The Devil's Playground

  The phone calls started coming in shortly after I stepped in the door. First was Barbie.

  “Have you watched the news at all today?” she asked cautiously, without even bothering to say hello.

  So much for coming to my office to escape. I should have left my cell phone at home. Or at least not answered it.

  “The news about Cooper, you mean?” I asked, and my voice sounded tired to my own ears.

  Barbie hesitated a long time. “Where are you?” she asked. “I think we need to talk, and I’d rather not do it on a cell phone.”

  She had a point about the cell phone, but I didn’t want to get together and talk about it in person, either. In fact, I didn’t want to talk about it at all.

  “We’ll talk later,” I told her. “I’m … not up to it right now, okay?”

  Another long silence. “Just tell me one thing.”

  I should have known better than to hope Barbie would let it go. She was kind of like me that way. “Maybe,” I said, drawing the word out a bit, not trying to hide my discomfort.

  “Saul has a theory. Do you think he’s right?”

  The question almost made me smile. Barbie was really good at being cagey. Even if somehow signals got crossed and someone was overhearing our conversation, they would never in a million years guess what Barbie was asking me.

  If Saul had a theory, it had to be that Raphael had something to do with Cooper’s death. Saul was even quicker to think ill of Raphael than I was.

  “Can you keep him from doing a Godzilla impersonation if I say he’s right?”

  “Damn,” she said, and she sounded as tired as I felt. “That’ll be tough to pull off. He’s already pretty testy, if you know what I mean.”

  I grimaced. Yeah, I did. I doubted he was happy with any of us for letting Barbie get hurt, and for making her wait so long to take care of her injury. Not that we’d actually made her wait—she’d never have voluntarily left Cooper’s house when there was still a lot of shit left to hit the fan—but Saul wouldn’t see it that way.

  “You’re the one who decided you wanted to date Bad Tempers ‘R’ Us,” I said, trying to sound funny. I think it came out more sour than funny. “Don’t let him do anything stupid.” What I expected petite little Barbie to do if the demon Saul decided he wanted to have a knockdown-drag-out with Daddy was beyond me. I just knew I didn’t want any part of it.

  She sighed. “I’ll do my best.”

  A male voice—Saul, no doubt—spoke in the background. Barbie must have put her hand over the receiver, because I couldn’t make out the words.

  “I’ve got to go,” she said when she came back on, her voice tight with tension.

  My conscience twinged a bit at leaving her to deal with Saul’s temper on her own, but since she’d volunteered for the job, I tried not to let it bother me.

  “You gonna be all right?” I asked. So much for not letting it bother me.

  She laughed a bit nervously. “I’ll be fine. It’s Saul’s security deposit I’m worried about.”

  As if to punctuate that point, there was a loud crash in the background.

  “I’ve got to go,” she said again, and this time she hung up without waiting for an answer.

  fourteen

  AFTER BARBIE, THERE WAS BRIAN. THIS TIME, I CHOSE not to answer. I didn’t want to talk to him about Cooper’s murder. Once upon a time, I’d have expected moral outrage from him. Now I wasn’t so sure. Would it bother me more if Brian was pissed at me for whatever role I may or may not have played in Cooper’s death, or if he took the demons’ side and agreed it was necessary? I didn’t know, and I didn’t want to find out until I absolutely had to.

  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 tal
king 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 turning 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 abo
ut? 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.