The Devil's Playground mk-5

by Jenna Black

After Brian was Andy. I almost answered that one. Andy had been so withdrawn that any attempt he made to reach out was a good thing. But in the end, I chickened out on that conversation, too. He wouldn’t jump up and down and yell, but he’d be … disappointed in me. Even though I hadn’t known what Raphael was going to do. Maybe he would start to wonder—as I was beginning to—whether I should have figured it out on my own and tried to do something about it. After all, I’d been so terribly puzzled over Raphael’s mercy. Why had I not come to the natural conclusion that he had something else up his sleeve?

  The more I thought about it, the more naive I felt. I really should have known what Raphael was going to do. Yes, sometimes his mind works in ways that I don’t understand, but this shouldn’t have been hard to guess. But my subconscious sometimes does an amazing job of not letting me see what I don’t want to see.

  Great. Now I was getting as broody as Andy. Probably a good thing I’d chosen not to take his call, as I suspected he’d have made me feel even worse.

  The phone rang yet again. This time it was Adam. Adam I could bear to talk to—especially since I had some choice words for him. I might have been naive enough not to guess what Raphael was up to, and Barbie might not have known him well enough, but there was no way I’d believe Adam’s mind hadn’t traveled the same road.

  I answered the phone, trying not to feel disloyal for having blown Brian and Andy off.

  “Did you know?” I asked, skipping the pleasant greeting. I wasn’t feeling too pleasant, and Adam never bothered with pleasantries anyway.

  Adam hesitated a beat before answering. “I didn’t know. But I can’t claim I was surprised. You can yell at me for not telling you later. I’ve found that address we were looking for.”

  I’d been so busy building my anger against Raphael that I’d almost forgotten we’d gotten some useful information out of Cooper last night. Before Raphael went back and killed him.

  I shook my head to try to clear it. Cooper’s was far from the first death I’d had a hand in since Lugh had come to town, and with the damn demons invading the Mortal Plain, I didn’t have time to wallow in it.

  “Great. So are we going to be paying our friend a visit?”

  “Seems like the thing to do. I’ll pick you up at your apartment around six.”

  “So I’m going to have to yell at you in the car? Because don’t think I’m letting this drop.” It would be easier to have a good fight if he came up to my apartment. I didn’t want him crashing into anything while he was distracted.

  “If that would make you happy, be my guest. But since I’ll have Raphael with me, I suspect you’ll have a more appealing target.”

  “No,” I said, and it was almost a yell. “You are not bringing him with you. Period.”

  Adam gave a long-suffering sigh. “Of course I’m bringing him with me. You know all the reasons why, so don’t make me repeat them on the phone.”

  There were a lot of things I wanted to say—and most of them weren’t safe to say on the goddamn phone. “If you insist on bringing him with you, then you’re both going to come up to my apartment and we’re going to have a come-to-Jesus meeting before we set foot anywhere near our friend. Got it?” So far, we’d spoken to three people about the sudden influx of demons, and all three of them were dead. It was a streak I was anxious to put an end to ASAP.

  Another of those long-suffering sighs. “I’ll see what I can do. But if Raphael doesn’t want to come up, I won’t be able to make him. You know that.”

  “Tell him he’s coming up, or I’m not coming down.” If I hadn’t been pissed at Adam, too, I’d have felt bad for putting him in the middle. As it was, I hoped he was squirming. Not that I really thought I could make Adam uncomfortable.

  “Fine. I’ll tell him. We’ll see you tonight.” Adam hung up without saying good-bye, as usual. The only person who hung up on me more often than Adam was Raphael. Which was why I didn’t even bother trying to call him and let him know what I thought of him.

  I doubted Adam would have much trouble getting Raphael to come up to the apartment. Sometimes, I thought Raphael rather enjoyed locking horns with me, though only if he was winning. He might think he’d win tonight, but I had a fully charged Taser that said the odds were against him.

  I left the office after talking to Adam. I’d done as much paperwork as I could stomach, and I was distracted enough to screw up anything else I tried to work on. I wasn’t anxious to get back to my apartment, where anyone who wanted me would find me, but I couldn’t see myself strolling around the city on this hot, muggy day.

  When I got home, I had about three hours to kill before Adam and Raphael were due to arrive and make my day more … interesting. I thought I’d spend that time taking a nap, making up for some of the rest I’d lost thanks to Lugh’s visit. But once again, I’d forgotten Brian had a key—though in my defense, I would have expected him to be at work on a weekday afternoon. Apparently, he felt like he had better things to do today than earn a living, because I opened my apartment door to see him making himself at home in my living room.

  He was still wearing the conservative business suit he’d worn to work, but the jacket and tie lay draped over the love seat, and he’d rolled the sleeves of his shirt almost to his elbows. Suits and long-sleeved dress shirts just weren’t made for ninety-plus-degree weather, but it was a rare law firm indeed that didn’t make its employees wear them.

  Brian had also taken off his shoes and socks, propping his bare feet on my coffee table. I don’t actually eat on the coffee table, so I don’t know why I object to people putting their feet on it. But I do, and Brian knew that. I frowned at him.

  “You’ve been hanging out with Raphael and Adam too long,” I said, though Brian didn’t exactly “hang out” with them. “You used to have better manners.”

  Okay, so it was a rude way to greet my boyfriend, and the love of my life, but in the mood I was in, it was the best I could do.

  Brian shook his head, but he sat up straight and put his feet on the floor, where they belonged. “Is that all you have to say to me?” he asked, and he sounded terribly disappointed in me.

  This was so not what I needed right now. “I didn’t give you a key to my apartment so you could barge in here and yell at me whenever you felt like it.” I dropped my purse on the side table a little more forcefully than was necessary.

  He gave me a look of pure innocence. “You consider this to be ‘yelling’ at you?” His voice, naturally, hadn’t risen an iota.

  I pried off my sandals, leaving them by the door, but instead of going to the living room with Brian, I headed for the kitchen. My apartment was small enough, and had an open enough floor plan, that it was still possible to have a conversation. Unfortunately.

  “I’m assuming the yelling’s going to come later,” I said over my shoulder. It was too hot for coffee, but that didn’t stop me from beginning the brewing ritual.

  I heard Brian rise from the sofa and pad toward me, but I didn’t turn to look at him, my full attention on trying to separate one filter from the stack. In my peripheral vision, I saw him lean against what would have been a doorjamb, if my kitchen actually had a door.

  “Why do you always assume the worst of me?” he asked. “I don’t know exactly what happened last night, but I know you too well to believe you were behind the murder. And even if I didn’t, I’m in no position to throw stones.”

  The anger I’d been trying to build up seeped away, and my shoulders sagged. For all my life, I’d used anger as a shield against all of life’s unpleasantness. Before I’d started dating Brian, it had never occurred to me to want to change that. Anger was—for me, at least—much easier to deal with than pain, or fear, or even confusion.

  I rubbed my suddenly gritty-feeling eyes and shoved the brew basket back into place in the coffeemaker. My self-defense instincts wanted me to grab the carafe and fill it at the sink, which would allow me to continue not looking at Brian. I fought those instincts off, slowly tu
rning toward him as I crossed my arms. I realized as soon as I’d done it that crossing my arms was another defensive gesture, but decided I was allowed.

  There was a shadow behind Brian’s eyes, one I couldn’t remember being there before. I knew what he was thinking about.

  There had been a demon, known as Der Jäger, who had had the unusual ability to recognize and hunt other demons on the Mortal Plain. Due to circumstances beyond my control, Der Jäger had learned that I was still hosting Lugh. Lugh and I had fought Der Jäger and won, but we couldn’t afford to let him go back to the Demon Realm and tell Dougal who was hosting Lugh. It wouldn’t have mattered who had been hosting Der Jäger; I still wouldn’t have been happy with the idea of roasting a human being alive to kill the demon. But Der Jäger had taken my father—at least, the man who had raised me, even though he turned out not to be my biological father—as his host. I’d never gotten along with dear old Dad, but there was no way I was ruthless enough to kill him.

  To make a long story short, Lugh had taken over, and Brian had helped him stage a fiery car accident for my father to die in. In Brian’s words, he’d had to choose between my father and me, and he’d chosen me. But no human being could make a decision like that without something inside them breaking, and Brian, with his Boy Scout ethics, was probably far more broken up about it than he’d ever let me see.

  But he was letting me see it now. Letting me see the shadow of horror that haunted him. It made my chest and throat tight with pain.

  Without thinking about it, I took the two steps I needed to close the distance between us and put my arms around him, pressing the side of my face against his chest. His arms wrapped around me, and he let out his breath in a long, shuddering sigh.

  There were no words that could soothe his pain-none that I knew of, at least—and there was a part of me that still kind of hated him for what he’d done. Not a rational part of me, mind you, but then emotions are rarely rational.

  “I didn’t know Raphael was going to kill Cooper,” I said into Brian’s chest. I knew I was avoiding the true issue here, but avoidance is one of my favorite things. “In retrospect, I think I should have. But I didn’t.”

  Brian’s arms tightened around me. “Things are always clear in retrospect.” His hands slid slowly up my back, then up my neck, until they were cupped around the sides of my head. He threaded his fingers through my hair. I used to wear it spiked with gel, but I’d been toning it down lately, for which I’m sure Brian was grateful.

  I tilted my chin upward and found his mouth coming to meet me halfway. His lips were a familiar warmth against mine and I opened my mouth for him. His tongue dipped in for a taste, and I made an incoherent little sound of pleasure.

  Lugh’s voice hummed in the back of my mind, reminding me he was there, feeling everything I felt, lusting after Brian just as I did. Reminding me also that an issue far more dangerous than Cooper’s death lay between us.

  Reluctantly, I pulled away from Brian’s kiss, though I kept my arms around his neck and my body pressed up against his. His eyes had darkened with desire. He licked the taste of me from his lips, and I had to suppress a groan. Brian could do amazing things with his tongue, and my hormones were screaming that now would be a good time for him to demonstrate. I tried to swallow the desire back down.

  “What about Lugh?” I whispered.

  The fire dimmed in Brian’s eyes, and he lowered his forehead until it rested against mine. “Couldn’t you just have gone with it?”

  I shook my head without breaking contact. “He won’t let me. Now that he’s brought the issue up, he’s not going to leave it alone until we both come to terms with it.”

  Brian let go of me, taking a step backward to put some space between us. That single step sent a stabbing pain through my chest. I’d worked so hard to hold on to Brian. If there were any justice in this world, my efforts would be rewarded for it. But justice is a rare and precious thing.

  Brian wasn’t making eye contact, but at least he wasn’t retreating any further.

  “Have you thought at all about what I suggested the other day?” he asked.

  “You mean about finding Lugh a new host?”

  He met my eyes now with a look of mild reproach. Of course that was what he meant—what else could he possibly be talking about? But for reasons I didn’t fully understand, I wanted him to verbalize it, so I met his reproach with pure stubbornness. Brian lost the staring contest.

  “Yes, about finding Lugh a new host,” he said.

  Images of last night’s dream with Lugh flashed through my mind. Heat rose in my cheeks, and I tried to force the images away. The last thing I wanted was to reinforce Brian’s jealousy, and he was too observant to miss the blush. And too smart not to understand what it meant. I did my best to divert him.

  “After you suggested it, Lugh stopped talking to me for a while,” I said, not sure telling this to Brian was the smartest move. “He made me realize how … comfortable I’ve gotten with having him inside me.” A lump formed in my throat, and I couldn’t for the life of me tell whether it was because I feared losing Lugh, or because I feared losing Brian. Maybe both.

  “You of all people know how isolated I’ve been,” I continued. “I used to like it that way, but now …” I shrugged, my shoulders tight with tension. “Now I’m not sure I can go back.”

  Brian reached out and grasped my shoulders, giving them a firm squeeze. “You don’t have to go back to being isolated,” he told me earnestly. “You’re learning how to open up and let other people into your life.”

  I shook my head, picking my words carefully. “I don’t think I can do it without him.” Brian opened his mouth to protest, but I put my fingers to his lips to silence him. He had no idea how much influence Lugh had had on me, how much Lugh had helped me repair the damage I’d done to our relationship.

  “Think of Lugh as a pair of training wheels,” I said. “With the training wheels on, I can ride like a big girl. But I’m not ready to go without them yet.”

  Brian took another step back from me and scowled. “You’re using him as another excuse to keep me from getting too close.”

  It used to be that Brian never got angry. Well, not never, but almost never. It used to drive me crazy when I argued with him. My voice would rise to somewhere in the vicinity of a sonic boom, my emotions boiling over, and Brian would respond calmly and logically. He was like a black hole for my anger, sucking it in and letting none escape. Being with me had changed him, hardened him. I hated that.

  “I’m not the one using Lugh as an excuse,” I said quietly. “Nothing’s changed for me since the last time we made love. You’re the one who’s looking at me differently.”

  The scowl deepened. “You really think nothing has changed? I asked you to consider finding a new host for Lugh, and now you’re telling me you don’t want to. Am I supposed to just take that in stride?”

  Jealousy flared in Brian’s eyes, and I didn’t know what to say. I couldn’t even tell him he had no reason to be jealous of Lugh, because that would be a lie.

  Brian’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, and I had to look away from the pain on his face. I hated seeing Brian hurt, but my first instinct was always to lash out. I’d gotten better at controlling that instinct lately, but my control wasn’t perfect.

  “I seem to remember a time when you got mad at me for assuming you’d be jealous,” I said, still not looking at him. “You said I didn’t give you enough credit. It’s beginning to look like I was right all along.”

  Brian made a sound of frustration. “That was when Lugh was coming on to you. I can’t be mad at you for what Lugh does. But this … this is all you.”

  My head flew up suddenly, and it wasn’t because I wanted to look at Brian again. In fact, what I really wanted to do was turn my back, just in case the tears that hovered behind my eyes decided to fall. But when I met Brian’s gaze, it wasn’t me looking out from my eyes, it was Lugh. And he was pissed.

&
nbsp; “I’m sorry if this makes you sick later,” he said, speaking to me, not Brian, “but I’ve heard enough.”

  “Huh?” Brian asked, frowning in puzzlement, because, of course, he didn’t realize yet what had happened.

  Lugh uncrossed my arms and took a decidedly aggressive step in Brian’s direction.

  What the fuck do you think you’re doing? I screamed at him, but he ignored me.

  “You selfish little bastard,” Lugh said through my mouth, glaring at Brian. “All this time you’ve hounded Morgan to open up to you, to trust you not to hurt her. Then the moment she says something you don’t like, you slam the emotional door in her face.”

  Some of the color left Brian’s face. I guess he was finally figuring out it wasn’t me who was speaking anymore. “Lugh?” he asked tentatively.

  Lugh didn’t bother to answer. “Have you given even a moment’s thought as to what you’re asking her to give up?” he asked, poking Brian in the breastbone hard enough to make Brian take a step back.

  “With me in residence, she has all the advantages of being a demon host. She will never get sick—

  except for these unexplained illnesses that happen with control changes. She can heal any injury short of a mortal wound, and even some of them. If anyone ever attacks her, I can protect her. And I can help her cope with some of the horrors she’s faced. Someone else who’s been through everything she’s been through might suffer from posttraumatic stress for the rest of her life, but because of me, Morgan won’t. All this she gains, without having to give up control of her body and her life. And you think she should throw it all away just because I make you uncomfortable?”

  Brian was rarely at a loss for words—something of a survival trait for lawyers—but he was struck speechless now. He stood there in the kitchen doorway, gaping at Lugh and absently rubbing the spot on his chest that Lugh had poked. I wondered if it would leave a bruise.

  But Brian wasn’t speechless for long. I could see him pulling the shreds of his composure back together. His shoulders straightened and his chin rose, the lines in his jaw showing how tightly his teeth were clenched. He leaned ever so slightly forward, into Lugh’s personal space, and if it were anyone but Brian, I would have suspected he was seriously considering throwing a punch.