What a Demon Wants (21 page)

Chapter 23

Jude dried off, his thoughts still on whether he should tell Ellina how he felt. She hadn’t offered anything more committed to him than “that feels good” or “I like that.”

But he was crazy about her. They had a connection—an electric feeling that seemed to surround them all the time.

He’d never experienced anything like it and he didn’t want to risk losing her and that connection just because he was too chickenshit to say “I love you” first.

He pushed open the door to the guest room, heading in to get some clothes, when he spotted his weapons bag on the bed. Open.

He paused, concentrating.

Ellina wasn’t in the house.

Panic rose up in him.

He didn’t sense anything different about the house. No residual energy of another person.

So she must have found the bag. What would motivate her to look for it? And why wouldn’t she just ask him about the weapons?

Then he smelled something. He stepped closer to the bag. The smell definitely radiated from here.

He reached down, noticing a white-ish gray powder on the black nylon of the gun case. He sniffed.

The same stuff from Ellina’s attack.

So where was she? Did someone have her?

Suddenly he got a vivid image.

Pete.

Oh God, he couldn’t be late again. Not this time.

“Come on in,” Pete said, opening the door of his shotgun cottage just two doors down from hers. But unlike her place decorated in fairy-tale colors, her own fairy-tale world, Pete had chosen to go with darker, more masculine colors.

She stepped inside, surprised at the clutter everywhere. Newspapers littered the floor, a teacup and plate sat, dirty, on the coffee table.

She’d never even seen a dirty dish in his sink. He was normally fastidious.

“What’s going on?” he asked, directing her to a chair. She sat on the couch instead.

She noted his frown, then he joined her.

“After we talked, I decided I should go see if that shirt was still there.”

“And?”

“It was gone. But not only that, I found these two things in Jude’s stuff.” She dug into her pocket and pulled out the paper and packet. She set them on the table. Pete didn’t reach for them.

“And he had guns and this awful looking sword.”

Pete shook his head. “That’s scary, Ellina. Maybe it’s time to consider that he might be involved with the breakins and the incident at the hospital.”

Ellina sighed. “I can’t really believe that. Not about Jude. Sure, the weapons startled me, and I don’t know what to make of the spell, but I should have stayed and asked him.”

She started to rise, when Pete reached over and stopped her.

Ellina’s gaze narrowed as he got close.

“Listen, why don’t you just relax for a second and I’ll get us some coffee.”

She nodded, watching him go.

She sat up and said in a slightly louder than normal voice, “Can I have extra sugar in mine?”

“Sure,” Pete answered without pausing.

Ellina froze. She’d noticed that Pete looked different somehow the last few times she’d seen him. Now she knew what it was—he didn’t have in his hearing aids. He’d never been able to hear her without them.

And the man who just left her smelled like coffee and garlic. And that powder. And he didn’t even question what she meant when she’d referred to the spell. Pete didn’t know about her spells.

This guy intended to sacrifice her, as per the spell.

Ellina rose. Then she paused. That man in the kitchen was not her friend, Pete. But that didn’t mean Pete wasn’t in there somewhere.

Just then she saw a shadow outside the door. Electricity seemed to fill the air like a lightning storm. She could tell Jude was near.

“Here you go,” Pete said, returning with two mugs. He handed her one and again she got a whiff of that powder. She backed away.

“You know, I think I should probably go check on Jude. I shouldn’t have left him alone in my house.” Ellina made it out from behind the coffee table, sure she could dash for the door, when she slipped on some of the scattered newspaper.

Her slight loss of footing gave Pete time to grab her.

Ellina screamed.

Jude stood on the doorstep, listening. Finding Pete’s place had been simple. He followed Ellina’s electricity still in the air. He’d actually thought that Ellina was going to make it out of there on her own, but then he heard a scream.

Without further thought he slammed into the door, wood cracking under his force.

He entered to see Pete holding Ellina. A dagger to her throat.

Jude aimed his Glock at the human’s head, but it was Ellina who shouted, “No!”

“Don’t kill him,” she cried. “He’s possessed.”

Jude shook his head. “I don’t care. He’s also got a fuckin’ knife to your throat.”

“That’s right,” Pete said, pressing it a little harder to her skin.

“But killing me won’t do you any good,” she managed to sound calm, “because you missed a pretty significant word in the spell.”

“What’s that,” Pete sneered.

“You need a human sacrifice. And I’m not human.”

And just like that, Ellina morphed into her demon self.

Possessed Pete released her as if he’d gotten burned by her red skin. He backed away from her. He didn’t know that she didn’t have any real powers, but she certainly looked the part.

She hurried over to Jude, hugging him, even though he still kept the gun trained on the other man.

Ellina turned back to Pete.

“I can help you,” she said. “But you’ve got to stop breaking into my place. And attacking me.”

The non-Pete nodded. “Just get me out of the damned human.”

She nodded. “I can do that.”

Then she looked to Jude, who clearly still didn’t trust the other guy.

“I guess you were right about him. He didn’t want to just be my friend.”

Jude nodded. “Told you.”

She laughed. “I love you. Is it too soon to say that?”

“Not a moment too soon.” He lowered the gun and turned to kiss his demon girl.

Possessed Pete just sighed and rolled his eyes. His plans never went right.

Epilogue

Ellina curled closer to Jude’s side as they lounged on her sofa, watching Jude’s new favorite, The Food Network.

“I think your grand opening was a rousing success,” she said with a proud smile.

“I think so too,” he admitted.

Jude had still refused to accept Maksim’s money for guarding her, but he had agreed to let Ellina invest as a full partner.

In fact, she’d agreed to be a full partner in his business and in his life. “I think the wedding will be perfect in the garden at the restaurant,” she said.

“Right near my favorite bench.”

She laughed. That was her favorite bench too.

“And I have to admit, I’m much happier having the real Pete in our wedding—over the possessed one,” he said.

She laughed again. “Me too. I don’t need anyone trying to sacrifice me on my wedding day.”

“No definitely not. I still can’t believe Pete thinks he was in Hawaii that whole time he was possessed.”

“Well, if you have to be possessed, that’s the way to do it, I guess.”

They both laughed.

“Speaking of wedding guests, must we invite the twins?”

Ellina nodded. “They are family. And they didn’t put me in the cat. Now that I know that was Orabella, Maksim’s hideously evil ex, I feel better about the twins.”

Maksim and Vittorio, Orabella’s son, had pieced that mystery together based on the things Orabella had done to them both. Orabella had come to Ellina to ask about demon spells, which Ellina had been going to tell Vittorio about, because she’d had a bad feeling about the woman. The cat trick was how Orabella had stopped her.

“Okay,” Jude sighed, “the evil twins can come. I don’t actually care who’s there as long as I get to marry you and get to spend all eternity with you.”

She kissed him. “That’s a definite.” She kissed him again.

“I love you,” he said against her lips.

“I love you too. You’re just what a demon wants.”

They cuddled again, half watching a chef make something with zucchini and squid.

But mostly starting to lazily stroke each other’s skin while losing themselves in each other.

“You know, it really is a good thing I stopped using real spells in my books,” Ellina said. “I never would have thought Pete would try to perform one and get himself possessed.”

Jude nodded, but then he said, “But you still have six books out there with real spells in them.”

She nodded. “But Pete was a friend and read all my stuff. Really, what are the chances of another human trying to perform one?”

Somewhere in Boston…

“I can’t believe we are actually doing this,” Madison said, rolling her eyes at the other two girls.

Daisy opened the book wider, ignoring her uptight friend.

“I think it’s fun,” Emma said. Emma was always up for whatever.

“Shh,” Daisy said. “We have to be focused. Jenny Bell says spells only work if you focus.”

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She was a fool.

Bronwyn felt her heart freeze, because the man was huge. The hilt of his sword reflected the last of the daylight. His stallion was a good two hands taller than her mare. It could run her down with no trouble at all. Worse yet, the man wore the kilt of the McJames clan. With her father and brothers raiding their land, he had no reason to treat her kindly.

His body was cut with hard muscles, and where his shirtsleeves were rolled up, she saw the evidence that spoke of his firsthand knowledge and skill with that sword. She scanned the ridge above him quickly, fearing that the McJameses had decided to repay her father’s raids by doing a few themselves.

But there was no one in the fading light. Her teeth worried her lower lip as she returned her attention to him. She’d never considered that a McJames warrior might enjoy an afternoon ride the same as she.

“Good day to ye, lass.” His voice was deep and edged with playfulness. He reached up and tugged on the corner of his knitted bonnet, a half smile curving his lips. His light-colored hair brushing his wide shoulders, a single thin braid running down along the side of his face to keep it out of his eyes. He wore only a leather doublet over his shirt, and the sleeves of the doublet were hanging behind him. There was a majestic quality to him. One that was mesmerizing. Her brother Keir was a very large man, and she wasn’t used to meeting men who measured up to his size. This one did. He radiated strength from his booted feet to his blond hair. There was nothing small or weak about him. In his presence she felt petite, something she was unaccustomed to. Almost as though she noticed that she was a woman and that her body was fashioned to fit against his male one.

“Good day.”

She had no idea why she spoke to him. It was an impulse. A shiver raced down her back. Her eyes widened, heat stinging her cheeks, her mouth suddenly dry. A shudder shook her gently, surprising her. Beneath her doublet, her nipples tingled, the sensation unnerving.

His gaze touched on her face, witnessing the scarlet stain creeping across it. A flicker of heat entered his eyes. It was bold, but something inside her enjoyed knowing that she sparked such a look in him.

“It’s a fine day for riding.”

His words were innocent of double meaning, but Bronwyn drew in a sharp breath because her mind imagined a far different sort of riding. Her own thoughts shocked her deeply. She’d never been so aware of just what a man might do with a woman when they were alone, and now was the poorest time for her body to be reacting to such things. It felt as though he could read her mind. At least the roguish smile he flashed her hinted that he could. His lips settled back into a firm line. She had to jerk her eyes away from them, but that left her staring into his blue eyes. Hunger flickered there and her body approved. Her nipples drew tight, hitting her boned stays.

“Ye shouldna look at me like that, lass.” He sounded like he was warning himself more than her, but her blush burned hotter because he was very correct.

“Nor should ye look at me as ye are.”

A grin split his lips, flashing a hint of his teeth. “Ye have that right. But what am I to do when ye stand there so tempting? I’m merely a man.”

And for some reason she felt more like a woman than she ever had. Something hot and thick flowed through her veins. There was no thinking about anything. Her body was alive with sensations, touching off longings she’d thought deeply buried beneath the harsh reality of her father’s loathing to see her wed.

“A man who is far from his home.” Her gaze touched on his kilt for a moment, the blue, yellow, and orange of the McJames clan holding her attention. “I’m a McQuade.”

“I figured that already, but its nae my clan that keeps us quarrelling.”

He let his horse close the distance again. The mare didn’t move now; she stood quivering as the large stallion made a circle around her. The same flood of excitement swept through Bronwyn, keeping her mesmerized by the man moving around her. Bronwyn shook her head, trying to regain her wits.

“But I’m thinking that we just might be able to get along quite nicely.” His eyes flickered with promise. “Ye and I.”

“Ye should go. Ye’re correct that it is my clansmen that seek trouble with the McJameses. Ye shouldna give them a reason to begin a fight.”

“And ye would nae see that happen? I’m pleasantly surprised.”

His stallion was still moving in a circle around her. Bronwyn had to twist her neck to keep him in sight. Every time he went behind her, her body tightened, every muscle drawing taut with anticipation. Such a response defied everything that she knew.

“Surprised that I’ve no desire to see blood spilt? Being a McJames does not mean I am cruel at heart. What is yer name?” he asked.

Fear shot through her, ending her fascination with him. Being the laird’s daughter meant she was a prize worth taking. Riding out alone so far had been a mistake she just might pay for with her body. Few would believe her if she told them her father wouldn’t pay any ransom for her. Beyond money, there were men who would consider taking her virtue a fine way to strike back at her clan.

“I’ll no tell ye that. McQuade is enough for ye to know.”

“I disagree with ye. ’Tis much too formal only knowing your clan name. I want to know what ye were baptized.”

“Yet ye’ll have to be content for I shall nae tell ye my Christian name.” He frowned, but Bronwyn forced herself to be firm. This flirtation was dangerous. Her heart was racing but with more than fear. “If ye get caught on McQuade land, I’ll no be able to help ye.”

“Would that make ye sad, lass?”

“No.” He was toying with her. “But it would ruin supper, what with all the gloating from the men that drove ye back onto McJames land. There would be talk of nothing else.”

One golden eyebrow rose as the horse moved closer to her. He swung a leg over the saddle and jumped to the ground. Her belly quivered in the oddest fashion. But she had been correct about one thing—this man was huge.

“Are ye sure, lass? I might be willing to press me luck if I thought ye’d feel something for me.”

“That’s foolishness. Get on with ye. I willna tell ye my name. Ye’re a stranger; I dinna feel anything beyond Christian goodwill toward ye.”

“Is that so?”

“It is.”

He flashed another grin at her, but this one was far more calculating and full of intent. “Afraid I might sneak into yer home and steal ye if I know whose daughter ye are?”

He came closer but kept a firm hand on the reins of his mount. Authority shone from his face now, clear, determined, and undeniable. This man was accustomed to leading. It was part of the fibers that made up his being. He would have the nerve to steal her if that was what he decided upon. There was plenty enough arrogance in him, for certain. She felt it in the pit of her belly. What made her eyelashes flutter to conceal her emotions was the excitement such knowledge unleashed in her.

“Enough teasing,” she said. “Neither of us are children.”

“Aye, I noticed that already.”

Her face brightened once more. His eyes swept her and his expression tightened.

Maybe she had never seen a man looking at her like that afore, but her body seemed to understand exactly what the flicker of hunger meant. She stared at it, mesmerized.

“Tell me yer name, lass.”

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The hot, steamy shower felt like heaven on earth as it pounded his back and neck. He should have done this earlier. It was almost better than sleep. Almost. He’d realized after Kirby had left that he’d probably only grabbed a few hours after arriving, and he’d fully expected to be out the instant his head hit the pillow again. But that hadn’t been the case.

This time it hadn’t been because he was worried about Dan, or Vanetta, or anyone else back home, or even wondering what in the hell he thought he was doing this far from the desert.

In New England, for God’s sake. During the winter. Although it didn’t appear to be much of one out here.

No, that blame lay right on the lovely, slender shoulders of Kirby Farrell, innkeeper and rescuer of trapped kittens. Granted, after the adrenaline rush of finding her hanging more than twenty feet off the ground by her fingertips, it shouldn’t be surprising that sleep eluded him, but that wasn’t entirely the cause. Maybe he’d simply spent too long around women who were generally overprocessed, overenhanced, and overly made up, so that meeting a regular, everyday ordinary woman seemed to stand out more.

It was a safe theory, anyway.

And yet, after only a few hours under her roof, he’d already become a foster dad to a wild kitten and had spent far more time thinking about said kitten’s savior than he had his own host of problems.

Maybe it was simply easier to think about someone else’s situation. Which would explain why he was wondering about things like whether or not Kirby making a go of things with her new enterprise here, what with the complete lack of winter weather they were having. And what her story was before opening the inn. Was this place a lifelong dream? For all he knew, she was some New England trust fund baby just playing at running her own place. Except that didn’t jibe with what he’d seen of her so far.

He’d been so lost in his thoughts while enjoying the rejuvenation of the hot shower that he clearly hadn’t heard his foster child’s entrance into the bathroom. Which was why he almost had a heart attack when he turned around to find the little demon hanging from the outside of the clear shower curtain by its tiny, sharp nails, eyes wide in panic.

After his heart resumed a steady pace, he bent down to look at her, eye-to-wild-eye.

“You keep climbing things you shouldn’t and one day there will be no one to rescue you.”

He was sure the responding hiss was meant to be ferocious and intimidating, but given the pink-nosed, tiny, whiskered face it came out of, not so much. She hissed again when he just grinned, and started grappling with the curtain when he outright laughed, mangling it in the process.

He swore under his breath. “So, I’m already down one sweater, a shower curtain, and God knows what else you’ve dragged under the bed. I should just let you hang there all tangled up. At least I know where you are.”

However, given that the tiny thing had already had one pretty big fright that day, he sighed, shut off the hot, life-giving spray, and very carefully reached out for a towel. After a quick rubdown, he wrapped the towel around his hips, eased out from the other end of the shower, and grabbed a hand towel. “We’ll probably be adding this to my tab, as well.” He doubted Kirby’s guests would appreciate a bath towel that had doubled as a kitty straightjacket.

“Come on,” he said, doing pretty much the same thing he’d done when the kitten had been attached to the front of Kirby. “I know you’re not happy about it,” he told the now squalling cat. “I’m not all that amped up, either.” He looked at the shredded curtain once he’d de-pronged the demon from the front of it and shuddered to think of just how much damage it had done to the front of Kirby.

“Question is…what do I do with you now?”