Authors: Lori Brighton
She gripped his shoulders. “Then tell me. Help me train. Explain his powers, his weaknesses. Tell me what happened to you six months ago.”
He closed his eyes and for a moment she thought he might reject the idea. “The only way to get rid of the demon was to send him to hell. We released his soul, but it didn’t go as planned. He was stronger than we’d expected.”
He went silent. From the kitchen a clock ticked the seconds by, the only sound in the house. Honestly, she wasn’t sure if she wanted to know the rest, yet knew deep down she had to ask. “Devon, how’d you die six months ago?”
He opened his eyes and stepped away from her. The hardness was back in his gaze, the emotion gone. “I sacrificed myself. I attached my soul to the demon’s spirit to hold him until Ashley and Cristian could figure out how to destroy the monster once and for all.”
Devon had killed himself. The realization horrified her. He had taken away his life, his beautiful body destroyed. His own doing. Would he do it again?
“About a month ago, Ashley and Camile did a spell, and now… I’m back once more.” He didn’t sound happy about that. She was. Damn it all, the thought of him being lost forever… of never meeting him…it was too much to contemplate.
“And the demon?” she whispered.
“Is out there…somewhere.”
“And you plan to stop it?”
“Not just stop it.” He stepped further back, away from her and she felt the distance as if he was in another country. “I’m going to destroy it.”
He was so sure, she almost believed him. Yet, she couldn’t help but remember that they had all failed before. “And what if it destroys you first?”
He was silent, as if mulling over his response. “Last time we used a novice witch. We won’t make that mistake this time. Rose will do the spell.”
So, he was blaming Camile, but she knew deep down it was too easy to blame the witch. “And will you kill yourself again, if you have to?”
“If we don’t stop him, there’s no telling how many innocent lives will be taken.”
He’d avoided her question. She knew he would do whatever it took to win, even if it meant losing his own life.
“When we confront the demon, I want you to leave. Go as far away from here as possible,” he said.
Her worry gave way to anger. He hadn’t heard a word she’d said. “Where?” She threw her arms wide, releasing a wry laugh. “Where will I go that a demon can’t find me?”
His own anger was apparent in the clench of his fists. “At least you’ll have a chance.”
She shoved her finger into his chest. “Bull! The truth of the matter is without all of us working together, no one has a chance.” She turned around and started toward the back door. “But you’re too damn stubborn to admit when you need help.” She paused at the door. So much emotion welled within, she could barely breathe. “I pray to God it’s not your downfall.”
Without waiting for his response, she tore open the door and stepped outside.
Chapter 17
“Where are you going?” Camile called out.
Devon gritted his teeth and continued his even pace down the driveway. He needed to get away from that pub. Get away from Ellie and the confusing emotions she stirred deep within. He needed time alone, time to think. Ellie was decidedly ignoring him, practicing in the garden with Rose as if she had every intention of helping fight that demon. Like hell she would.
He didn’t give a shite if she hated him. He would not see her killed. She would stay safely behind when the time came, even if he had to tie her to a damn chair.
“Devon?” Camile fell into place beside him.
The little witch wasn’t giving up. “To town so that I might try the phones there. Someone has to have a bloody phone that works.” Of course it was odd that none of their mobiles could get reception at the pub. He sure as hell didn’t believe in coincidence. Even now he could be walking into a trap, but he had to get ahold of Ashley and Cristian, must know what they’d uncovered, if anything. Most importantly, he had to know if they still lived.
“Do you even know how to use a phone?”
He slid Camile an annoyed glance. “I’ll figure something out.”
“I can help.”
He remained stubbornly silent. The driveway ended and he moved onto a footpath that led to town. Skeletal trees with tiny buds did little to shade the cobbled streets. It was hot. Too hot for spring. Much hotter than yesterday and even more so than the day before. It had been hot another time too… when the demon had gained control. A shiver of unease tiptoed down his spine. A feeling he knew well. A warning.
Without turning his head, he slowly scanned the small town. The stone homes were well kept, but quiet. Too quiet. Along the streets a few automobiles rested silently. But there was no movement behind the curtains. No sounds of encroaching cars. Kipps had said there was talk of leaving, but he hadn’t expected people to abandon the town so quickly.
“Devon, I don’t know what the hell your problem is, but—”
He spun on his heel to face her, his anger flaring to life. He needed to take it out on someone and Camile was the perfect target. “My problem is that you’ve ruined two very important spells now.”
She narrowed those hazel eyes. “No, your problem is that you don’t trust me, do you?”
“Perhaps I don’t.” He turned toward the footpath and continued to the tea shop that settled enticingly on the corner of the two main streets. He needed to get away from her before he did or said something he’d regret.
“How dare you!” Camile stomped after him. “I’ve done nothing—”
“Shhh.” He held up his hand, a silent command to keep still.
Although she was obviously furious, she had the good sense to pause next to him, her lips pressed into a firm line. Not even a soft breeze blew through the town. The leaves that had been sprouting, were yellowed and wilted.
“Where is everyone?” he asked.
The anger faded and confusion clouded her face. She glanced left, right, and then shrugged. “I… I don’t know.”
“Did you see anyone when you came through town the other day?”
She nodded. “Yeah, we stopped at the market, but…” Her dark brows drew together.
“What?”
“But they were acting strangely. No one would meet our gaze and the store wasn’t very crowded.”
The sky above was gray, yet no rain came. “And you just now thought to mention it?” He grasped the door and jerked it open, the bell overhead ringing merrily.
“Well excuse me,” she snapped back, following him inside. “I was sort of in a hurry.”
“In such a hurry you went shopping?” He glanced around the empty tea shop. His worry escalated. The odd buzz that vibrated the entire area wasn’t natural.
“I wasn’t shopping, you arse. I was gathering herbs for spells.”
“Yes, because we know you do those so well.”
“Screw you.” She shoved her finger into his chest, much like Ellie had done yesterday. At the rate he was going, by this evening he’d have no one on his side. Just as well that he confront the demon alone.
“We all know the real reason why you’re being such a dick,” Camile snapped.
“Oh really?” He placed his hands on his hips and glared down at her. “Pray, do tell.”
She tilted her chin high, showing no fear. “Because you’re in love with Ellie and you’re worried. Plain and simple.”
Devon clenched his jaw, too afraid to respond. Afraid he’d tell her the truth. And he knew it was the truth. He might not be able to admit it out loud, but he was afraid. Afraid for Ellie. Afraid that in a day or two this would all be over. A vague dream. He didn’t want it to end, this time on earth. This time with Ellie.
Camile’s face softened as she sighed. “Love will do that to a person. Make them worry. Sucks, but part of the process, I suppose. You can’t protect her, Devon. That’s the thing that sucks the most. There’s nothing you can do but enjoy the time you have with her.”
Bloody hell, he was done sharing his feelings with someone who might be a traitor. What the hell did she know about sacrifice? She was a human who dabbled with witchcraft she didn’t truly understand. “I’m not here to discuss my emotions.”
Camile’s face hardened once more. “Fine. You want to play it that way?”
“We have more important things to worry about than romance and love,” he snapped. “Like life and death.”
He started across the room, his shoes thumping against the floorboards. Only less than a week ago he’d been in town and the place hadn’t been bustling, but there were certainly enough people walking around. He brushed aside the curtains and peered out onto the empty cobbled streets. Where the hell was John? The leprechaun wouldn’t leave without telling them.
Camile shoved the back door wide and peered into the kitchen. “No one.”
Even from across the room, he could see the unease in her eyes. It made him rethink his opinion of her guilt. The confusion and nervousness didn’t look faked. Was it truly inexperience which had the spells going awry? Damn it all, he was tired of not knowing who to trust.
“Why isn’t anyone here?” she asked.
“I don’t know.”
She moved across the room to the bar and picked up the phone. “No dial tone.”
A shiver of warning whispered over his skin. “Tell me now… can I trust you?”
She planted her hands to the top of the bar and looked steadily at him. “Devon, you’ve always been able to trust me.”
“Then tell me what the hell is going on, Camile. You know as well as I that something is off here.”
“I don’t know! But you know I can do spells. You’ve seen me!”
“I’ve seen you mess up multiple times.”
“Rose checked them, and I triple checked everything.”
“Then we’ll talk to Rose.” He stomped toward the door and pulled it wide. “Someone isn’t telling the truth and I’m going to find out who.” He fully intended to transport and leave Camile behind when he felt the slightest stirrings of a warning.
“Devon!” Camile cried.
He spun around just in time to see a streak of gray fur leaping toward him. Paws slammed into his chest, hurling him backwards. Coming to his senses, Devon disappeared right before he hit the ground. For a split second everything was black. Just as suddenly as the darkness had come, it was gone. Light burst to life, the town coming into focus once more, this time from a different angle. Devon’s feet hit the cobbled street a stone’s throw from the werewolf. He wavered, attempting to regain his balance. He’d never transported in midfall. He frantically searched for the wolf. The beast had turned his attention to easier prey.
With a growl, he snapped his large muzzle at Camile.
Camile skittered back, the witch completely unprotected. “Devon, I could use some help!”
She grappled with a pouch that hung around her neck. Lord, she was going to attempt a spell again? Whatever was in the pouch, he knew she couldn’t get to it fast enough. Devon burst forward, hitting the wolf and knocking the animal off balance. With a yelp, the wolf rolled down the lane, flailing his legs to regain his balance.
“Camile, let’s go!”
But before the witch could run his way, the dog was on his feet again. His back arched, his yellow gaze coming to focus on Devon. Camile stood between the two of them. “Camile, drop!”
She glanced at him, her eyes wide with confusion and fear.
“Drop to the ground, Camile!”
She fell to her knees and Devon lifted his hand. Warmth rushed through his arm, to his fingertips and beyond. A fireball appeared, hovering over his palm. As the wolf leapt toward him, Devon threw the ball. The flame hit the mutt in the chest, exploding into a burst of light. The wolf cried out, a cry of pain, of torture. He fell back, the fire burning his fur as he wriggled and writhed upon the cobbled stone like a worm in sunlight.
“Come on!” Devon latched onto Camile’s hand and jerked her down the footpath.
“A werewolf?” she gasped, racing beside him. “We haven’t seen a werewolf in—”
“About seven months?”
She nodded, starting toward the pub.
“Not the drive.” He led her toward the woods that separated the Pub from the town. Devon crouched low, hiding behind the branches of a fir tree. “We’re being followed.” He studied the town, just beyond the trees. No movement in those stone homes. No movement on the cobbled lanes. The wolf was dead. A pile of singed fur upon the ground. But he could sense the others, watching, waiting for their chance. Damn it all, he should have noticed the moment he stepped into town, but he’d been too focused on his human emotions.
Camile knelt beside him, still gasping for air. “Leave me. Get help. I know you can transport.”
Devon narrowed his eyes, studying her face for guilt. Damn it all, there was that unease again. Why did she want him to leave? Was she really that much of a martyr, or was it merely so she could speak to her allies, the werewolves?
“Don’t be stupid,” he said. “You’ll be dead before I’m back. Besides… there’re too many.”
She rested her hand on his bicep. “Devon, if the town is being attacked, that means—”
He turned and peered through the fir trees, attempting to decipher shadows from forms. “The demon is near. He’s calling them to his side. Gathering his army and they’re going to attack here.”