The Devil's Due mk-3

by Jenna Black

  Now wasn’t the time to moan about feeling sick, though. We had to get rid of the demon that had possessed Devon Brewster III before he became a danger once again. I sat on the ground in front of Brewster—an act for which my weak knees thanked me—and closed my eyes.

  It was hard to concentrate on anything but the queasiness and the pounding in my head, but I tried to reproduce the calm, tranquil trance state I’d achieved in Tommy’s car despite all the nerves that had troubled me. My gorge rose, and I had all I could handle trying to fight it down.

  “Hurry up!” Raphael urged, and I wanted to give him a swift kick in the ass. Putting more pressure on me wasn’t going to make relaxing any easier.

  I almost blurted out that he should do it himself if he was in such a hurry, but remembered just in time that humans weren’t supposed to know demons could perform exorcisms. I didn’t know what Brewster’s demon might make of my forbidden knowledge, but I didn’t want to find out.

  I could hear Brewster starting to struggle. Weakly, to be sure, but he wouldn’t stay weak much longer. I had to fight past the sickness and get this done.

  When I managed to conjure the scent of vanilla in my mind, I almost hurled. Food smells and queasy stomachs don’t go well together. I was on the verge of panicking, when Lugh said, Here, let me, and took control of me for the third time this evening.

  Instantly, my body steadied, and strength returned. Lugh mimicked my ritual with no trouble, and he was more than powerful enough to cast the demon from Brewster’s body. He put me back in control as soon as he was done.

  I felt even worse than I had before, and this time I couldn’t stop myself from being sick in the bushes.

  “What’s wrong?” Raphael asked, still pinning the now-human Brewster to the ground.

  My hands were shaking, and my skin felt clammy. And I hadn’t the faintest idea what was wrong with me. And why Lugh hadn’t fixed whatever it was after he’d done the exorcism?

  I think your body is having an adverse reaction to the continued changes of control, Lugh said in my mind. I tried to fix it, but I think I just made it worse. Sorry.

  Great! Just when I’d gotten almost comfortable with the ability to let Lugh help out when necessary, there was another reason not to.

  “Can I get up now?” Devon Brewster asked, his voice surprisingly calm after all he must have gone through.

  Raphael rolled off him, and Brewster raised himself to a sitting position. Despite my misery, it was almost funny, the three of us sitting here on the ground in a clump of mangy woods in the dark, but no one seemed in a huge hurry to get up.

  “How are you feeling, Mr. Brewster?” I asked, trying to take the focus off how I, myself, was feeling.

  Brewster blinked at me. “My name is Dick.”

  I was pleasantly surprised to discover his mind was intact. Rarely did two exorcisms in a row turn out so favorably for the host. But I wondered if he was suffering from some kind of shock after the exorcism. “Is ‘Dick’ your nickname?”

  “What?” Devon/Dick said.

  “Is ‘Dick’ a nickname for ‘Devon’?” I asked, speaking slowly and carefully.

  His forehead furrowed with concentration. “I don’t know.”

  What the hell was the matter with him? Maybe he had some kind of weird brain damage after all. Maybe the demon hadn’t thoroughly healed those gunshot wounds. I was trying to remember one of those simple questions you’re supposed to ask people who might have concussions, but Dick/Devon spoke again.

  “Am I supposed to know?” he asked, and there was no missing the anxiety in his voice. “I’m sorry.” He sounded even more agitated. “I’ll do better next time!”

  “Hush,” Raphael said quietly. “No one’s upset with you.”

  Dick/Devon looked enormously relieved, then broke out into a goofy smile. “My name is Dick,” he said with renewed confidence.

  Thinking of those gunshot wounds to his head made me think of how impossible what I’d witnessed had been. Those wounds would have killed any normal demon host. And then I remembered the bits and pieces of information Raphael had reluctantly coughed up about the Houston project’s goals. Goals like accelerated healing.

  My stomach gave an unhappy lurch, but luckily I had nothing left in it or I’d have been puking in the bushes again.

  Dick was one of the Houston superhosts, and if this was his real personality we were seeing right now, he must have been possessed for a long time. Certainly throughout the course of his marriage. But it made no sense! It couldn’t be a coincidence that two Houston superhosts ended up living in the same house. And if Dick/Devon was a superhost, then what the hell was he doing living the life of the idle rich?

  I turned to glare at Raphael. He was trying to act as baffled as I felt, but he looked too nervous to pull it off.

  “What the hell is going on?” I asked him.

  “I want to go home,” Dick said plaintively.

  But how could we take him back to Claudia and the girls like this?

  “We’ll take you home,” Raphael promised, “but we have some things to take care of first.”

  “Yeah, like you telling me—” I began, but of course he cut me off.

  “I’ll explain later. Right now, let’s figure out what to tell Claudia and get out of here.”

  “We can’t take him home to Claudia like this!” I insisted.

  Raphael grimaced. “That’s not what he means by ‘home,’” he said cryptically. “I promise I’ll explain, but right now we have to get back.”

  I wanted the full explanation now. But Claudia was probably still terrified that the demons were going to come for her children again. I couldn’t leave her like that while I satisfied my need for answers. “All right,” I agreed reluctantly. “But what are we going to tell her?”

  Biting my tongue until I could have some quality alone-time with Raphael was one of the hardest things I’d ever done. Especially when I felt like I had three cases of flu all at the same time.

  I let Raphael do all the talking when we got back to the Brewster place. He was, after all, a consummate liar. He told Claudia that her husband had been possessed, and that he’d attacked me and then run off when Raphael had come to my rescue. Naturally, Claudia was devastated, and I would have felt sorry for her if I weren’t so busy feeling sorry for myself. Dick—who’d shown no indication that he thought of Claudia’s house as his home—lay on the backseat of Tommy’s car, keeping out of sight, while we tied up loose ends. I’d have been worried about him running off, if it weren’t for his childlike—and guiltinducing—faith that Raphael and I would help him get home.

  Deciding to pin the three dead bodies all on Brewster’s demon, Raphael called Adam and asked him to come “investigate.” He and I and the mysterious “Dick” headed out of there before Adam arrived. Sometimes, it’s useful to have the Director of Special Forces in your pocket when you’re constantly finding yourself at crime scenes.

  When we were a few miles from the house, Dick sat up in the backseat. “Will you take me home now?”he asked, and there was a lost, forlorn sound to his voice. Clearly, his elevator didn’t go all the way to the top floor, and I wondered what we were going to do with him.

  “Not quite yet,” Raphael said. “It’s late right now. We’ll get you on your way in the morning.” I started to say something indignant, but Raphael cut me off before I got started. “We’ll talk later,” he said, with emphasis on the word “later.” He gave me a significant look, and I understood the message: not in front of our passenger.

  I didn’t like it, but again I held my tongue. “So where are we going?” I asked instead, slumping down in my seat and hoping I wasn’t about to be sick again as my stomach heaved. I was sweating and shivering at the same time.

  “To Adam’s house,” Raphael answered. “Dominic’s expecting us. They have a guest room where they can keep our friend for the night.”

  I turned in my seat to look at Dick, then regretted the motion when my h
ead started throbbing even harder. He was staring straight ahead, his gaze unfocused, almost vacant. I wondered if he had brothers named Tom and Harry. I imagined some demons would have found that funny.

  Obviously, Dick was a product of Raphael and Dougal’s eugenics program, and obviously they’d made much more progress than Raphael had ever admitted. And since they considered intelligence a drawback in a potential host, I guess they must have been happy indeed with Dick. I bet he’d never set foot outside the laboratory until some demon had decided to make use out of him.

  I wished letting Lugh take control again wouldn’t make me even sicker. Because when I got Raphael alone in a room, I’d love to have enough strength to beat the shit out of him.

  We arrived at Adam and Dom’s place, and we installed Dick in the guest room. The same guest room I’d stayed in a couple of times—you know, the one with the locks? I didn’t think Dick was going to try to go anywhere, but I had to agree that keeping him locked in was a necessary precaution.

  Afterward, we all went downstairs to the kitchen, and Dominic made a pot of extra-strong Italian coffee. It smelled heavenly, but my stomach still felt awful, and I didn’t dare drink any.

  Dominic wanted us to wait for Adam before I began my interrogation of Raphael, but I didn’t have that kind of patience. Besides, I’d waited long enough.

  “It’s time to start spilling the secrets,” I told Raphael. “Now!” He was actually uncomfortable enough to squirm, and that raised my paranoia level even higher. “What the hell is Dick? How could he heal a bullet wound to the head in ten seconds? And is Tommy the same?”

  Raphael squirmed some more, then took a big sip of his coffee before straightening up in his seat and raising his head to meet my gaze.

  “I suppose a demonstration will explain things a little better than words,” he said. He took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. Then suddenly, there was a loud cracking sound, and Raphael let out a cry of pain.

  I was on my feet before I knew it, hand grabbing for my Taser, eyes scanning the kitchen for enemies. But it was just me and Dominic and Raphael.

  I opened my mouth to ask Raphael what was wrong, but the words died in my throat when I got a good look at him. My knees gave way and my ass thumped down hard on the chair.

  Tommy Brewster was attractive enough in a bland sort of way, if you could get past the sullen expressions that seemed natural on his face whether he was possessed or not. His least attractive feature was his nose, which was a little too large for his face and hooked a bit at the end.

  But as I watched, I heard more popping and cracking noises, and that hooked beak of his started to flatten out. Raphael was gripping the table with both hands, sweat dewing his skin as his eyes squinched shut and his teeth clenched.

  It took maybe thirty seconds, but by the time Raphael let out a sigh of relief and relaxed, Tommy’s nose was straight and perfectly proportioned to his face.

  “Shit,” Raphael said, wiping the sweat from his face, “that hurt like hell.”

  Dominic and I looked at one another, and I’m sure my face looked as confused and alarmed as his. Neither one of us spoke. For once in my life, I couldn’t think of anything to say.

  Raphael, still panting a bit from pain and effort, stared ahead at nothing as he spoke. “I told you the Houston project was working at making hosts with more malleable flesh. You saw the evidence of how much progress they’ve made tonight. I’d say Dick up there is from the same generation as Tommy.”

  I swallowed an almost absurd need to laugh. I guess my Tom, Dick, and Harry suspicion hadn’t been misplaced. “But Dick is Tommy’s father, so how can they be the same generation?”

  “He’s not Tommy’s father. I suspect that Devon Brewster is dead and that Dick—or actually, Dick’s demon—used the ability I just showed you to mimic his appearance.”

  I shook my head, still unable to make all the pieces add up. “So Claudia’s been living with an imposter and didn’t notice? I mean, I know Dick is the spitting image of Devon at the moment, but. .”

  “I don’t know how it was done. Tommy didn’t even know Devon was an imposter, so he can’t clue us in, either.”

  Something in his voice told me there was more. “But. .?”

  Raphael was suddenly fascinated by his coffee cup. “But I can tell you how I would have pulled the trick.”

  “Not that you’d ever do something like that yourself,” I muttered, and Raphael’s lips twitched, either with a suppressed retort or a smile.

  “If I wanted to have a possessed superhost impersonate someone, I’d have the demon possess the person to be replaced for a little while. Just long enough to rummage through his mind, get enough of a feel for him—and enough of his memories—to do a good impersonation.”

  “But then why bother with this whole replacement bit? The demon could have just stayed in Devon if he wanted to play the ultimate inside man.”

  Raphael gave me a look that said I was an idiot. “Let’s see, I could be stuck in the body of a normal, middle-aged human being—or I could possess a super-host.” He tapped his chin as if thinking deeply.

  “I’m glad you’re finding this amusing,” I growled, but Raphael merely shrugged. I wished my stomach would settle down so I could have a cup of coffee. “How much of this did you know from the very beginning?”

  “I don’t really know anything even now. It’s all conjecture.”

  I opened my mouth to say something scathing, then let it snap closed. Lecturing Raphael on morality just wasn’t worth the effort. Strangely enough, he looked defensive anyway. Perhaps he did have a small, stunted conscience somewhere in his cold, black heart.

  “If I’d thought it was important information to help us put Lugh back on the throne, I’d have told the truth.” He looked back and forth between me and Dominic, I guess hoping he’d find someone who’d sympathize. He was out of luck.

  “How are any of us supposed to trust you when you’ve lied yet again?” I asked, surprised at how calm I sounded. I felt more like I should be jumping up and down and throwing things. But somehow I was just too tired, too wrung out. And too sick. My stomach was getting increasingly unhappy again, and I suspected I’d be making a run for the bathroom in a few minutes.

  Raphael picked up his coffee cup and stared into its depths. “Do I get any credit for helping you save those kids? I didn’t have to do that, you know. I already had what I wanted. I already had Tommy.”

  Raphael’s really a piece of work! This was exactly why he’d helped me save the children—so he could use it as evidence of what an upstanding citizen he was when he was forced to give up his current batch of secrets. I laughed a bit at the realization, though Raphael and Dominic both looked puzzled. I guess they couldn’t see the humor in it.

  Yes, Raphael’s morality would always be in question, and I could never be sure anything he told me was the truth. But he was a powerful demon of the royal line, he was now in possession of one of his lab-bred superhosts who clearly had properties that we might find useful, and he was loyal to Lugh. For all his faults, we were stuck with him.

  Sometimes, life just sucks.

  CHAPTER 30

  I was still sick as a dog the next day, and would have liked nothing more than to stay curled up in bed for the foreseeable future. Unfortunately, I was stupid enough to answer the phone when Claudia called—I’d forgotten her insistence that we would “talk tomorrow.” Somehow, I ended up agreeing to meet her for lunch, although I doubted I’d be up to eating by then.

  I had to bring Raphael—with his nose now shifted back to normal—to lunch with me, because I knew I’d never be able to feed Claudia the pack of lies we’d concocted. I say “we,” but naturally it was Raphael who came up with the story. Although we assumed Devon was dead, we had no idea where the demons had hidden the body, so we had to let Claudia go on thinking he was on the loose somewhere, possessed by a hostile demon. I’d have preferred to have given her closure, but I honestly couldn’t think of
a good alternative.

  I liked the story about Tommy even less. We told Claudia that when Raphael had tried to leave Tommy and transfer back to his original host, Tommy’s brain had shut down, just like Jordan Maguire’s. Raphael—the hero! — had quickly gone back into Tommy to save his life. And so, despite the fact that I had exorcized the demon who had originally possessed Tommy, Tommy was doomed to host a demon for the rest of his life.

  “I’m so sorry,” I blurted to Claudia when Raphael finished talking.

  Her eyes were red-rimmed and glimmered with tears, but she managed a fragile smile. “Don’t be,” she said. “You did everything you could, and I’m sure Tommy’s in much better hands now with your friend.”

  I still hadn’t recovered from last night’s nausea, and I almost gagged at the thought of Raphael’s hands being better than anyone’s.

  “If it weren’t for you,” Claudia continued, “that horrible demon would still be in Tommy, and the girls and I would probably all be dead. I can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done for us!”

  I wished the floor would swallow me. Here she was thanking me, when I had willingly sacrificed her son to save my brother. I sat there choking on guilt, unable to say anything, unable to meet her eyes.

  “Ease up on the self-flagellation,” Raphael told me when we got back into Tommy’s POS car. “I didn’t tell you this earlier, because I figured you wouldn’t believe me, and you probably still won’t. But there are a lot of cancer genes bred into this strain, and all hell would break loose in Tommy’s body if he didn’t have a demon in residence to keep the cancer contained. He already had a couple of tumors beginning. Too small to give him any trouble yet, but a few months down the road. .”

  I stared straight ahead through the windshield. “You’re right. I don’t believe you.”

  One week later, Lugh’s council on the Mortal Plain gathered in the basement of Adam and Dominic’s house. That council consisted of me, Adam, Dominic, Raphael, Andy. . and Brian.