by Jenna Black
Unbelievable! I’d always thought of Andy as their favored son. I’d known it was because he’d agreed to host a demon, but I didn’t realize until this moment how little regard they actually had for him as a real person.
“Let’s not argue, okay?” Andy said weakly. “I don’t have the strength for it.”
I immediately felt like shit. Yeah, I thought my mom was a callous bitch, but surely I had enough self-control to keep my opinion to myself for a few minutes while he and my parents got reacquainted.
“Sorry,” I mumbled. I was apologizing to Andy, but my parents seemed to think the apology encompassed them as well, and I saw no reason to disillusion them. My dad turned away without a word, and my mom had never looked my way in the first place.
“Of course we’re very glad to see you recovered,” my mom assured Andy. “I can’t imagine what these last few weeks must have been like for you.” She sniffled daintily, and Andy forced another smile.
“It’s been rough,” he admitted, “but that’s over.”
My mom finally let go of his hand and pulled up a chair, my dad standing behind her like some kind of bodyguard. Surely he was feeling something—other than his distaste for me, that is—but you wouldn’t know it by looking at him. He’s one of those super-uptight men who thinks showing emotion is girly. I doubt a tear had dared leak from his eye since well before puberty.
Leaning forward slightly in her chair with her earnestness, my mom asked, “So tell us what happened.”
Once again, Andy and I shared a look, but this time I managed to bite my tongue and let him talk. He shook his head and met my mother’s gaze.
“I’m really sorry, Mom, but I’m afraid you already know the truth. My demon went rogue, and there was nothing I could do to stop him.” He shuddered visibly, and my mom sat back in her chair looking dumbstruck.
“How can that be?” she whispered, eyes wide and incredulous.
Andy shrugged. “Not all demons are the same. I just happened to draw one of the bad ones.”
My mom didn’t say anything, but anyone with half a brain could see she wasn’t convinced. I really don’t get her. She has to know that there are bad demons out there. Even with the thickest, rosiest-colored glasses imaginable, she had to have seen reports of rogues (demons who commit violent crimes) and illegals (demons who possess unwilling hosts). Why was it so impossible for her to imagine Andy getting saddled with one?
“Well,” my dad said with false cheer, “even if that’s the case, I’m sure things will go better next time.”
My jaw dropped open, and I felt like I’d been punched in the gut.
I should have known my parents would want him to host again. Hell, they’d probably wished they could summon another demon to take him over while he was catatonic. However, even though he’d signed the consent forms the first time around, he’d have to do it all over again if he wanted to host another demon.
I’d just gotten my brother back after a ten-year absence. I didn’t want to lose him again!
Then an insidious thought wormed its way into my mind. If Andy was going to host another demon, why shouldn’t that demon be Lugh? My heart tripped over itself. Andy had always wanted to be a hero, and I never had. It would be perfect! I’d get rid of Lugh and go back to as normal a life as I’d ever had. And Andy would get to be the hero who saved the world.
But before I got too excited about the idea, I saw the ghastly white color of my brother’s skin, saw the horror in his eyes, and knew that my faint hope was already dead.
Still pale, his hands gripping the arms of the wheelchair, Andy shook his head. “There won’t be a next time,” he declared, his voice slightly wobbly. “Once was enough for me.”
My mother put a hand to her breastbone in shock, and my dad was momentarily rendered speechless. He recovered quickly.
“That was insensitive of me,” my dad said, and I swallowed a laugh. “I’m sorry, son. I didn’t mean to rush you. The first thing you have to do is get your strength back. We can talk about your future later.”
Once again, my brother shook his head. “We can talk about my future, but I’m telling you now, that future won’t involve becoming a host again. I know you think I’m traumatized and will change my mind when I get better, but don’t get your hopes up.”
My dad looked like he had something else to say to that, but my mom beat him to it, leaning forward and putting her hand on Andy’s shoulder.
“Of course not, dear,” she said. “You know we’ll support you one hundred percent, no matter what you choose to do.”
I had to swallow bitter laughter. And ugly though it might be, I couldn’t suppress the surge of jealousy. Of course they’d support him no matter what. It was only me that they left hanging out to dry if I didn’t do exactly what they wanted me to.
But given what I now knew about my origins, could I really blame them?
I smiled grimly to myself. You bet your ass I could. I’d been doing it all my life. Why should I stop now?
Chapter 3
The doctor on call wanted Andy to stay at the hospital at least one more night for observation. My parents were disappointed, but far be it from them to argue with the doctor. Not when he was another Spirit Society member whom they obviously respected.
I left them to get reacquainted with their real son. I would call Andy when he was out of the hospital and my parents were nowhere to be found. Then he and I could talk some more.
It was nearing dinnertime when I stepped out of the elevator into the hospital’s lobby. My stomach was growling at me for skipping lunch, but when I considered my various options for dinner, none of them seemed terribly appealing.
All thoughts of food fled my mind when I saw Adam standing at the information desk.
Being gorgeous was something of a job requirement for a demon host, and Adam was no exception. He was a little shorter than Dominic, though his swagger always made him look like the biggest guy in the room. If Dominic was tall, dark, and handsome, Adam was tall, dark, and dangerous. No matter how much I didn’t like him, I couldn’t say I minded the view. Now if I could only put up a wall of bars between us and duct-tape his mouth shut, I might almost be happy to see him.
As it was, the sight of him made a hard day even worse. I scowled at him as he grinned and met me halfway to the exit. I had managed to avoid him ever since the night he shot my brother, but apparently my lucky streak was at its end.
“What are you doing here?” I growled, my hand itching for the Taser I didn’t dare draw. “You sure as hell better not be following me!”
He gave me a look of mock innocence. “Who, moi?”
At my savage expression, Adam dropped the phony innocence and shook his head. “Actually, the fact that you’re here, too, is merely a happy coincidence.”
I snorted and headed for the door, not at all surprised when he fell into step beside me.
“I heard the news about your brother,” he said. “I’m glad he’s doing better.”
“No thanks to you,” I muttered, then wished I’d kept the thought to myself. This wasn’t a conversation I was anxious to have with Adam. I glanced at my watch. “It’s been less than an hour. You must have a damn good informant.”
It figured Adam would have someone keeping an eye on Andy. If my brother had blown our cover story, Adam would have been in the worst trouble of us all.
He shrugged benignly. “It was in all our best interests to know if and when he snapped out of it, and I couldn’t count on you conveniently being by his side when he did.” He held the door for me like a gentleman, and protesting would have been more trouble than it was worth. I stepped out onto the sidewalk just as a bus was pulling away from the stop in a cloud of exhaust fumes, reminding me why I’d always preferred living in the suburbs.
Before I had a chance to start walking toward my apartment, Adam took hold of my arm and steered me in the opposite direction. Naturally, I tried to jerk my arm out of his grip, but he didn’t let go.
>
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“It’s time for you and me to have a talk,” he said, still gripping my arm.
Now I did reach for my Taser, though it was an awkward reach with Adam holding my right arm. He noticed what I was trying to do and rolled his eyes.
“Don’t assault a police officer, love. You could get in trouble for it.”
True, but I was still mighty tempted. “Let go of my arm.”
To my surprise, he did. “Better?” he asked, turning to face me.
It was still rush hour, and the tide of pedestrians wasn’t happy that the two of us had stopped. They walked around us, but I was aware of the dirty looks cast our way as we disrupted the flow of traffic.
I didn’t answer him, but I started walking in the same direction he’d been leading me. “So, where are we going?”
“How about to my car? I believe Dom said he was cooking chicken cacciatore tonight. I’m sure there’ll be enough for three.”
I hated my traitorous stomach for growling the way it did, but I knew from personal experience that Dominic was a fantastic cook, and I couldn’t help but be tempted. Until I thought about hanging around with Adam and Dom together. I have no problems with gay people—I have a lot of prejudices, but that isn’t one of them. What I do have trouble with is public displays of affection, and I swear Adam loves nothing more than making me squirm. Dom’s a little more modest, but not so modest that he ever refuses Adam’s advances. They’d probably be all over each other the moment the door closed.
“Thanks, but no thanks,” I said, hoping I wasn’t blushing at the mental images that came to mind, trying to pretend that it was their making out itself that made me uncomfortable around them, rather than my own involuntary reactions to it. Because, you see, no matter how uncomfortable they made me, they were both seriously sexy guys, and seeing them together never failed to arouse me, and to create fantasies in my mind that I’d rather not acknowledge. That was the last thing I needed right now, with my hormones already bitching at me for being celibate since I’d broken up with Brian.
For once, Adam resisted the urge to tease. “It’s important for us to talk. I promise Dominic and I will be on our best behavior.”
I flashed him a sardonic grin. “And with you that means what? You’ll keep your clothes on while you paw each other?”
He laughed. “We do have some self-control, love. I think we can avoid the temptation to make you blush for one evening, no matter how much fun it is.”
I gritted my teeth against a retort. Both Adam and Brian got quite a kick out of making me blush. With Brian, it was because he found it funny that a tough broad who wears a total of seven earrings and has a tattoo on her lower back blushes like a schoolgirl at sexual innuendo. Adam just does it because he knows it pisses me off.
“Why should I trust you?” I asked instead.
“Because whatever you might think of me, I’ve never done anything to betray your trust.”
He didn’t say “unlike you,” but we both knew that’s what he was thinking. Admittedly, I had called the police on him and accused him of murder. But then again, he had actually murdered someone—my former best friend, Val, who’d turned out to be part of the conspiracy to kill me. With a little time and emotional distance, I had to admit to myself that he hadn’t had much choice at the time. But I would never admit that to him.
I once again annoyed the harried pedestrians by bringing us both to a stop. I looked up into Adam’s eyes and tried to decide whether I was up to dealing with him and Dom tonight.
“If I say no, will you actually let me go, or am I going to find myself in handcuffs?” I finally asked.
He didn’t give me the evil grin I was expecting. “You’ll have to talk to us eventually,” he said. “You know that as well as I. But no, I won’t drag you along by force. Not tonight, anyway.”
Maybe I was being a pushover, but I believed him. And because I believed I had free will, I found myself able to agree.
“All right,” I said. “I’ll come with you on one condition.” He raised an eyebrow and waited. “Let me enjoy Dom’s cooking in peace. We can talk business after dinner. Deal?”
He smiled. “Deal.”
Adam has more money than I can explain for a government employee. His house is huge, by Center City standards, and doesn’t share walls with the houses around it. Which is a good thing, considering just what his neighbors might hear if they were too close.
The scent of garlic and peppers and Italian spices hit me as soon as I stepped through the doorway, and I took a deep, appreciative breath. My mouth started watering immediately, and I almost forgot the distasteful price of admittance.
Dominic was in the kitchen, naturally. I saw the kitchen table was set for three, and I gave Adam a dirty look.
“You were that sure I’d come, huh?”
He grinned. “Only an idiot would pass up the chance to eat Dom’s chicken cacciatore.”
At the stove, Dominic chuckled. He was modest by nature, but I knew how much he appreciated the praise.
“It’s almost ready,” Dominic said over his shoulder. “Want to pour the wine, Adam?”
“None for me, thanks,” I said, holding up my hands. I’ve never been able to figure out the appeal of fermented grapes.
Adam poured for himself and Dom, then pulled out a chair for me. I gave him another dirty look—I was good at those. He shrugged and took his own seat. When Dom brought the food to the table, I followed like a dog desperate for table scraps.
I should have known Adam wouldn’t honor our agreement to wait until after dinner to talk shop. Unpleasant conversations never seemed to sully his appetite, unlike mine.
“I presume Andrew isn’t contradicting our story, or you would be in a more agitated frame of mind,” he said.
I stuffed my mouth with chicken so I didn’t have to answer right away. And I took my time chewing, too. I probably should have kept right on eating. He couldn’t force me to talk when I wasn’t ready. But then, maybe I’d find talking to him easier with Dominic’s cacciatore to help it go down.
“He knows how important it is to keep the truth to himself,” I said when I finally swallowed.
“Good.” Adam shared a look with Dominic. One of those looks that suggested they knew something I didn’t.
“How much did you get to talk to him?”
I narrowed my eyes. “Why don’t you come right out and ask me what you want to know instead of beating around the bush?”
He shrugged. “Okay. I was wondering how much he knows about what Raphael learned during their years together.”
That thought didn’t exactly bring a smile to my face. It hadn’t even occurred to me to ask, but of course there were many questions we had for Raphael—questions he hadn’t been willing to answer. Odds were, he’d kept Andy from learning anything he didn’t want him to know—a demon could prevent its host from seeing or hearing when it wanted to. But then Raphael had expected to be in Andy until Andy died, so perhaps he’d been careless. Of course, Andy hadn’t volunteered any information.
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “Things were kind of awkward and emotional.” Especially once my parents made their appearance. “We didn’t really talk much about what happened.”
Adam and Dom shared another one of those looks, and I had to grit my teeth to resist the smart-ass comment I wanted to make. It was never a good idea to let Adam know when he was getting to me.
“It’s occurred to me that we aren’t the only ones who might suspect Andrew knows more than he should,” Adam said.
The delicious chicken turned into a lump of lead in my stomach. “You think he’s in danger?”
Adam shrugged. “Maybe. It’s hard to know. We have every reason to believe that we’ve wiped out the cell that Raphael had infiltrated. If that’s the case, then there’s no one who knows just what a VIP Andrew was hosting. And what that VIP might have wanted to keep secret.”
My stomach
cramped again. “Except Raphael.”
Raphael had returned to the Demon Realm when he’d fled my brother’s body, but he’d intended to find another host and return to infiltrate another cell of Dougal’s revolutionary army. While Raphael was on Lugh’s side, and therefore technically one of the good guys, I didn’t exactly trust him. He wasn’t what you’d call a nice guy, and I somehow doubted he and I shared the same moral code. He’d also made it clear that he knew more than he’d been willing to have me hear, and when Lugh refused to block me out, Raphael had clammed up.
Adam nodded. “Exactly. You might want to ask Lugh tonight what he thinks the chances are that Raphael will come after Andrew.”
I didn’t need to wait until night, because at that moment pain stabbed through my head, a nasty ice-pick-in-the-eye sensation that—so far—was the only way Lugh could communicate with me while I was conscious. Before I even had a chance to wince, the pain was gone.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” I mumbled, and Adam gave me an inquiring look. “Lugh can give me a headache when I’m awake,” I explained. “He just did it, so I’m guessing that means he thinks Andy could be in danger.” I frowned, realizing once again how little I, as a supposed demon expert, really knew about demons. They were incredibly secretive by nature, which is one of the reasons I’ve always distrusted them.
I knew demons were summoned to the Mortal Plain via a ceremony where the potential host spoke a kind of incantation. I also knew that if you learned a demon’s True Name, you could summon it specifically. But I had no idea how the demons determined who would answer a generic summons, assuming it was more than just random luck of the draw.
“How would Raphael go about finding a new host?” I asked, and as I did, I also realized how thoroughly I’d tried to shut out the realities of my new life in the last several weeks. There were so many questions I should have asked before now, but in my desperate quest for denial, I’d suppressed them all. “And do you think he’s already back in the Mortal Plain?”
Adam shifted uncomfortably and stared at the tabletop. “I can’t answer that,” he said. “Not without Lugh’s permission.”
