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.”
Cristian settled on the window sill. For the first time since they’d met, the man looked exhausted. He looked…human. “I thought I’d answered yer questions.”
Ashley laughed. He couldn’t be serious. Yet when he continued to stare at her with those morose eyes, she realized he was. “What happened to your father?”
The million dollar question. He stood and paced to the fireplace. Pausing, he rested his hands on the mantel. The silence stretched long and telling. She couldn’t seem to breathe as she waited for his answer. She had the odd feeling that the moment he told her the truth, everything would change for the worse.
“I didn’t think I’d have to talk about this again.” He smiled as he said it, as if amused by the fact.
“Just tell me, please, Cristian.”
Finally, he looked at her. Ashley expected to see pain, anger, perhaps sadness. Instead she saw nothing in his cold eyes. “I did take care of my father, Ashley. But I was too late, Devon’s father was already gone.”
Her heart pounded in her chest, blood roaring to her ears so loudly, she could barely hear him. “What did you do to your father?”
He held his arms out, palms up, in surrender. “I tried to send him to hell. It didn’t work.”
Her mouth went dry. He’d killed his own father. Dear God, what sort of man could kill his own father? “Why didn’t it work?” Her voice came out sharp. “What happened?”
There it was…the flash of emotion she’d been waiting for. So he could feel after all.
“That demon in yer basement…” he started.
Ashley shook her head, suddenly not wanting to hear the rest. She knew exactly where he was going with this line of conversation, but she couldn’t… she wouldn’t believe him.
His intense gaze drilled into her, daring her to look away. “That demon is my father.”
********
“You sure you’re okay?” Ashley asked, peering through the dark basement in an attempt to read Devon’s face.
He nodded as he sat on a small cot they’d placed against the far stone wall, manacles around his wrists. He had plenty of room to move, but the chains weighed down on his body, making him look miserable and vulnerable. He lifted his arms, tugging. The chains rattled, but held. Would he be cold down here in only shorts and a t-shirt?
“I’m all right, Ashley. You don’t have to stay.”
“Why here?” she whispered, glancing at the wooden door. “What if it breaks through? You’ll be the first…”
He gave her a soft, sad smile. “If that thing breaks through it will have no use for me.”
In other words it would go for the stronger beings. But she knew the truth, it would kill Devon in its wake. How could she leave Devon here knowing it could be the last time she saw him?
“Constable’s gone.” Maggie’s sudden appearance had Ashley stumbling back.
A picture of the ghost flashed to mind, the clueless man in his period puffy clothing. He hadn’t even known he was dead. It didn’t seem right to send him on. She gripped the stairway railing to keep from falling to the ground. There’d been way too many surprises in her life lately. “What?”
The child’s eyes were wide, her face pale, yet there was a finality in her gaze that worried Ashley. Maggie looked oddly older then her age. “The Constable is gone. I guess I’m next.”
Ashley shook her head, fear bitter and real. “No.” She didn’t question her irrational response, only knew that she wouldn’t lose Maggie too.
Devon was watching her, his brows drawn together in obvious confusion. “What?”
“Another ghost…gone.”
“That doesn’t make sense. Who…”
A spark of realization lit his blue eyes. Devon swallowed hard and looked away. But she didn’t need to question his odd reaction. Everything Ashley had discovered came rushing back on a roaring train of emotion. “Oh my God. I’d forgotten. It’s him, isn’t? Cristian? He’s sending them back. What Maggie said was true.”
Devon finally looked up at her. “I’m sure he has his reasons.”
Ashley laughed, a harsh unnatural sound. “Oh, so now all of a sudden you’re on his side?”
Devon sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, his chains rattling with the movement. “Not his side.”
She didn’t respond, she was too infuriated. Was Cristian against them or with them? It didn’t help to have Devon suddenly turning on her. Just when she thought she could trust him to stand by his opinion….
She turned and started up the stairs, afraid she’d say something she’d regret.
“Ashley,” Devon called out.
She ignored him and stepped into the kitchen, shutting the door behind her. All along Cristian had been sending her ghosts back. Maggie had told her, but damn it all, she hadn’t wanted to believe her because she was a child, and a ghost and… hell, because she cared about Cristian.
Hurt and angry, she made her way up to the second floor. She didn’t bother to knock, but pushed open Cristian’s bedroom door with a hard shove. Cristian stood near the bed with a towel wrapped around his waist. His dark hair was slicked back and water glistened in the valleys and mountains of his muscular torso. Ashley swallowed hard and jerked her attention to his face.
“Did you kill my ghosts?”
He laughed, his white teeth flashing. “Sorry to be the one to tell ye this, luv, ghosts are already dead.”
Ashley slammed the door shut so they wouldn’t be overheard should someone or something happen by. “You know very well what I’m asking.”
His smile fell, his face growing hard as granite and she knew his anger was mounting, but she didn’t care. “What do ye want me tae say? The truth? Aye, I sent them tae the other side.”
Ashley hesitated, surprised he’d so readily admit it. Then the reality of his words set in. Her ghosts, her temporary family. They hadn’t been good, in fact they’d been pretty damn bad. But they’d been hers, the only family she’d had. And he’d….he’d swiped that sword through them like they didn’t matter.
She wasn’t sure if she wanted to cry or hit him. “How dare you come into my house and—”
He stepped closer, his lips lifting into a snarl that sent her heart skipping. “I’m doing my job.”
Tears burned her eyes, and she had to look away because she knew, deep down, what he said was true. “Did you even care at all?”
He sighed and just like that, she felt his anger dissipate. “Ye don’t understand. They’re—”
“I know!” She stepped closer to him, her hands balling. She clung to her anger, determined not to cry in front of him. “They’re bad. Well, you know, you’re not some angel either.”
His lips quirked and she realized her mistake. “Whatever. You know what I mean. You’re an arrogant ass.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “So how exactly does this work? How are we judged?”
He raked his hand through his wet hair, sending water droplets to the floor. “It’s how we affect others, Ashley.”
She shook her head, confused, but that was nothing new.
He clasped his hands behind his head. The movement flexed his pecs and sent his clean sent to her. Her body heated, flushing with a pleasant warmth. Ashley swallowed hard, following that dark trail of hair that disappeared underneath his towel. Even angry, she still wanted him.
“Every one of those people wronged another being, actually wronged more than one and didn’t feel a bloody thing about it.”
She jerked her gaze to his face, pushing aside thoughts of what was underneath that towel. “That’s not true! Rachel
felt horrible about what she did. She told Maggie.”
He rested his hands on her upper arms and looked directly into her eyes, he was so close she could see specks of blue in his silver gaze. “No, she was scared. There’s a difference between true repentance and fear.”
He was too near for her to think. His clean scent swirled around her, muddling her mind. She tried to shake off his hold, but he wouldn’t budge. “And what about you? You’ve never hurt anyone?”
“No one I didn’t have the authority to hurt. Never on purpose and never for the pleasure of it.”
She tilted her chin, daring to look directly into his steel eyes. “What about me?” She cursed herself the moment the words were out.
He frowned. “What about ye?”
God, was she really going to admit it? “Nothing.” She started to turn away, but he held her tight. In that moment she hated that he was stronger than her. When he didn’t release her, she finally gave up her struggle.
“Fine,” she snapped. “You’ve hurt me many times. Left me in the dark, and… and don’t even get me started on the shower when you left me standing there wanting…” Her face heated. She hadn’t meant to say that. Fanfreakingtastic.
He closed his eyes, his grip tightening. “Christ, Ashley. Ye think I didn’t want tae take yer slick wet body against that wall?” He opened his eyes and the heat there sent her heart fluttering. He pulled her closer. Her soft body sank into his hardness. “Ye think I don’t want ye now?”
She swallowed, her body betraying her, every nerve ending screaming for her to touch him, to wrap her arms around his neck, to press her lips to his.
He shook her gently. “Bloody hell, Ashley, I tried tae get ye tae leave. I tried money, fear, nothing worked. Yer too damn loyal and ye’ll probably end up dying for it.”
With those wonderfully romantic words he crushed his mouth to hers and she let him. She let him because she was shocked, but mostly because she wanted him as much as he wanted her. His fingers twisted into her hair, cupping the back of her neck as he deepened the kiss. He seemed in no great hurry, his kisses soft and sweet. His other hand pressed to her lower back, holding her close to his hard body.
Lord, he felt lovely. She wanted to forget everything, just for a moment forget and merely feel the man. Her lips parted on a moan and he made quick work of sweeping his tongue inside. Desire stabbed through her body, pooling low in her belly. Slowly, she spread her fingers through the crisp hair on his muscled chest. Why couldn’t she give into temptation? Why couldn’t she have him just this one time? She wanted more, to kiss him longer, to touch every inch—And that long, hard erection pressing to her thighs told her that he wanted her as much.
But no… no. They couldn’t do this. Not now, not while the people she had come to love were in danger. She shoved her hands into his hard chest and stumbled back. “We can’t do this…not now. Not here. We have more important things to think about.”
“You’re right.” He turned his back to her.
She pressed her fingers to her tingling lips, her body trembling with pent up desire. “Tell me what to do Cristian. Tell me how to stop this?”
He faced her, his eyes shaded, cold once more. “The only thing we can do is destroy the tomb and my father’s spirit. If we don’t, none of us will last long.”
Chapter 28
Ashley’s footsteps echoed eerily through the town. Not a soul was seen; no movement, no sound, not even the flutter of curtains in windows. It was as if everyone had deserted the place. Her stomach fell to her feet as a tickle of unease swept over her skin. God, she hoped they hadn’t left. She needed them now more than ever. It was time to take control. She owned the pub, it was her responsibility. No more hiding.
Sun beat down on the pavement, heat seeping up from the ground in ghostly waves. Sweat clung to her skin like dew, soaking her t-shirt. Unusually hot, she wondered if the weather had something to do with the protection spell that had been placed around the village.
She pulled open the tea shop door. The bell above tinkled, just like normal. But it wasn’t normal. The place was empty. She paused just over the threshold. The back door swung wide and John swept out, a shotgun in hand like some character from Night of the Living Dead.
Ashley stumbled back, her heart slamming against her chest.
“Jaysus, Mary and Joseph,” he muttered, lowering the gun.
Ashley swallowed hard and willed her heart to stop racing. “Is this how you greet your customers now? Well, no wonder why the place is empty.” Unnerved, she moved across the room and settled on her usual barstool before her legs gave out. She needed a nice cool breeze, but the open windows brought no relief.
“Cristian know yir here?”
She frowned. “Not that I’m aware of. Shockingly enough, I don’t need to run my every move by him.” She’d left the pub to escape her confusing emotions, she didn’t need John reminding her of the man who’d made her confused in the first place.
“It’s not safe fir ye to be out, especially alone.”
She shrugged. “Thought it was okay to be out in the day. Don’t vampires and werewolves only come out at night?”
He sighed, shaking his head. “Ye’ve a lot to learn.”
Ashley picked up a straw, twirling it between her fingers. “So I’ve been told. Besides, isn’t there a protection spell around the town?”
Before he could answer the door bell tinkled. Ashley’s gaze jumped to the mirror above the bar. No reflection appeared. Confused, she spun around. Kipps stood there, his cap in hand. Her mouth dropped open and she glanced back at the mirror. Still no reflection.
“But…but…”
Apparently that myth was true.
He smiled. “Actually, vampires can be out in the light, just prefer the dark. Sort of like nocturnal animals.”
“And apparently they have really good hearing,” she whispered, too shocked to speak louder. But then she didn’t need to. She couldn’t seem to smile back, knowing what he was, what this thin man was capable of. It didn’t help her nerves to notice that Kipps was back to looking malnourished, his hazel eyes dull and lifeless. Did he need to feed? What did he feed on anyway?
“You shouldn’t be out alone,” he reprimanded.
Ashley’s fear gave way to frustration. “What, did Cristian send you after me?”
His smile widened.
She almost choked on her next words. “Oh my God, he’s having you follow me, isn’t he?”
“He’s merely worried—”
“Unbelievable.” She turned back around, wondering who else was watching her every move. Annoyed, she picked at the straw wrapper, making a pile of tiny, white pieces of paper. Was he having her followed because he was worried, or because he didn’t trust her? Ashley wasn’t sure if she should be angry or touched. She settled on bemused.
“Och, what did ye want?” John asked, eyeing her warily.
His obvious leeriness had her back to being annoyed. “A chat? Some water, maybe?” She batted her lashes at him in a sarcastic fashion.
He frowned. “I gotta charge ye fir the water.”
Ashley laughed. “Of course.”
Kipps sat next to her. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. Hopefully, he wasn’t thirsty. He looked thirsty. He looked hungry too. A scrawny, underfed kitten. Ashley resisted the urge to scoot away from him. If she hadn’t seen him on the attack the other evening, she wouldn’t believe a word about him being a vampire.
“Has there been any more activity?” she asked.
“A few things here and there,” Kipps replied, but he didn’t go into detail and she knew getting him to expand would be like pulling teeth. Frankly, she didn’t have the energy to pull teeth.
John set a cup of water in front of her. “Five pounds.”
Ashley’s mouth fell open. “What? That’s ridiculous!”
He rolled his eyes. “Jist take the bloody water fir free. Me poor children won’t have dinner tonight, but that’s all
right. They can do without.”
Ashley grinned and sipped the lukewarm water. “I didn’t know you had children.”
“Two.” He pulled the gray rag from his waistband and started swiping down the counters probably more from habit than because they needed the cleaning.
She watched him, wondering what his wife was. Fairy and leprechaun like him? Could different paranormal beings mate? Could an angel mate with someone human? Immediately she pushed that thought from her mind.
“So,” she said, her curiosity getting the better of her. “What are your powers?”
He sighed long and loud as if he had something better to do than talk to her. “I’m not a bloody superhero.”
Ashley quirked a brow and smirked. “Oh, so you don’t do anything?”
He tilted his chin, offended. “Course I do.”
“Can you show me where the pot of gold is?”
He rolled his eyes. “Like I haven’t heard that one before. What I can or can’t do, isn’t of any importance to ye. The question is, what do ye want?”
Her good mood soured. Honestly, Ashley really wasn’t sure what she wanted, but that was beside the point. She knew what she needed, and that was more help. “You know why I’m here. It’s getting worse. He’s going to escape soon and we need more on our side.”
“Ye’ve got the witch, Rose, to help.”
“Yeah, one old woman, we’re perfect.” So she’d excluded Camile, they didn’t need to know that.
“We settled here in peace. We want to have normal lives, no trouble.”
She glared up at him. “Well, you’re not normal, are you? And trouble’s here, whether you want it or not.” She found it more than ironic that she was forcing these men to deal with the truth when she’d always been so good at avoiding it.
He threw his dishcloth on the countertop, his face turning red. “We have posts around town to keep unwanted visitors out. We are doing something.”
Ashley leaned forward, narrowing her eyes. “It’s not enough. We need your power to destroy the demon for good.”
The door opened, the bell tinkling. Ashley didn’t turn this time. She could see her agent, Sandra, in the mirror above the bar. At least she wasn’t a vampire, but what was she? She hesitated over the threshold, as if confused as to how she had gotten there. A shiver of foreboding whispered through the air. Finally, she shuffled forward and collapsed on the stool next to Kipps.
The Ghost Hunter Page 24