The Ghost Hunter, a Paranormal Romance (The Hunter Series)

by Lori Brighton

  Camile’s gaze flickered with unease, but Ashley still wasn’t sure what they were up against and feared if she made a move now, she would only regret her decision later. Damn it, the one time she wished Cristian was near and the jerk had disappeared.

  “Get away from her,” Ashley repeated calmly.

  “Fine,” Devon said. Before she could guess his intentions, he shoved Camile. She flew across the room as if she weighed nothing and slammed into the wall.

  “Camile!” Ashley’s feet thundered against the floor planks. She barely paused as she dropped to her knees and slid to a stop next to her friend. “Are you all right?”

  Camile nodded, but her eyes were dazed, unsure. Ashley’s fear pulsed a steady beat under her skin. Camile didn’t look all right at all. In fact, she looked ready to faint. She slipped her arm around her friend’s waist and helped her to her feet.

  “Devon?” she whispered, facing him.

  He wasn’t smiling, more like smirking. This wasn’t her Devon. This man seemed even bigger, stronger somehow. Her heart tripped in her chest, the desire to run warring with the need to contain this mad man.

  “He’s not Devon,” Camile confirmed in a weak voice. “The exorcism didn’t work. The thing’s still there, only now, he’s on the surface.”

  But Ashley still didn’t want to believe that Devon couldn’t control this beast. He was there, deep down, she knew it. If only he could find a way to regain power. She believed in Devon, she had to.

  Devon clapped his hands in applause, all the while chuckling. “So right. So right. I’ve come out to play, my friends.” He paced to the windows and held his arms wide, his t-shirt stretching across his broad back. “Ah, to be free.”

  Anger shot through her body, an irrational urge to throw herself, claws extended, at the man. “Who are you?” she asked and immediately regretted her outburst when he turned to face her.

  He looked her up and down in a way that sent chills to her bones. “You’re the owner. The lovely woman who has confused my host body so. He fights for you, you know. To be good, to resist me. He wiggles, writhing deep inside me like a maggot.”

  Her heart lurched with hope. She’d been right. Devon was there and he could defeat this thing if he tried. “Devon?” Ashley pushed away from Camile, leaving her safely behind.

  “Yes, he’s still here,” the demon said, as if reading her thoughts. “He’s just…stepped aside for the moment.”

  “Been forced aside,” Camile muttered from behind Ashley.

  “Who are you?” Ashley repeated her question, mostly to draw his attention back to her and away from Camile, who still looked a bit dazed.

  It worked. He started toward her, his feet thumping through the space in time with her heart beat. Ashley held her ground in the middle of the room. It took all her courage not to run.

  “I, my dear, am the thing in your basement. That thing that keeps you up at night. That thing that enters your dreams, pretends to be your dad and cries out to you. Help me, Ashley, help me!” He threw his head back and laughed.

  Anger fought with fear. Unwanted tears burned her eyes. She’d heard the voice in her nightmares, the voice of her father. A voice that had kept her here, when all she’d wanted to do was return home. But it hadn’t been Dad calling to her, it’d been this demon. A demon who somehow knew her weakness.

  “You’re saying you’ve escaped?” she asked in a voice much more serene than she’d expected.

  He stopped only inches from her, so close she could feel the chill of his breath. Her legs trembled, but she refused to back down. He looked so much like Devon… sweet, honorable Devon. Sounded so much like Devon. He was there, underneath it all. Her fingers curled as she resisted the urge to reach out to him, to beg him to stop this madness.

  He sighed, looking thoughtful. “Unfortunately, no. I haven’t escaped. But some of my essence has escaped. Enough to control this pathetic sod.” He leaned closer to her and drew a cold finger down the side of her face.

  She jerked back. “Don’t touch me.”

  He smiled. “I can’t really do much until I get my body back. But I will. I promise ye that.” He turned, his back to Ashley. “But, still I can have some fun with his powers.”

  His voice had changed. The English accent gone, replaced with a Scottish burr. How very odd. “What do you want from us?” she asked. If she could keep him talking, perhaps he’d slip and admit something important.

  He started pacing again. “Want? Want? Why I want what everyone wants. A life. Power.” He faced her and a slow smile spread across his lips. “You’re lovely. I can see why he wants ye. Perhaps, I’ll save ye for myself.”

  Perspiration clung to her back and forehead. He stepped closer, so close she could feel his icy breath kiss her lips. It wasn’t Devon. His features were similar, but his breath was cold. She knew, though, that Devon was there deep down inside.

  “Devon?” she whispered, her horrified expression mirrored back at her in his obsidian gaze.

  The monster frowned and rested his cold hand against her throat, his grip strong. “Poor dear.”

  She grasped at his hand, trying to tear his grip away.

  “Ashley,” Camile called out, stumbling to her feet.

  “I know you’re in there,” Ashley rasped. “Please, Devon, fight him.”

  He shook his head, not a care in the world. “Ye don’t understand. He can’t fight me.”

  Ashley latched onto his wrist, trying to push his grip away. Either she was stronger than she’d realized, or he was growing weak because she swore she felt the slight give of pressure on her neck.

  “Ashley!” Camile was stumbling toward them.

  But Ashley was barely aware of the witch. There was something wrong with Devon or the demon. Sweat, that wasn’t there before, glistened on his nose and temples. His lips lifted into a snarl. He started trembling and the hatred she saw in his eyes chilled her very soul. Slowly, his thumb moved across her throat and pressed against her windpipe. Air could barely get down the compressed tube. She whimpered as panic set in and the light began to fade.

  “Ye can’t fight me,” Devon hissed. “No one can because there is no one stronger than me.”

  “Really?” a familiar voice called out, drawing her back into the conscious world. “No one can fight you? I must disagree.”

  A flash of surprise crossed the demon’s dark eyes. With a low growl, he released his hold and spun around. Blessed air roared down Ashley’s throat. She sucked in a sharp breath, her hands going to her neck in a protective hold, as if that could prevent him from strangling her again if he wished to.

  Cristian stood so strong and sure in the doorway that Ashley wanted to cry out with relief. He hadn’t left her after all.

  “And what will ye do, my child? Kill me…again?” Devon held his arms wide. “Run a sword through my chest?”

  Again? She didn’t miss the implication of the demon’s words. Was it the demon or Devon talking? Cristian’s face remained passive, unreadable.

  “I won’t need tae because yer growing weak, aren’t ye? I can see it in the trembling of yer body.” Cristian strolled into the room slowly, confidently, his arms crossed over his chest. “Ye won’t be able tae hold first position much longer and soon ye’ll be pushed tae the back once again. Pathetic, really.”

  Thank God, Cristian was right. The demon was trembling, his hands shaking ever so slightly. Ashley scurried across the room, away from the both of them. Sweat slid down Devon’s forehead in long, wet trails and his body shook more with each passing second. How long would it take for Devon to regain control?

  The demon’s eyes flashed, but he kept his smile. “And you haven’t changed.”

  Confused, she paused halfway to Camile. Was it Devon talking or the Demon?

  Cristian moved further into the room, stopping only feet from Devon. There was no fear in Cristian’s eyes. “In fact, I bet ye’ll go any minute”

  Devon’s face pulled back into a snarl. �
�Damn ye,” he hissed.

  Cristian chuckled. Ashley was glad someone found this situation amusing. Before she could demand answers, Devon’s head jerked back and a shrill cry escaped his lips.

  “Devon!” She started forward. Cristian lifted his hand, shaking his head. She stopped, biting her lower lip and resisting the urge to go to him.

  A lower whimper escaped Devon’s lips as his eyes fastened to her. Wide eyes that held grief, fear, anger. His hands fisted, the veins in his arms and neck popping under his pale skin. Then just as suddenly as the demon had come, it was gone. Devon’s face lost the tortured look and he slumped to the floor.

  “Devon!” Ashley collapsed beside him. “Devon?” She took his face between her hands. His eyes were closed, his face deathly pale, but she could still see the beat of his pulse, thumping weakly in the side of his neck.

  “What happened?” she demanded, turning to Cristian. “Is that…that thing in him or not?”

  Cristian’s face was blank. Did the man feel nothing? Any compassion at all? “No. Not now. He’s using his body from afar.”

  She shook her head. Helplessness overwhelmed her. “What can I do?”

  Cristian raised his brows in surprise. “Ye’ll do nothing. There’s nothing ye can do.” Without another word, he started toward the door. He was going to leave her.

  “Nothing?” She stumbled to her feet. Anger propelled her forward.

  Cristian stilled at the door, sighing. Slowly he turned to face her. “Nothing. It’s my problem. I’ll take care of it.”

  Her hands fisted as she rushed toward him. “Damn it, Cristian, don’t be the martyr. It’s not your problem.”

  A soft moan rumbled through the room. Devon, Ashley realized with a start.

  “Tell me what you’re going to do, Cristian. It’s my pub, I deserve to know.”

  Cristian’s gaze slipped from hers, to focus beyond her shoulders. “Yer boyfriend is coming around. Best take care of him before I do.” Without another word, he turned and left the room.

  Chapter 27

  “How is he?” Camile asked.

  Ashley turned from her position at the foot of the bed where she’d been watching Devon sleep like she was some overly protective mother. How could he have been married? Had he loved the woman, or had it been some sort of arranged marriage? “Okay. I think. How are you?” Her voice came out raspy, her throat stinging from the pressure of Devon’s fingers. Even now, she could still feel his phantom hand at her neck.

  “Fine. Just a few little cuts. Nothing major.” She leaned against the door jamb and sighed. “I’m going home now. Anything I can get you?”

  Ashley shook her head. She’d done so much all ready, and suffered for it.

  Camile twisted the blue bracelet around her wrist, hesitating and Ashley knew there was more. She didn’t know if she could handle more at the moment. Her body and mind had grown oddly numb.

  “I was speaking with Rose and we think the demon was able to attach itself to Devon and speak through him, because of the whole bringing him back to life thing. He’s weak. Not fully himself.”

  “Right,” Ashley said softly. Pretty much what Cristian had said. It was basically their fault.

  Ashley could tell by her watery eyes, Camile was thinking the same thing. Of course neither one of them were going to admit it. “Well, guess I’ll go.”

  “You’ll be okay, going home alone?” Ashley asked.

  Camile nodded. “I drove and with the villagers binding the area, I should be fine.”

  “Night, Camile and thanks.”

  She laughed. “Didn’t really do much.”

  Ashley wanted to tell her how much she’d done already, how incredibly touched she was that she’d stayed by her side, more than once risking her life. Before she could get the words out, she was gone, shutting the door.

  Ashley returned her attention to Devon. His face was pale, too pale. Dark circles marred the area under his eyes. His breathing had changed, no longer deep and calm, but shorter breaths, telling her he’d woken.

  “You can open your eyes now,” Ashley said. “I know you’re not sleeping.”

  His lashes fluttered up to reveal those clear blue eyes she knew so well. She gave him a soft smile. Devon was back, the demon gone…for now.

  He didn’t smile back. “I knew what he was saying, I knew he was there and I couldn’t stop him. I couldn’t do a bloody thing…not even when he wrapped his hand around your neck and squeezed.” He closed his eyes. “I’m weak and pathetic just as Cristian said.”

  Ashley didn’t want to remember the demon, she wanted to focus on Devon. They’d won this battle, they should be celebrating. “It wasn’t your fault. And you aren’t weak. You’re certainly stronger than anyone I know.”

  He looked toward the windows, his spirit morose and heavy. “It’s a pittance of what I could do before. What Cristian can do.”

  “It’s enough,” she said, resting her hand atop of his. “Like I said, you’re still stronger than five normal men put together.”

  He was silent for a moment. “You’re right,” he said softly, but his voice held a bitter edge. He looked at her, his gaze piercing. “What if it happens again? The demon’s gone now, but I know he’ll come back and then how much damage will I do? It’s like we’re linked, and he has a free pass to my body and my powers.”

  She couldn’t let him see how much his words affected her, how she trembled inside just thinking about what had happened. Her fingers curled as she resisted the urge to touch her neck. “We’ll be prepared.”

  He shook his head and stood, but his legs were weak, and he had to clutch the window sill for support. The sun was starting to rise, sending shades of pink and orange across his handsome face. “He’ll only be more powerful. And then what will happen…to you?”

  “Nothing.” Ashley stood too. “I’ll be fine. You don’t need to worry right now, okay?”

  His jaw clenched, a stubborn look crossing his pale features. “No, it’s not okay.” With determined strides, he moved toward the door.

  Startled, Ashley rushed after him. “Devon, where are you going?”

  He didn’t respond. Confused and a bit frantic, Ashley followed him into the hall. Surprisingly enough, he paused outside Cristian’s room.

  The door opened before Devon knocked. “What?” he demanded.

  Devon tilted his chin high. “We need to talk.”

  Cristian stepped aside and Devon swept into the room. Alone in the hall, Cristian’s gaze found hers. In the presence of the man who’d saved her life more than once, she felt awkward, unsure. Those piercing silver eyes left her quivering.

  “Well, are ye coming in or not?”

  With her gaze focused firmly on the ground, she brushed past him, trying not to dwell on the fact that he smelled so damn good, nor the fact that his scent brought a strange sense of comfort to her body and mind. Devon paced near the windows, so she settled in the only chair near the fireplace and waited.

  “What is it?” Cristian crossed his arms over his chest, looking so healthy, so strong, while Devon looked ready to keel over at any minute. It didn’t quite seem fair.

  Devon faced Cristian. “You need to lock me up.”

  “What?” Ashley jumped to her feet, her heart slamming in protest.

  He glanced at her briefly, but his attention remained for the most part on Cristian. “Lock me up.”

  Cristian laughed a rich chuckle. Ashley could imagine how much joy the thought brought him. “You trust me that much? If I lock you up, I could kill you. You’d be like a lamb to slaughter.”

  Her hands fisted; she was prepared to do battle, but Devon merely smiled. “In the shape I’m in, let’s face it Mate, you could kill me now. So why don’t you?”

  Cristian’s face grew serious, any mirth fading as quickly as it had come. “Ye think I wanted ye dead?”

  “Yes.”

  “I didn’t.” He stabbed his finger toward Devon, his irritation palpable. “Ye mig
ht have had blood on yer mind, but I didn’t. I was merely protecting myself. Christ, yer revenge ran so deep ye stayed around after ye were dead. It held ye here. Ye let revenge ruin yer life and ye left me here to deal with yer bloody mess.”

  That surprised Ashley. She’d assumed Devon hadn’t gone on because he’d done something wrong. But he’d stayed here because his need for revenge wouldn’t let him rest? She wasn’t sure which was worse.

  “You let him kill my father.” Anger seethed from Devon’s body.

  Fearing another battle was about to explode, Ashley stepped closer.

  Cristian’s gaze flickered to her, noticing her movement, even if Devon hadn’t. Cristian shook his head, raking his hands through his hair. “Ye think I could control the man? I didn’t even know my own bloody father was a murderer.”

  Devon’s pale cheeks had flushed red. “You had a chance to see the man dead, you didn’t take it.”

  Cristian was silent for one long moment. Surprisingly enough, instead of feeling for Devon, Ashley ached for Cristian, this man who’d known such guilt and grief. She had the odd feeling that she didn’t belong here. Like she was watching a play.

  “I know,” Cristian said in a harsh whisper. “But dear God, what would ye have me do? Bloody hell, I did it…eventually.”

  She sucked in a sharp breath, the truth of his words startling. Was Cristian admitting that he’d killed his own father?

  Devon snorted and turned his face away. “It was too late.” He cleared his throat and looked at Cristian once more. “Will you lock me up or not?”

  Cristian was silent for one tense-filled moment. “I’ll see yer locked up, Devon.” And when he said it, she realized that in some weird way, they’d made peace.

  Devon nodded his thanks. But he didn’t say a word as he moved into the hall, leaving her alone with Cristian. Ashley’s need for answers fought with her desire to go after Devon. Her need for answers won.

  She pressed her fingertips to her temples, but it didn’t ease the ache throbbing in her head. “What are you talking about? I’m so confused. I really wish someone would tell me what the hell’s going on.”