The Devil Inside

  I forced myself not to look as I hurried to the bathroom and turned the shower on as hot as I could stand. The water sluiced over my back and trickled down the drain, tinged with red. I fought another shudder and grabbed the soap, scrubbing frantically.

  In reality, there wasn’t that much blood. Adam must have cleaned me up when he brought me back to my room. I wasn’t sure how I felt about him leaving me in the bloody clothes. On the one hand, it showed an admirable respect for my modesty, and I knew I’d have been pissed at him if he’d undressed me. On the other hand, it seemed a cruel reminder.

  I didn’t turn off the shower until the hot water started running out. Even then, I felt…unclean.

  There had been nothing sexual about what Adam had done to me. Oh, he’d been aroused, but he’d made it crystal clear that had nothing to do with me.

  So why did I feel violated?

  I stood dripping in the shower, my forehead resting against the cool tile, trying to pull the scattered remnants of my sanity back together.

  A knock on the bathroom door startled a shriek out of me.

  “Morgan?” Adam asked. “Are you all right in there? The shower stopped running twenty minutes ago.”

  God, had I been standing here in a daze that long?

  “I’m fine,” I lied. “I’ll be right out.”

  “Come down to the kitchen when you’re ready.”

  I made a sound he took for agreement, and I heard his footsteps retreat. I finally stepped out of the shower and dried myself off. I checked my back in the mirror, but there was no sign that I’d been whipped bloody the night before.

  When I reentered the bedroom, I was grateful to see that Adam had taken the bloody clothes away. He’d laid the bra and shirt I’d worn yesterday out on the bed, along with a pair of police-issue sweatpants. I was grateful for them, since I’d left my shopping bags at Brian’s yesterday.

  The sweatpants were huge on me, but they didn’t seem in danger of falling down, so that was okay. I didn’t have any panties, but that wasn’t an article of clothing I expected Adam to provide.

  I realized I was stalling, so I forced myself out of the room and down the stairs. I’d gone through hell last night to secure Adam’s help in rescuing Brian. Now it was time to see what my blood had bought me.

  I stepped into the kitchen and was surprised to see Dominic. I guess after the way he’d reacted to me yesterday, I’d expected him to avoid me like the plague. I stood in the doorway, my feet rooted to the floor. I couldn’t look at Adam. And I didn’t want to look at Dominic.

  Wordlessly, Dominic poured a mug of coffee and brought it to me, surprising me into looking up at him. His eyes showed nothing but sympathy, yesterday’s hatred apparently forgotten. Or at least, pushed aside.

  “You all right?” he asked as I took the mug and wrapped both hands around it.

  “Yeah.”

  “Liar.”

  I shrugged. “The bad guys have my boyfriend. When he’s safe, I’ll have a nice little nervous breakdown. But I can’t afford one now.”

  He smiled at that. “Come sit down. Adam has news for you.”

  By sheer force of will, I dragged myself across the room and sat at the kitchen table beside Adam. I still couldn’t look at him.

  “I watched the videotape,” he said. He sounded completely normal, as if nothing had happened between us.

  I couldn’t manage that. I finally looked at him, and I know my expression was something ugly. “Did you enjoy it?”

  Dominic started to say something outraged-sounding, but Adam cut him off.

  “Give her a break, Dom.”

  Dominic shut up. I considered apologizing but decided against it.

  Adam might be willing to let the smart-ass comment slide, but he wasn’t about to respond to it. “I recognize the room he’s in.”

  “What?”

  “I know where they’re holding him.”

  “How can that be?”

  “Because I’ve been there,” he answered in his best talk-slowly-so-the-moron-can-understand-you voice.

  I’d never in a million years expected Adam to be able to tell me where Brian was off the top of his head. I’d assumed we’d have to mount some kind of massive search.

  “So where is he?” I asked.

  “He’s in the basement of a private club on South Street, known as The Seven Deadlies.”

  My sluggish brain finally started to make sense of what I was hearing. “You mean it’s an S&M club.” My face must have shown my disgust.

  Adam grinned, enjoying my squeamishness. “Not exactly. It caters to quite a variety of sins of the flesh. S&M is just one of them.”

  “And you’ve been there. Been in that room.” I remembered the whips, the manacles, the freakin’ rack.

  He nodded. His glance slid over to Dominic, then back to me. “When Dom had his demon, we went there every once in a while. They have a wider array of toys than—”

  I held up both hands. “Please, spare me the details.”

  He laughed. “Okay, okay. The important point is I know that room.”

  “And the important question,” Dominic added, sitting down at the table with us, “is why would they hold him in a room that someone might recognize?”

  I shook my head. “Certainly they wouldn’t expect me to recognize it.”

  “No,” Adam conceded, “but they most likely know you’ve been at my house. And the demons among them at least know I’m one of Lugh’s lieutenants.”

  I remembered Raphael’s phone call yesterday. He’d not only known I’d been with Adam, he’d also known I’d called the police on him. I didn’t really want to remind Adam or Dominic about my less-than-noble behavior, but I did anyway.

  “Raphael knew I was the one who phoned in the complaint,” I said, then told them about my little conversation with my dear brother. “He’d have good reason to think you’d never see this tape. And I’ve got to admit, keeping him at an S&M club is an effective way to hide him in plain sight. No one there would worry if they heard screams coming from that room.” The thought sickened me.

  “You may be right,” Adam conceded, in a voice that suggested he thought I was dead wrong, “but we still have to operate under the assumption that this is a trap.”

  If he thought I needed convincing that this was a dangerous situation, he was dead wrong. “Don’t worry, I’m clear on that. Of course, you are the Director of Special Forces, and you have proof that a crime has been committed there. Can’t you just, you know, storm the building or something?”

  “That would be a very bad idea.”

  “Why?”

  Adam and Dominic shared a look I didn’t understand. Then Adam turned his attention back to me. It looked like he was picking his words very, very carefully.

  “The owner of The Seven Deadlies is the demon version of a snitch.”

  “Huh?”

  If I didn’t know better, I’d have sworn Adam was uncomfortable. His eyes slid away from mine to focus on his cup of coffee.

  “She’s an illegal,” he said, the corners of his mouth tight. “And the club caters to demons. All demons.”

  My wits weren’t at their sharpest this morning, so I decided to test my understanding. “So you’re telling me that not only is the owner an illegal demon, but the club is crawling with them?”

  He shrugged. “Crawling with them would be overstating it, but, yes, I’m sure there are others who spend time there.”

  I didn’t get this at all. “So basically you’re just pretending to be a demon hunter. In reality, you don’t give a shit about how many demons are out there preying on helpless, unwilling human hosts.” My level of outrage was rising steadily, as was my voice.

  “Not true!” he answered, and I could almost see his defenses going up. “Shae is an excellent informant, and thanks to her I’ve captured demons I’d never have found any other way. It’s just that she won’t give me all of them.”

  “Basically,” Dominic interjected, ?
??she gives him the ones she doesn’t like. Luckily, it’s easy to get on her bad side.”

  “And you don’t haul her in because…?”

  Adam gave me the kind of condescending look you’d give a preschool child. “Because then my number-one informant wouldn’t be on the street anymore. Letting her continue to operate is a necessary evil.” He gave me a look somewhere between a grin and a sneer. “Besides, you should be damn grateful I don’t haul in every illegal demon I meet, or I’d have arrested you the first night I knew you were possessed, and you’d be ashes by now.”

  I wanted to debate this some more, but managed to reel myself back in. I had more important things to think about right now than the morality of allowing police snitches to roam free. “Why does any of this mean we can’t storm the club? And please don’t tell me it’s just because you don’t want to offend your snitch.”

  “No, it’s not that. It’s just that she has other contacts within the police department. Contacts who will warn her if we try to orchestrate a raid on her club.”

  “And this necessary evil of yours would tell the people who have Brian and they’d, what, kill him? And she wouldn’t have a problem with that?” My voice was rising again, along with my blood pressure. I reminded myself for the millionth time that I needed Adam’s help and that yelling at him wasn’t the best way to get it.

  “Shae is a mercenary, through and through,” Adam said. A tick in his jaw suggested I was getting on his nerves, but so far he seemed better in control of his temper than I was of mine. “Pay her enough, and she’ll be happy to overlook just about anything. But believe me, she’s a lot less malevolent than most illegals. And we’re not debating this. The situation is what it is. If we try to mount an assault, she’ll hear about it, and she’ll take whatever precautions she feels are necessary, up to and including allowing Raphael’s people to kill your dearly beloved. So no police support. What’s your next idea?”

  I thought it was a sign of my newfound maturity that I managed to let the subject drop. Not that it was easy when righteous indignation threatened to overwhelm me. But I had to keep focused, had to get Brian out of there. I could complain about the snitch thing later.

  “If the frontal assault is out,” I said, and only a hint of my anger showed in my voice, “then I guess we’re just going to have to be sneaky.”

  “And you have a plan for this sneaky rescue?” Adam asked, giving me his best bland look.

  “No. But I bet someone as intimately familiar with the place as you are can come up with one.” My smile at that point was no doubt sickeningly sweet.

  Unfortunately, Adam smiled back. His smile, however, was not sweet. “Oh, I think I can come up with a suggestion.”

  Why did I think I wasn’t going to like this suggestion of his? “All right,” I said, accepting the inevitable, “lay it on me.”

  Chapter 22

  My suspicion that I wouldn’t like Adam’s plan was spot-on. Go figure. However, since I couldn’t come up with a better one…

  That afternoon, I had the unique pleasure of going shopping with a police escort. Adam, of course. Hoping that none of the bad guys would see us together, he drove me to New Jersey for this little expedition instead of taking me to any of the Philadelphia spots. He stole glances out of the rearview mirror every five seconds while we drove, but he said he didn’t see any signs of pursuit.

  Our first stop was at a dive of a salon, where I let a gum-cracking teenager with hair like roadkill bleach my hair a very white blond. She did the same to my eyebrows, then moussed my hair into sticky spikes. I looked wretched, but I also hardly looked like myself, which was the idea.

  Next, we went to a dive of a clothing shop that specialized in biker-slut couture. Adam browbeat me into buying a black vinyl miniskirt, a black leather bustier that laced up the front and didn’t close all the way, and black vinyl thigh-high boots with stiletto heels. When I looked at myself in the mirror, I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

  When I emerged from the dressing room to purchase my costume—I refused to think of these as clothes—I saw that Adam had added a pair of black leather wrist cuffs dotted with silver studs and a black leather dog collar with similar decoration.

  I started shaking my head violently, but he tore the clothes out of my hands, piled them on the counter, and handed the amused salesclerk his credit card.

  “If we’re going to do this, love, we’re going to do it right.”

  I imagined wearing that outfit out in public and considered the possibility that I might just prefer to die.

  Our last stop was a shop that specialized in theater makeup, where we bought pancake makeup, obnoxious black lipstick, and obnoxious black eyeliner.

  Well, okay, the eyeliner wasn’t that obnoxious. It was just that I knew how much of it he was going to make me wear.

  Late in the afternoon, Dominic called Adam’s cell to let him know the expected videotape had arrived at my office. Delivered by messenger service, of course, so we couldn’t track it to its source. I asked what was on the tape, but all Adam would tell me was that Dom said it was “what you’d expect.” Maybe I was better off not knowing.

  I called Andrew from a pay phone, seething with hatred. We began negotiations for Brian’s release, discussing where we would do the trade, but my temper got the better of me again and he hung up on me. It was just as well—we needed to stall a bit anyway, because I wasn’t about to turn myself in.

  We met Dominic for dinner at what I would swear was a Family-owned Italian restaurant, then we rented a cheesy motel room. Adam didn’t want any chance that the bad guys would see me within three feet of him with my new do, and he wanted to make sure we weren’t followed when we showed up at the club.

  On the theory that it would be easier to disappear into the crowd if the club was as crowded as possible, we decided to show up around midnight. At ten-thirty, we started getting me into costume.

  Yes, it was a team effort. Not that I needed help getting into my clothes, what there was of them, but I definitely needed help with the makeup. I tried not to laugh hysterically while Dominic covered my all-too-recognizable tattoo with that thick, pore-clogging pancake makeup.

  Adam sent me back to the bathroom three times to put on more eyeliner and lipstick, until I looked like a biker slut in clown makeup. Then Dominic took his turn in that bathroom. I hadn’t seen what his costume looked like yet, but I figured it couldn’t possibly be as hideous as mine.

  Adam gave me a definite once-over when Dom disappeared into the bathroom. His grin was lascivious in the extreme and made me want to lace the bustier tighter. But I’d already laced it as tight as it would go if I still wanted to breathe. There was at least a one-inch gap between my breasts, and the tight lacing meant lots of cleavage.

  Adam licked his lips. “Such a shame you insisted on buying panties,” he said. “It would have been so much fun imagining you in that outfit without them.”

  I gaped at him. The look in his eyes was pure lust, and unless he’d shoved a cucumber down the front of his pants while I wasn’t looking, it was genuine.

  I cast a furious look at the bathroom door, but Adam just laughed.

  “Don’t worry, love. While I can’t help admiring the view, this,” he said as he ran his hand down the bulge, “is all for Dom.”

  My face flamed, amusing him even more. I wondered if maybe I should try to revive the awkwardness of this morning. I think I liked it better than when he felt comfortable with me.

  At that moment, the bathroom door opened.

  Dominic wasn’t as tricked out as me, but he definitely didn’t look himself. He’d slicked back his unruly hair with something that gave it a greasy shine, and he’d changed into a black mesh T-shirt and obscenely tight black leather pants. He also wore cuffs and collar, similar to mine.

  “What’s all for me?” he asked, eyebrows raised, but he must have picked up on the particular flavor of tension in the room because his eyes zeroed in on Adam’s groin.
I didn’t think the color that rose to his cheeks was entirely embarrassment. “Oh,” he mumbled.

  His pants were easily tight enough to show he appreciated Adam’s appreciation. I wanted out of the room more than I could say.

  “Morgan,” Adam said, and there was a hint of sharpness to his voice that made me look up. “You’re going to have to at least pretend you’re comfortable with us. The Seven Deadlies is not the place for prudishness, especially not when you’re supposed to be our third.”

  God, please kill me now.

  I’d been mentally shielding myself all day, trying not to think about this wonderful plan of ours. But I couldn’t do it forever.

  As plans go, it wasn’t much. Not knowing how many people—and demons—were guarding Brian, and not knowing what condition he would be in, there wasn’t a whole lot of advance planning we could do. All we knew for sure was that we had to find our way into that basement. Considering what went on down there, there was only one way to manage it.

  My acting skills are lousy, and if I actually had to participate in any S&M sex games, I’d never be able to do it. So Adam had come up with a story for me. I was Adam’s new human plaything-in-training because Dominic without his demon just wasn’t satisfying enough. But I was being punished, so for tonight, I would be allowed to observe, but not participate.

  “If it makes you feel any better,” Dominic said with a nervous smile, “I’m not what you’d call comfortable with this, either. Saul had no qualms about performing in public. I do.”

  “Oh,” I said, feeling vaguely ashamed of myself for not thinking about that. I’d seen evidence before that Dominic wasn’t an exhibitionist. “I’m really sorry—”

  “It’ll be okay,” Adam interrupted, closing the distance between himself and Dominic and putting both hands on his lover’s shoulders. “I’ll make you comfortable.” His hands slid up Dominic’s neck until they cupped his face and pulled his head down for a kiss.