Authors: Lori Brighton
“Where is everyone?” she whispered, searching the stoops as she drove slowly down the street.
“Park there.” Devon pointed alongside the main road, not bothering to answer her question.
She tried to sweep aside her frustration. After all, he’d actually ignored the demanding’s of an angel and stayed…for her. For Ashley. For the world. She wasn’t sure which. God, she hoped it wasn’t for Ashley. Did he still have feelings for the ghost seer?
She put the truck in park and Devon shoved open the door, stepping outside. Another town, another battle. Ellie pushed open the door and stepped onto the cobbled street. Completely and totally empty. This couldn’t be good. She followed Devon toward a small tea shop. Although not a soul could be seen, she had the oddest feeling they were being watched. Her fingers curled, her skin tight. She couldn’t help but glance over her shoulder. The air practically hummed with something…something familiar. She pressed her fingers to her temples, an ache beginning to thump.
“Energy,” she whispered.
“What?” Devon paused, his grip resting on the brass door handle.
“It’s all around us. Don’t you feel it? This sparkling, electric energy.” She spun around, searching the curtain-covered windows, looking for signs of life. “Devon, it’s the same feeling I get when there’s someone around who has powers. There’s a demon nearby…or something.”
She searched the buildings again, the street, even the few trees, but saw nothing.
“Yes,” he said, pulling open the door, a bell overhead ringing out merrily. “Demons. Witches. Fairies…even a vampire or two.”
Confused and frustrated, she followed him into the dimly lit shop. “What do you mean?”
“Crossroads is a town occupied by supernatural beings.”
Shocked, she froze on the threshold. Shouldn’t he have told her this before now? She spun around, searching the road again. Perhaps that would explain the odd tingling sensation whispering through her body. But if she was reacting, where were they? A shiver of unease raced over her skin. “All supernatural?”
He nodded, strolling purposefully through the small cafe. A variety of tables were placed throughout the room…empty chairs settled around the area, as if merely waiting for patrons. Flowers had wilted and dried in vases. It looked like the place had been abandoned. The fine hairs on her body rose on end. Ellie crossed her arms over her chest, scanning the room for any signs of life.
“So, where are they?”
Devon rubbed his forehead, looking as confused as she felt. “I haven’t a clue.”
Was his memory acting up again, or had something happened? “What are we looking for?”
“Assistance.” Devon strolled around the counter and through a back door, leaving her alone.
If he was looking for help, she had a feeling he was going to be looking for a long while. With a sigh, Ellie settled onto the closest chair and pulled the vase forward. The daisies were dead, but a small puddle of water remained. So, the place had been empty for at least a week, but not more than two. And the energy she felt must have been their lingering abilities. But why did her head ache so when there was no one near? She’d never been affected by residual energy. Too many unanswered questions.
Impatiently, she shoved the chair back, the legs scraping across the floorboards. “Devon? I highly doubt there’s anyone here, we’re wasting…”
A shiver tiptoed down her spine, a warning that they were no longer alone. Her toes and fingers heated, her brain buzzing with awareness. A supernatural being was close, his powers sinking into her body, her soul, becoming one with her own.
She didn’t dare move, but became the watcher, silent and ready. The soft whisper of a dust ball being blown across the floor by the open window was suddenly audible to her ears. The drip, drip, drip of a faucet coming from somewhere in the back where Devon had disappeared was like the beat of a drum. It was an odd feeling, one she’d never experienced before. She felt stronger, more… alive. Whatever was near, she’d never come into contact with it in the past.
Slowly, she turned. A thin, pale man stood in the doorway where only moments ago they’d entered. A cap was low on his head, shielding his eyes, his body completely still. To the human observer, he didn’t look a threat, but she knew better.
“What are you?” she demanded. No hello, no how’s it going… there was no reason to play games.
The man disappeared.
Ellie froze, her heart hammering madly as she spun around, searching the room. For a brief moment she thought she’d imagined him. A muscled arm wrapped around her neck, jerking her back into a hard chest.
“I’d appreciate it,” he said quite politely, “if you’d tell me why you’re here.”
The urge to fight back was overwhelming…to kill. To destroy. Ellie saw red. What little human rationality she’d had left fought to the forefront. Killing him would end their chance for answers. “We’re looking for someone.”
“
We
?”
“Let her go,” Devon demanded, suddenly appearing in the dining room.
Instead of feeling relieved, Ellie was annoyed by Devon’s sudden presence. Damn him, she was attempting to get answers, she didn’t need his interference.
“Don’t try to protect me,” she hissed.
The supernatural powers invading her body were taking control. She couldn’t ignore the animalistic need to get Devon out of the way so she could fight…kill. Devon narrowed his eyes, watching her. But it wasn’t his suspicious glance that had her focus. No. It was the vein throbbing in the side of his neck. The blood surging through his arteries that she swore she could hear even from across the room. Her body tightened, her insides clenching with what could only be hunger. The man holding her no longer mattered. Devon no longer mattered. The only thing she cared about was his blood.
“Who are you?” The man holding her tightened his grip as if he sensed her surging strength. But he wasn’t talking to her. No, he was focused on Devon.
“Blast it, Kipps, you know who I am,” Devon growled, his fingers curling at his sides, his body tense as if resisting the urge to burst forward. She could feel the anger and frustration pulsing from him.
Kipps stepped back, dragging her with him. How could anyone so small be so strong? “The Devon I knew died over six months ago.”
“Yeah, well, I’m back, obviously.”
They were silent for a moment, attempting to stare each other down, but she didn’t care about who had the bigger penis. No, the only thing that held her interest was that pulse on the side of Devon’s neck. Pumping warm, delicious blood through his body.
Delicious
?
The word snapped through her mind, bringing her back into reality. Oh God,
what
the hell was wrong with her? Suddenly, Devon’s words came back to haunt her.
“Yes,” he had said as they’d entered the tea shop only moments ago.
“Demons. Witches. Fairies…even a vampire or two. Crossroads is a town occupied by supernatural beings.”
Even a vampire or two. She glanced back at Kipps’ pale face. Was the man a vampire?
“Let her go,” Devon demanded.
“Sorry, I can’t until I know you’re not the demon.”
Ellie’s annoyance grew. This was becoming ridiculous. She should kill them both just so she wouldn’t have to listen to their cock fight.
“And how do you propose to do that?” Devon’s gaze jumped to her. “Would you please stop staring at my neck?”
“Sorry,” she muttered.
His face tight with anger, Devon started forward. “You don’t understand—”
“We understand well enough,” someone said with a thick, Irish accent.
Ellie rolled her eyes heavenward. Lovely, there were more. Devon paused, his gaze shifting to the area behind her. Kipps released his hold. Ellie didn’t run to Devon’s side, instead she merely grinned, turning to face their newest threat. Five men stood near the door, all looking ready for war. More visitors than she’d expected, but she didn’t mind a good fight. At least, at the moment she didn’t.
“I thought these people were your friends?” Ellie said.
“The line between love and hatred is pretty thin in the supernatural world,” he replied.
Indeed. She looked them up and down. The one with the Irish accent was round about the middle, how much of a threat could he be? Kipps was scrawny. The others were just as out of shape. Deep down she knew it wasn’t right, but her skin felt too tight, her body eager to fight. She
knew
she could take them.
“Well then, bring it on, gentlemen,” she said.
Devon gave her a look of disgust before focusing on the little army. “I’m looking for Ashley and Cristian.”
“They’re not here,” the Irish man said, his leather vest with the red flames gaudy, to say the least. He was obviously trying to appear tough as nails. She was eager to see how tough he’d be with her fist in his face.
“The Village People called, they want their vest back,” Ellie sneered.
The man frowned. “Well, she’s a nasty piece, isn’t she?”
But Ellie didn’t have time to mock the man further. The Irishman stepped closer. His aura glowed with a vibrant green that she’d never seen before. So strong, that his energy hit her like a wave during hurricane season. Ellie stumbled back a step. Bemused, she studied each man in turn. They wavered in and out of focus. Her bravado slipped some as her stomach clenched in unease.
Devon’s warm arm wrapped around her waist, holding her close. “You all right?”
“Yeah, I think.” But the room swam, the light pulsing, fading, pulsing, fading. Gone was the courage she’d felt only moments ago. Instead, the only feeling she could focus on was the nausea.
“What is she?” someone demanded.
She pushed away from Devon, intent on finishing what she had started, when the floor seemed to disappear, the room tilting. Ellie sank into Devon’s hard body as the lights above spun around and around.
“Ellie, what is it?”
She could only shake her head.
“I need information now,” Devon demanded, shifting so they stood upright, Ellie leaning hard against him. “Where are they?”
“We aren’t telling you a thing until we know for sure you’re Devon.”
“Shite.” Devon leaned his head closer to hers, his warm breath stirring the tendrils along the side of her face. “When I say run, run.”
Was he serious? She could barely stand, let alone run. Devon disappeared and reappeared in front of the men. Without his support, Ellie stumbled, falling against a table. The shouts were too loud, the sound of breaking wood and glass unbearable, thrumming against her brain like cymbals to her ears. Her stomach clenched, bile rising to her throat.
“Ellie,” Devon called. “Run!”
Right. Run. She pushed away from the table and stumbled toward the door, but the room tilted and her feet couldn’t quite seem to find the floorboards. Devon threw his fist wide, hitting the man with the leather vest in the face and propelling him backward. Another man grabbed Devon’s arm. They were a swirl of color and motion. An odd ballet she couldn’t quite understand.
Ellie swiveled her head, attempting to focus on the door. So damn close, yet she couldn’t seem to move forward. Her muscles no longer worked, her brain was no longer connected to her body.
Just a few steps, she could do it. Ellie brought her leg forward, but before her foot hit the ground, firm arms pulled her back into a hard chest.
“Stop, or she dies!”
The room grew quiet, male faces turning toward her. She felt the sharp sting of a dagger point to her neck, but could barely care. She was floating, the chairs and tables twirling around her. The light was fading, the room fading. She no longer existed and she knew that thought should have frightened her. Yet, for some reason she didn’t care.
“Don’t you think,” Devon snapped, his shoulders rising with each harsh intake of his breath. “That if I was the demon I wouldn’t give a shite if you killed her?”
“Not if she was important to ye,” the Irish man’s voice sounded next to her ear. So, he held her then. “It’s obvious she has powers. What she is, we don’t know and that makes me suspicious.”
“So then do it,” Devon demanded. “Kill us.”
Ellie opened her mouth to protest, but the words couldn’t seem to get past her lips. Before she could hear their response, the world shifted. The light faded. The ground disappeared. Ellie sank into the man holding her and tumbled into darkness.
****
The drip, drip, drip of condensation was the only noise in the large cell.
Devon slowly rubbed the back of his neck, the base of his skull thumping. Someone had whacked him over the head, knocking him unconscious. But his concern wasn’t for himself. No. Ellie barely even breathed as she lay upon his lap.
He’d woken up in this dank dungeon, Ellie next to him. Seeing her so still, so pale… he swore his heart had actually stopped for a brief moment. Devon drew his hand down the side of her face. She didn’t stir. He wrapped his fingers around hers, drawing her hand into his palm. She was cold. Bitterly cold. His worry burst anew. The fierce desire to protect her roared through his veins. If they’d done her any harm, he’d kill them. He knew it was wrong, and the angel deep down balked at his determination, but he didn’t care. Bloody hell, somehow this woman had found a way into his heart.