Speak of the Devil

  About the only time I’ll act all housewifey is when I’m under a lot of strain. The fact that my apartment was already spotless was a testament to what my life had been like lately.

  At around three o’clock, the front desk called to let me know I had a visitor: Adam White. Adam’s the Director of Special Forces, the branch of the Philly police department that’s responsible for demon-related crime. He’s also a demon who’s into S&M, heavy on the S, and one of Lugh’s chief supporters. Too bad he and I get along about as well as your typical snake and mongoose.

  The last thing I wanted to deal with was another verbal sparring session with Adam, but he wouldn’t have stopped by just for a social call. He had something important to talk to me about, and hearing him out was the only responsible option.

  Because I’m completely paranoid—with good reason, I might add—I checked the peephole to make sure it really was Adam before I opened the door to let him in.

  Despite the fact that I disliked Adam and that the feeling was mutual, I couldn’t help noticing how scrumptious he looked. All legal demon hosts are good-looking—the Spirit Society thinks it’s beneath a demon’s dignity to reside in someone unattractive— but Adam’s looks definitely pushed my buttons. He was the classic tall, dark, and handsome, with a super-sized serving of bad boy on top. He was obviously off duty today, wearing a pair of heavily faded blue jeans and a white oxford shirt with the sleeves rolled up past his elbows. My inventory of his appearance came to a screeching halt when I saw the manila folder tucked under his right arm.

  The last time he’d shown up at my place with a manila folder, he’d blithely shown me some of the most gruesome crime scene photos you could imagine. It had slipped his mind that as a civilian, I wasn’t used to looking at images of people whose insides weren’t inside anymore, and it had been all I could do not to hurl.

  Adam chuckled softly when he saw me staring at the folder. “No, these aren’t more crime scene photos,” he assured me.

  I hated that my train of thought had been that obvious, but by now I was beginning to believe I’d never learn to keep everything I’m thinking from flashing across my face like the CNN crawl.

  “Glad to hear it,” I said, trying to sound casual as I gestured him in.

  He nodded his thanks and headed for my dining room table, laying the folder down and flipping it open. Despite his assurances, my subconscious clearly didn’t trust him, because I had to fight my instinct to look away.

  The first thing I saw was an eight-by-ten photo of a pretty, perky blond woman. I recognized her immediately as Barbara Paige, aka Reporter Barbie. Actually, I was going to have to stop calling her Reporter Barbie, because we’d established beyond a shadow of a doubt that she wasn’t a reporter, despite her claims.

  She’d started following me around and asking questions shortly after the Maguire exorcism. I hadn’t seen her in the weeks since then, though I often felt like I was being watched. But again, that could just be my paranoia speaking.

  Adam picked up the photo and handed it to me. “Her real name is Barbara Paget. And it turns out she’s a private investigator.”

  I groaned and sank into one of the chairs. A reporter was bad enough, but a PI? “Let me guess. Hired by Jordan Maguire Sr.?”

  “I don’t know for sure, but that’s a good guess. And there’s more.”

  “Great.”

  He pushed another couple of photos across the table to me. One of them was a family shot—mom, dad, and two beautiful teenage girls, maybe about sixteen years old. The girls looked so much alike that they had to be twins, although they didn’t go for the cutesy matching clothes some twins favored.

  The second photo was of what had once been a pair of cars. They’d both been smashed, and it was obvious from the photo that one car had hit the other square in the passenger door. One of the cars had been burned almost black, but the other car apparently had not caught fire.

  It didn’t look to me like the kind of accident that left any survivors.

  Adam pointed at the picture of the family. “The girl on the left is Barbara, and those are her parents and her twin sister, Blair.” He then pointed at the accident photo. “Barbara was staying overnight at a friend’s house when the accident happened. Both parents were killed, and Blair was horribly burned. She had to be resuscitated twice on the way to the hospital. The doctors say it’s a miracle she survived, but I’m not sure she’d agree. She’s paralyzed from the neck down and suffers from severe brain damage.”

  I couldn’t help wincing, seeing the picture of her looking so young and vibrant and happy. I knew what it was like to lose family members, both to death and to what I considered worse. Even though Barbie had been a major pain in my ass and was looking to continue in that role, I couldn’t help feeling a bit sorry for her.

  “Barbara, as Blair’s only living relative, is paying for her stay at the long-term care facility.” The grimness in Adam’s face told me just which facility he was talking about.

  “The Healing Circle.”

  Adam nodded to confirm my guess. The Healing Circle is possibly the best and biggest hospital-cum-long-term-care facility in the city. It’s also run by demons who tend to be loyal to Dougal, the would-be usurper of the demon throne.

  “Is it a coincidence, do you think?” I asked Adam, not sure what to think myself.

  “Hard to tell. On the one hand, it does seem like a pretty major coincidence that the PI hired to investigate you has any kind of tie to The Healing Circle. On the other hand, anyone who has a relative in the condition Blair is in would want that relative at The Healing Circle if they could afford it.”

  That was true. My own brother had spent a chunk of time there, catatonic after his demon had left his body. He was one of the lucky few who recovered.

  I frowned. “I don’t know what kind of money private investigators make, but is it enough to pay for that kind of care?”

  “I’d say that’s pretty iffy. Of course, if all her clients are like Maguire…”

  I nodded, not needing him to finish the thought. Maguire had more money than some small countries, and I doubted he would spare any expense in his little witch hunt. And that’s all this lawsuit was. Obviously, Maguire didn’t need more money, even if I’d had any.

  “So, have you had one of your little chats with Ms. Paget?” I asked. Adam is a real pro at the intimidation game. Not to mention other kinds of games that I don’t want to think about.

  To my surprise, he shook his head. “Considering that Maguire must be a real cash cow, I doubt I’d be able to get her to back off. And the fact that I’d tried would probably set off all kinds of warning bells in her head.”

  “So what you’re telling me is there’s basically nothing we can do about her?”

  “Pretty much.”

  Great. I was broke. I was unemployed. I was being sued. I was being followed and otherwise investigated. And through all this, I was supposed to help restore Lugh to his throne while his enemies made repeated attempts to kill us.

  I really needed to get a new life. Mine, frankly, sucked.

  Chapter 2

  I offered to make a pot of coffee, because caffeine is my drug of choice. I expected Adam to decline. We weren’t exactly bosom buddies, so when he accepted my offer, I knew there was something else he wanted to talk about. Knowing him, I wouldn’t like the subject, but I hoped it would be better than brooding about the lawsuit.

  My financial situation had reduced me to el-cheapo store-brand coffee instead of the freshly ground beans I much preferred. At least it still smelled good and packed the caffeine punch I needed. I brought two mugs of coffee to the table and handed one to Adam before taking my seat once more. I suppose it would have been more hostesslike to move this party into the living room, but somehow that seemed too… cozy.

  Adam regarded his mug suspiciously, then grimaced when he took a tentative sip. I took my own sip and had to admit, it was pretty bad. I’d made it extra strong, and that only ser
ved to enhance the bitterness.

  I shrugged as casually as I could manage. “You want gourmet coffee, stick with Dominic.”

  Dominic is Adam’s boyfriend. The two of them had been involved even before the court ordered Dominic’s demon, Saul, to be exorcized, but the relationship had only grown stronger since then. Dominic’s a really nice guy, and he’s also the best cook I’ve ever known. He’d been thinking of opening his own restaurant lately, and I really hoped he’d do it. I was sure the place would be the talk of the town.

  One corner of Adam’s mouth lifted in a grin. “I have every intention of sticking with Dominic, and it’s not because of the coffee. Or the food.”

  As usual, my cheeks heated with a blush. Like I said, Adam is into S&M, and Dominic is the M part of the equation. I wasn’t quite as horrified by it now as I had been when I’d first found out, but I wasn’t exactly comfortable with my knowledge, either. Adam loved watching me squirm when he made references to the kinkier side of his relationship with Dom.

  But apparently today he wanted more than just to see me squirm. “I have a proposition for you,” he said. “It won’t help you afford the gourmet stuff, but it might help you upgrade from this swill to bad coffee.”

  I had no idea what Adam was talking about, but I already knew my answer. “I’m not interested.”

  He laughed. “Nothing indecent,” he assured me. “I was just thinking that, considering your current situation, you might benefit from having someone to split the rent and groceries with.”

  I was so surprised I practically sloshed my coffee out of my cup. “You mean Saul, don’t you?”

  Saul had originally been Dominic’s demon. He’d been attacked by God’s Wrath, the most militant of the anti-demon hate groups, and although he’s one of those demons who finds pain fascinating enough to be pleasurable, the attack had been too much for him. He’d struck back. One of his attackers had died on the spot, and another had died in the hospital a few days later. The law is very strict where demon conduct is concerned. If a demon commits a violent crime, even in self-defense, he’s going to be exorcized. Adam had asked me to perform the exorcism, and it was the first time I’d ever felt bad about exorcizing a demon.

  Saul was also one of Lugh’s lieutenants, so when Lugh decided to set up his court on the Mortal Plain, he’d wanted to summon Saul back from the Demon Realm, where he’d been banished after the exorcism. Lugh had wanted Dominic to host Saul again, but Dom had refused the “privilege.” Although he and Saul had been close, Dom hadn’t been willing to give up what he had with Adam to host Saul once more.

  We’d found another host for Saul—Dick, a mentally challenged product of Dougal’s human breeding program. The poor guy had been raised since infancy to believe his only purpose in life was to host a demon, and so when I’d exorcized the bad-ass demon who’d possessed him, the majority of Lugh’s council agreed he’d be the perfect host for Saul. After all, he wouldn’t have much of a life on his own, what with his complete lack of social skills and his limited intelligence.

  Brian and I had been the sole holdouts. We both thought it immoral to take advantage of Dick’s childlike naiveté, but we’d been overruled.

  Adam’s jerky nod confirmed the identity of my would-be roommate.

  “Trouble in paradise?” I asked, and I couldn’t help the nasty edge that had slipped into my voice. I don’t think I was ever going to get over my disgust at Saul’s possession of poor Dick.

  Anger glinted in Adam’s eyes, but he answered mildly enough. “The three of us cannot continue living together indefinitely, and I’d be happy to foot the bill for his rent.”

  Saul had been staying with Adam and Dom ever since his return to the Mortal Plain, but I supposed it was an awkward arrangement. After all, Adam and Saul had been lovers once, but Adam had clearly chosen Dom over Saul.

  I shook my head. “You can’t seriously believe I’m willing to share my apartment with Saul.” True, Saul wasn’t to blame for the council’s decision to summon him into Dick, but far be it from me to be rational. I couldn’t help holding it against Saul, whether it was his fault or not.

  “You need the money, don’t you? Besides, it wouldn’t hurt for you and Lugh to have a bodyguard, and this would be a way to arrange it without it looking suspicious.”

  “I don’t need a bodyguard!” I protested, and felt a sense of déjà vu. This was beginning to sound like my argument with Brian.

  “Are you sure about that?”

  I didn’t answer, because, of course, I wasn’t sure. Unlike most demon hosts, I’ve retained full control of my body while being possessed. With some practice, and with the help of extenuating circumstances, I’d learned how to let Lugh take control, letting him use his demon strength and healing ability to defend me when necessary. However, now that I’d finally learned to do it at will, I’d discovered that nothing comes without a price.

  I’d been sick as a dog for about three days after the last time I’d let Lugh take over. The experience left me less than anxious to let him in again, so in reality, a demon bodyguard wasn’t a bad idea at all. But talk about cramping my style!

  “Have you forgotten you’re not the only one who has a boyfriend?” I asked.

  Adam rolled his eyes. “I’m sure you could work something out if you wanted to.” The muscles in his jaw twitched, and his lips pressed tightly together. He was keeping his temper under control, but just barely.

  “You’re probably right, but I don’t want to.” Okay, I bought into both of Adam’s arguments—that I needed the money and that a bodyguard could be useful. But Saul was pretty much a complete stranger to me, and whether it was fair of me or not, I already had a pretty bad impression of him. How could I share my small, cramped apartment with the guy?

  I expected Adam to let go of the reins of his temper and yell at me. I’m a pro at bringing out the worst in him. But instead, he bowed his head and his shoulders slumped.

  “So you won’t do it for yourself,” he said, speaking to the tabletop instead of me, “and I know you won’t do it for me.” He raised his eyes to mine, and I could see how much this conversation was costing him. “Would you do it for Dominic?”

  I blinked in surprise. “For Dominic? Why is he having a problem with Saul? I thought the two of them were great friends.”

  Adam let out a mournful sigh. “As far as Dom’s concerned, they are. But I’ve known Saul a long time. I told you, we’ve been friends since we came to the Mortal Plain. And I can clearly see that what he feels for Dom is more than just friendship.”

  “Oh.” I couldn’t think of anything more to add.

  “Dom doesn’t seem to have picked up on it yet, but he will eventually. And when he does, things are going to get even more … awkward than they are now.”

  I shook my head. “So why doesn’t Saul get his own place?”

  “He will, but it’s going to take time. Remember, he’s a man with no identity. No Social Security number, no driver’s license, no ID … You get the idea. I’m working on fixing that, but in case you’ve forgotten, I’m a cop. If I don’t tread carefully, I’ll get myself into a hell of a lot of trouble.”

  I snorted. “Since when do you ‘tread carefully’? I can’t even begin to count the number of laws you’ve broken since I’ve known you.”

  He nodded. “In controlled circumstances, where I’m taking action myself. Not in circumstances where I have to rely on others to keep their mouths shut. I can’t manufacture an identity for Saul all by myself, but I have to be very, very careful who I approach. So it’s taking longer than I’d hoped.”

  I might not like Adam much, but I did like Dom, and I certainly didn’t want him to get stuck in the middle when he figured out that Saul wanted more than friendship. But despite all the rational arguments for why I should take him in, I just couldn’t do it.

  “Ask Andy,” I said, shaking my head. “He’s got a spare room in his apartment, and he’s not exactly raking in the bucks, either.” r />
  Andy is my brother. He has twice been the host for the demon Raphael, Lugh’s youngest brother—once voluntarily, and once very much not so. Recently, Raphael had released Andy by taking a new host. Both Andy and I were struggling with guilt, since we’d allowed Raphael to take over another, very much unwilling host. Andy had been reclusive and sullen ever since Raphael took his new host, so I wasn’t surprised when Adam told me he’d already asked and been refused.

  “I suppose I could ask Brian,” Adam said doubtfully. “But there’d be nothing in it for him, and he’s not as … involved as you are.”

  I sighed. “Give me a couple of days to think about it, okay?” I couldn’t believe those words were leaving my mouth, but it was too late to take them back.

  Adam echoed my sigh. “Thanks.”

  I opened my mouth to protest, but Adam held up his hand to stop me.

  “I know you haven’t agreed to anything,” he said. “I’m just thanking you for at least thinking about it.” He smiled, making the laugh lines around his eyes crinkle. “Why don’t you come over for dinner tonight? You can get acquainted with Saul a bit and get a good meal in your belly.” He pushed his mug away, having drunk at most two sips of the coffee. “And get some decent coffee in your system.”

  I had never yet found the will to refuse a home-cooked meal from Dominic, and today was no exception. My mouth started watering at the offer, and there was no way I could settle for ramen noodles with that kind of temptation.

  I hadn’t seen Saul since we’d summoned him to the Mortal Plain, a little more than a week ago. His host was a successful product of Dougal’s eugenics program in Houston—Dougal’s idea of success being a host with superhuman capabilities and the mental capacity of a turnip. The Houston facility had managed to breed an amazing ability into its lab-created hosts: the ability to shape-shift.

  No, I don’t mean these Houston hosts can turn into werewolves. But when a demon possesses one of these hosts, it can rearrange and restructure the host’s appearance. The bad guys had used this ability to change Dick into a replica of a human being they had murdered.