The Devil's Playground

by Jenna Black

  “Exactly. It’s not like it would completely stop demons from getting to the Mortal Plain—it never has before—but it would make it a hell of a lot harder for them to get here.”

  “And a hell of a lot less fun,” Adam contributed. “If we came to the Mortal Plain and then had to stay in hiding …” He shook his head. “I’ve gone that route before, as I suspect most of us have, since possession was illegal much longer than it’s been legal. I enjoyed myself enough to want to come back, but now that I’ve seen what it’s like to be out in the open, I don’t know if I could go back to the way it was.”

  “But we’re not actually going to do it, right?” Raphael asked, fixing me with a piercing look. Once again, I was pretty sure the look was directed at Lugh. “We’re just going to threaten to do it if Dougal doesn’t come to the Mortal Plain and fight like a man, as it were. Right?”

  We’ll try a threat first, Lugh said. But I suspect Dougal will think we’re bluffing. If we make the threat and aren’t willing to back it up, we have gained ourselves nothing.

  I relayed Lugh’s message. It might have been easier to just let him take control and do his own talking, but it hadn’t been all that long since he’d last been in control, and I wasn’t sure how my body would react to another control shift. I preferred not to find out.

  Raphael looked very unhappy. He might not have wanted what Dougal wanted badly enough to kill Lugh, but he did still want it.

  “We don’t have to give away everything,” Raphael said, and his voice sounded a lot calmer than his face looked. “We can reveal something humans won’t like but that won’t get us outlawed. That might convince Dougal we mean what we say.” He looked at me, and this time he was really looking at me, not Lugh. “You’ve been a demon-hater all your life. Which of our secrets would piss you off but not make you want us all to be outlawed?”

  They were all looking at me now, and I didn’t much appreciate the scrutiny. Raphael made me sound like some kind of bigot when he called me a “demon-hater,” and that was certainly not the way I’d ever seen myself. And yet …

  Before Lugh had come into my life, I had made no bones about my dislike of demons. If I knew someone was possessed, I disliked him or her on the spot, and no number of good deeds would make me let go of that dislike. It wasn’t like I’d marched on the streets of Washington shouting “down with demons,” but if you’d pressed me, I would have admitted I thought demonic possession should be outlawed again.

  I didn’t feel that way anymore, which was in a way kind of strange considering everything I’d learned and everything I’d been through. Demons had been the authors of all my worst troubles, and I’d dealt with the darkest, the most dangerous, the most evil of them. But I’d also dealt with Lugh, who could annoy the shit out of me at times, but who was so good and honorable that I couldn’t really think ill of him even when I was pissed off at him. And I’d come to know Adam, who was far from one of the nicest people I’d ever met, but who was a hero in every sense of the word, and whose love for Dominic had shown me that demons really were capable of the same depth of emotion as humans.

  Demons were people to me now, not inscrutable aliens. And I had no grounds to argue Raphael’s assessment, even if I didn’t hate them anymore. I knew what it was like to hate them and to want them gone.

  “If we told people that demons don’t die when they’re exorcized,” I said softly, “that would make a lot of people very unhappy.”

  There was a moment of shocked silence, but it didn’t last long. Saul, Adam, and Raphael all started to protest at once, but Raphael’s voice was loudest, and the other two reluctantly ceded the field to him.

  “They wouldn’t be just ‘unhappy’!” he snarled. “That’s the one secret that could very well fuel the effort to outlaw us again!”

  “No,” I said, very calmly, “the one secret that would be sure to get you outlawed is the eugenics program you and Dougal ran for the last several centuries.”

  Raphael actually paled at my words, and all the starch went out of his spine as his fellow demons turned to glare at him. I almost felt sorry for him. But not quite.

  “If the human population finds out that exorcism doesn’t kill you,” I continued, “then I can guarantee there will be some changes in the law. Maybe more states will go the execution route, but since it’s killing the human host that made them balk before, they may well still balk even if they know the truth. Exorcism may not be the Old Testament eye-for-an-eye-type punishment that people think it is, but it gets the offending demon off the Mortal Plain and leaves the host alive, at least usually. Knowing the truth will give the anti-demon hate groups and the anti-demon lobby more power and fuel, but I doubt it would be enough to make you all illegal. Demons have made themselves too useful for us to get rid of you that easily. It would take something really heinous to destroy you all in the court of public opinion.”

  Raphael sank down lower in his chair. His head hung low, and he stared at his hands. “But we’d only tell people that as the absolute last resort, right? If Dougal doesn’t take us seriously and come to the Mortal Plain?”

  “Right,” I agreed, trying not to think about what it would be like if we revealed to the general public that Dougal and Raphael had captured, bred, and destroyed human beings like experimental rats. I suspected outlawing them would be the least of their troubles. Those demons already on the Mortal Plain would be targeted by every hate group in the country, even though the vast majority of them had nothing to do with Dougal and Raphael’s project. There would be murders, and riots, and general mayhem. I didn’t want to see it happen any more than Raphael did.

  But it looked like Dougal was vulnerable now, so now was the time to strike, before he found some way to solidify his power base. And before he funneled too many more of his supporters—disgruntled or otherwise—onto the Mortal Plain.

  “Does Lugh support this plan?” Adam asked.

  I heard Lugh’s sigh in my head and sensed, rather than heard, his agreement. I nodded.

  Adam squared his shoulders. “I would be the obvious spokesperson for us,” he said. “Aside from the fact that Dougal already knows I’m in Lugh’s camp, I also have access to the press through my job. I’ll set up a press conference.”

  “But not right away,” Raphael said. There was still a haunted look in his eyes, but even in the depths of turmoil, Raphael was still Raphael, full of cunning. “Wait until Monday. Then we can send William back to the Demon Realm with a message for Dougal that if he doesn’t make an appearance before Monday, we’ll have a press conference. I suggest we not say that Adam will be giving it, or Adam might not live until Monday.”

  “Dougal’s going to call our bluff,” Saul said, and for once, he wasn’t sneering at his father, just stating a fact.

  “The press conference will have to happen before he’ll believe we really mean to do it.”

  Raphael examined his hands as he spoke. “I know. But we have to at least try.”

  And so, our path was set.

  twenty-one

  THERE WASN’T A WHOLE LOT OF CHATTER BETWEEN us as Brian, Andy, and I returned to my apartment. What was there to say, after all? William was once again back in the Demon Realm, delivering our ultimatum to Dougal, and we wouldn’t know how that ultimatum was received until Monday morning, when once again we would summon him back to the Mortal Plain. I didn’t envy Adam, Dom, and Raphael having to play nursemaid to Jonathan and his withdrawal again, but better them than me.

  We were all exhausted by the time we got back to the apartment at about three in the morning. Andy made a beeline for the guest bedroom. I’m not sure he even bothered to get undressed or brush his teeth before he collapsed into the bed and started snoring loud enough that Brian and I could hear him in the next room.

  We did bother to get undressed, and when I cuddled up in Brian’s arms, my back to his chest, I felt the evidence that he wasn’t quite as tired as I’d thought. His hand trailed idly between my breasts and do
wn my belly, making me shiver, though it wasn’t cold. He touched his lips to that deliciously sensitive place where my neck meets my shoulder, and I decided that I wasn’t as tired as I’d thought, either.

  He kissed his way up toward my earlobe, which he sucked lightly, making my back arch in pleasure.

  “I could get used to having you in my bed every night,” Brian whispered in my ear as his hand moved up to cup my breast.

  I thought about objecting to his not-so-subtle hint that he wanted to live together, but the truth was, I was beginning to think I could get used to it, too. Still, I was far from ready to admit it.

  “Need I remind you that you’re in my bed?” I teased.

  He laughed against my skin, his breath warm and mint-scented from his toothpaste. I was guessing I didn’t need to admit anything; Brian knew what my lack of protest meant. He pressed his erection into the crease between my buttocks, and I suppressed a moan at how hard and hot he felt against my skin. Andy’s snores reassured me that he couldn’t hear us, but Brian and I have been known to be rather loud, and I thought I might perish of embarrassment if we managed to wake Andy up.

  Brian drew himself slowly downward, and I parted my legs to make room for him between them. I expected this to be more foreplay—Brian does love to tease unmercifully—but apparently tonight he was impatient for the main event to begin.

  Usually, I don’t like being taken from behind. There’s something that feels too submissive about it. But I was beginning to think Brian could make me like just about anything—with the possible exception of Brussels sprouts. Instead of trying to turn over as I might have in the past, I simply relaxed into Brian’s embrace and tried not to moan too loudly as he slowly slipped inside me.

  Next door, Andy’s snores stopped. That didn’t necessarily mean he was awake, but still …

  Brian’s lips brushed my ear. “Be vewy, vewy quiet,” he whispered, and I had to bite my tongue to keep from laughing. Then he thrust all the way in, and laughing was the last thing on my mind.

  It was oddly exciting, trying to keep quiet during some fantastic sex. It was also surprisingly hard to manage. Even Brian, usually a master of control, struggled with it, little whimpers escaping his throat despite his best efforts. But by the time we both reached our climaxes, Andy was snoring again in the next room. Yay, us!

  The exhaustion I’d been feeling when we first went to bed hit me like a brick wall when the adrenaline rush faded, and, with Brian’s arms still cuddling me to his chest, I drifted off to sleep.

  Sunday was hell. I’m a woman of action, and I hate waiting around. Unfortunately, there was a lot of it to be done. We couldn’t make a move until we’d heard back from William, so as much as I wanted to leap into action, that just wasn’t possible.

  Because we were still on high alert in case William betrayed us, we were all still on the buddy system. Which meant that not only was Brian constantly at my side, but Andy was, too. We’d been pretty close as children—at least until the Spirit Society got its hooks into him—but things were almost unbearably awkward between us now. I kept thinking I should apologize for my harsh words of the other night, but I had the suspicion my attempted apology would lead to more harsh words, so I kept my mouth shut.

  We were all up at the crack of dawn on Monday. Both Brian and Adam were due at their jobs today. Brian had missed enough time lately to make his boss grumpy, and since he did still care about his career, even in the midst of this crisis, he refused to stay home. Adam, as a public servant, had even less flexibility. So to accommodate their schedules, we’d decided to hold the summoning early in the morning.

  Early in the morning is never my best time, even with Dom’s extra-strong Italian roast coffee doing its best to jump-start my brain. I was glad to see I wasn’t the only one yawning when we all sat in the basement of Adam and Dom’s house with only the dim light of the candles illuminating the dark.

  Jonathan was a total mess, his cheeks hollow, his eyes bloodshot and shadowed with dark circles. His hands shook, and sometimes we had to repeat ourselves to get him to even hear us. And even though he’d just learned the incantation to summon William a couple of days ago, it was as if he’d never heard it before. If it had taken him twenty tries to get it right at the first summoning, it must have taken him at least thirty this time. I hoped he’d have a few brain cells left to rub together if we ended up having to use William as our messenger to the Demon Realm again.

  I’d expected the situation to improve when William was back with us. It didn’t.

  As soon as Jonathan’s mind slid into the background and William took over, he started to scream. His arms and legs flailed, his back arched, and the screams rose from his throat one right after another, to the point where I wondered how he had enough air in his lungs to keep it up.

  Raphael and Adam put down their candles to try to restrain the frantic demon, but he was fighting so hard Saul had to jump in and help them. Raphael, practically kneeling on William’s chest like a rodeo star on a bucking bronco, kept repeating his name over and over, but there was no sign that William heard him.

  Finally, Raphael slapped William across the face. The first slap was light, and William seemed not to feel it. The next slap was hard enough to make me wince, and I hoped he hadn’t just broken William’s jaw. But, to my immense relief, William stopped screaming.

  He was conscious. You could tell that by how hard he was breathing and by how desperately he squinched his eyes shut. But it was hard to tell if he was in his right mind or not. Adam continued sitting on his legs, and Saul kept hold of his wrists, although William didn’t seem to be fighting anymore.

  Keeping a careful watch on him, Raphael slid off William’s chest and rested a soothing hand on his sweaty forehead. He then traced his fingers gently over William’s cheek, where a bruise was forming.

  “I’m sorry I hurt you,” Raphael said softly as he once again transformed himself into Lugh. “I could find no other way to calm you.”

  William dragged in a painful-sounding breath. Both Adam and Saul tensed, anticipating another fight, but William merely opened his eyes. He looked up into Raphael’s face.

  “Lugh?” he asked, his voice scratchy from all the screaming.

  Raphael nodded, and William proceeded to burst into tears.

  “You can let go now,” Raphael said to Adam and Saul. Adam let go immediately, but of course, Saul didn’t. Not, I suspect, because he thought William might pitch another fit, but because he didn’t want to do what his father told him to do.

  When Saul finally let him go, William turned over on his side and curled into a fetal position, sobbing. Raphael murmured soothing sounds and stroked his hair, comforting him as you would a small child.

  “What the hell happened to him?” I found myself whispering, though I hadn’t meant to say it out loud.

  Raphael shook his head in what looked like disgust. “I have a feeling Dougal did, indeed, try to kill the messenger.”

  William drew in a loud, shuddering breath. “He tried,” he managed to gasp between sobs. “I’d have let him win if I could, just to make it stop.” He started to push himself up into a sitting position, but his whole body was shaking. I think he would have collapsed back into a heap if Raphael hadn’t reached out and supported him.

  William closed his eyes again, fists clenched at his sides. “He wouldn’t let up. Even when he knew he couldn’t kill me, he kept trying.”

  Lugh had explained to me once that it was impossible for demons to kill one another in the Demon Realm unless there was a significant disparity in power between them. I guess William, being a royal cousin, was too strong for Dougal to destroy. But it sounded like the attempt had been something akin to torture.

  “I suppose that means we’re getting to him,” Raphael said. If he’d been speaking like himself, he probably would have sounded dryly amused—like I’ve said before, he’s not the soul of compassion—but in Lugh mode, he sounded grave and almost sorrowful.

>   William laughed—an awful, dry, not entirely sane laugh that I feared might turn into another crying jag. “Oh, you’re getting to him all right. I’ve never seen him so enraged before.”

  “And does he plan to come to the Mortal Plain to stop me from announcing the truth about exorcism?”

  I don’t think any of us were surprised when William shook his head. “He says you’re bluffing. He says you’d never endanger the lives of all the demons now on the Mortal Plain by admitting something that would encourage humans to execute them rather than exorcize them.”

  Raphael heaved a sigh and looked grim. “Apparently, he doesn’t know me as well as he thinks he does.” He looked over at Adam. “Call the press conference for this afternoon.”

  “This ought to be interesting,” I heard Saul mutter under his breath.

  Adam merely nodded to acknowledge his orders. I had a feeling there were many words that could be used to describe the upcoming press conference. “Interesting” didn’t even begin to cover it.

  twenty-two

  THE PRESS CONFERENCE STARTED AT A LITTLE AFTER three that afternoon. I doubt that Adam gave the reporters much of a preview, but they obviously knew he was going to say something very important, because they interrupted the local programming to televise it. For all I knew, they interrupted national programming as well. After all, it was quite a bombshell he was about to drop.

  Andy and I watched in my living room. The tension was getting to both of us, and we hadn’t spoken a word to each other in about three hours. Probably just as well. Tension makes some people act like asses, and I’m one of them. If we both kept our mouths shut, I would have much less chance of sticking my foot in mine.

  Adam looks great on TV. I’d seen him give a press conference before, but this time I was struck again by his masculine good looks and by his aura of quiet confidence. He was dressed in a dark suit with a conservative striped tie, his bad-boy qualities completely buried beneath a layer of respectability. It was a side of Adam I rarely saw, and it made it easier to see how he’d risen to such an exalted rank within the Philly PD.