Demon Hunt (4 page)

“
I’ll come over to help in the morning,” Pam offered. “The junk you manage to find is freaky.”

“
One woman’s junk is another woman’s shabby chic. See you in the morning about 10 a.m.?”

Pam groaned. “Southern girls get up way too early. You work in a casino, Rhi. When are you going to learn casino workers don’t function well in bright light, kinda like vampires. Those ethics might be contagious but I’ll be there.”

“
Did you have to say vampire? I’m alone over here and I’m not a badass ex-marine like you. Can you really kill someone with your pinky finger?” The idea of Pam in a Marine’s uniform intrigued Rhi. Her contentious friend couldn’t have taken orders very well. “Tell Katie I’ll make her some pancakes and sausage.”

“
Please don’t. She thinks there’s something lacking in me because I don’t keep a “Martha Stewart” clean house like you. All I need is for her to see you cook. And if my daughter starts preferring you over me - I’ll have to kill you with my pinky finger.”

“
Bye!” Rhi put the phone in the pocket of her shirt and plopped into the chair. She needed to relax, read and not sleep for the rest of her life.

So what if a murderer was on the loose? What self-respecting, axe wielding killer would tromp out this far in this weather?

A yawn exploded out of her mouth and she reconsidered the ‘not sleeping again’ scheme. Maybe the dreams were over for the night. She had a job to keep and she could not afford to be groggy on her blackjack table, she liked her job too much for that. She pulled the quilt over her legs and leaned the chair back to snooze position.

“
Ellie, if anything bursts into the house while I’m asleep, please eat it and don’t wake me unless there’s a ghost standing over me, holding a tray with some doughnuts and coffee.”

In response, the bloodhound rolled over onto her back with all four legs in the air and snored.

* * * *

A few hundred feet away from the house, darkness gathered to form the outline of a man standing in between the two evergreens guarding the driveway. Jack Blackthorne’s jeans, turtleneck, calf-length sheepskin jacket and work gloves were woefully inadequate for the weather but he didn’t notice the cold.

He could feel her in the house, the girl and her ridiculous dog. Of all of the animals she could have owned, how did she end up with one that could sense his presence? A hound of the
Templars. Those guys always
did
get on his nerves, some more than others.

When Blackthorne spotted Rhi Brennan in the casino a few hours beforehand, his chest felt like someone had hit him with a two-by-four.

She gave him a little sideways glance as she dealt, sensing his presence. Certainly she didn’t know why she sensed him or who she felt staring as she dealt hand after hand of blackjack. But she knew she was being watched.

He stood there like an idiot and stared for an embarrassing amount of time. She had no idea.

Now, in front of her home, Blackthorne reached out to touch the invisible barrier surrounding the house. So close … he could smell her life force. A warding held him back. Additional, weaker wardings kept the hillside demon-free but allowed him through without any fireworks. His hand glowed red against the wall of snow. He could break the second ward with a snap of his fingers.

One person in town knew how or would want to ward the girl and that knowledge irritated him even more. He took another glance at Rhi Brennan’s windows and turned to leave before pausing to stare hard into the stand of evergreens to the left of the drive.

With a weary sigh, he trudged towards the darkness gathering in the empty space between the trees. He got close enough to view another empty clearing and fresh tracks marked by black stains in the snow. His uncanny sense of smell told him the color of the stains in daylight would be scarlet red. The blood would turn into frozen red lumps by morning. He didn’t make the effort to glance in the direction of the dozens of slitted, red eyes blinking in the darkness down the hill from where he stood. He didn’t need to see minor demons, their scent was easy to identify, even in the wind.

“
Isn’t this delicious, Blackie? She’s here!” A familiar voice hissed beside his ear. The smug superiority in the voice annoyed him almost as much as the wards.

Blackthorne whirled and his sword appeared in his hand. No one. “Not up to a good brawl tonight, Manus? But, I forgot, you prefer your opponents a little less able to kill you.” He swished his sword around in the air, for intimidation and in the hope that he might impale the little prick.

The voice continued in a conversational tone. “I’ve been here for weeks, don’t you know. I was a little miffed you hadn’t arrived yet. Pearl’s been here for a while. You’d think she’d drop you a line or something. Let you know the gang’s all
here.”

The idiot droned on as the number of red eyes in the woods multiplied. Did Manius hope Blackthorne didn’t notice?

“
How long has it been since we have been thrown together, bro? Bosnia? Afghanistan? Iraq? The Bronx? My work is so varied and far reaching since I got back - one would think you would’ve been here earlier to chase after me. You must be getting old.”

The source of the voice changed several times during the one-sided conversation. Blackthorne grimaced. Manius was jumping from tree to tree to keep from getting a sword jammed in a very uncomfortable place. He spent an enjoyable moment thinking about the picture that kind of ‘accident’ would make. “You don’t have an accent anymore,” he remarked. “You sound American.”

“
I’ve been watching television a lot. By the way … love the modern guy in a duster with a sword look.”

“
I don’t have a lot of time for television,” Blackthorne replied as he prepared himself for a fight that was a bit premature. But the diminutive house was too vulnerable. “The idiot box will burn your brain out. Is that why you shortened our father’s name to Black – because you now have the attention span of a gerbil and can’t remember the original?”

Laughter filled the air.

Blackthorne stared up at the shadow as the dark form took to the sky, disappearing into the remnants of the storm. Drops of blood rained down onto the snow. He knew better than to hope Manius had been wounded. His brother’s voice had been swelled with the power of human sacrifice, the evidence of his crime the globs of frozen blood against the whiteness.

As he stared down at the snow, a small hand touched his shoulder and he whirled, prepared to gut whoever had managed to sneak up on him. A smaller blade parried his sword.

The woman holding the opposing weapon grinned as she lowered her blade. “He always could make an entrance, huh? He’s been up and about for a couple of years and already watches too much television.”

Pure silk, the woman’s husky tones were capable of bringing most men to their knees – except for the ones on the receiving end of her pit viper temper. The sword vanished into the luxurious, dark furs she wore. An outfit for every occasion. Classic Pearl DeVere.

“
He swished by to greet you, huh?” Pearl stepped back to allow Blackthorne time to recover from the humiliating fact that he, an honest-to-God knight, had been taken by surprise by an overdressed fashion plate half his size. “If anyone had been interested in my opinion at the time we would not even be here, freezing our butts off. Damn those old bastards for letting him live, Blackie. Only men would decide something so ridiculous.”

Blackthorne stepped closer to her and stared down into her face. Pearl raised an eyebrow, daring him to say diddly. “You knew,” he growled. “These woods are filled with
his
creatures! With
her
here - alone.”

His best friend Pearl. Some days, in an organization comprised of several hundred men and one woman, his only friend. Blackthorne felt betrayed. Pearl’s natural impulse was to screw with men, and he usually accepted her quirks with more grace. But he didn’t feel like dealing with her stiletto sharp cleverness tonight.

“
Yes, Manius is still not shy about summoning hordes of the little monsters,” Pearl replied, not bothering to acknowledge the accusation. “I hope he hasn’t gotten too brave. A dragon or a demon prince might be a bit of a pain. But he didn’t have nearly enough the last time, did he? He got smarter over the years. Plucking thoughts, whispers and information out of the air with his mind while he lay trapped, he must have prepared for decades. While you idiots believed you had him contained, he attended antichrist-college. I wonder how much blood he took to find out when she would be here.”

“
You didn’t answer me.”

She waved a cashmere-gloved hand in the direction of the A-frame nestled on the breast of the mountain. “I didn’t imagine you needed any more torture than you already subject yourself to. The hill is warded, and her house. Heck, I even warded the car. Demons won’t enter. Manius wants to see what she’ll do as much as we do. All
he’ll
do is hover about and make nasty comments to irritate you.” Pearl’s eyes filled with blue incandescent light in the gloom. “Fate sent her here, Blackthorne, and we can’t interfere.”

Blackthorne’s face set into a grim series of planes and angles as he stared at the tiny house.

“
Are you going to stand out here in the dark all night? You’re going to look silly in the morning, covered with snow. We
do
have work to do,” Pearl told him in an impatient tone.

“
Like what? We’re as blind as he is. We have no idea where the damned thing is and we can’t do anything until the new moon. If he gets to the key first – all we’ll be doing is dying,” Blackthorne replied. He sounded tired. The sight of the A-frame made everything worse.

“
Quitting, Blackie? That’s what got you into trouble in the first place.” She stepped away to examine the blood in the snow. The wicked little blade reappeared in her hands. “We can hunt some of these beasties in the woods and keep them from eating the locals, like this poor creature.”

Blackthorne stood in Pearl’s wake for a moment before he trudged after her slim, gliding figure. He reached to free his sword from its sheath. She was right, they had work to do.

* * * *

Inside the house, Rhi slept but Ellie Mae sat near her feet at attention. The dog’s sensitive nose picked up a strange scent. An uncomfortable scent. The dog stood and paced the floor, the golden fur on her neck on end. Ellie Mae stalked back and forth between the door and Rhi for several minutes until the smell dissipated, allowing the dog to resume her original position with a puzzled expression on her wrinkled face. First the glowing box, now this.

Mountain lions, bears, raccoons, Ellie Mae scented them all since moving here. The dog didn’t fear these creatures. But although Ellie Mae didn’t recognize the new smell, the dog knew it should be feared.

Chapter Five

Sleep engulfed Rhi and her mind wandered. So close - she could feel his touch. Fire ran through her. His mouth on hers as his callused hands stroked her skin. Where did a man get such thick calluses? The room filled with blue fire. His dark hair brushed her shoulder, and his gaze met hers. His eyes glowed with an unearthly blue light and Rhi had a moment of terror. Her lungs weren’t working. A brick wall had been built on top of her chest. She coughed violently. The pressure wouldn’t stop and she fell away from his hands. She couldn’t get a breath of air, certain she was suffocating. She shook herself awake, still coughing and her lungs on fire.

Rhi stumbled to the kitchen for water. Her hands were shaking and she almost dropped the glass before catching herself. What had been in the nachos she’d shared in the break room with the rest of the casino crew? Angel dust?

“
More like demon dust,” she muttered and double-checked the doors. She would give up the recliner for the evening, even though Rhi preferred the cozy chair sometimes to the big, empty bed upstairs.

After rousing the dog, they stumbled to the bedroom, where Ellie Mae climbed in to curl up beside her mistress in the sleigh bed. Rhi scrunched her eyes closed, trying to remember who the dream man could have been. Not her ex-husband, a blonde with a sculpted body, the result of hours in the gym in front of workout mirrors. The man of her dreams was not a bodybuilder. He was muscled like a predator. A
big
predator.

She couldn’t decide whether to call the episode a nightmare or a wet dream so she settled for ignoring it like the rest of the hallucinations of the evening and snuggled next to the dog to sleep.

* * * *

In the morning, the sun rose in a glorious show of orange and yellow. Up and about after two hours of sleep, Rhi shoveled and swept the deck clean to perform her ritual of morning stretches and Tai chi moves outdoors in the cold sunlight.

The dreams and fears of the night before dissipated as she stood on the deck wrapped in a blanket over her workout sweats. She savored her aching muscles as she took in the magnificent view of the mountains, covered in eight fresh inches of white magic. The clean air flowed through her, purging the last shreds of the dreams from the night before. The Rockies pulsed with a power like no other.