The Devil Inside (10 page)

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Jenna Black, The Devil Inside (2007)

Morgan Kingsley #1

White walls, white ceiling, white floor. White everywhere. I looked down at myself to find I was wearing a pair of white jeans with a white sweatshirt. I’d have said I was dreaming, except I didn’t feel like I was dreaming. I pinched myself on the arm, and it hurt. There was a sound like a quiet exhalation from behind me. Slowly, I turned around.

He was a shocking patch of darkness in the white. About six-five, with straight, jet-black hair pulled back into a ponytail at the nape of his neck. Black leather bomber jacket decorated with silver rivets. Black leather pants that clung to his legs and tapered into knee-high black leather boots. Tanned skin just light enough to be Caucasian, just dark enough to suggest maybe not.

After I got over the shock of black, I felt a new shock when I got a look at his eyes. They were the color of dark amber held up to the sun, and they were fixed on me with such intense focus that I felt pinned by them. He took a step toward me, and I lost my paralysis enough to take a step back. He came to a stop, still watching me with that startling intensity, and raised his hands as if to say: “See, no weapons, completely harmless.”

I didn’t know what the hell was going on, but one thing I did know—

this guy was not completely harmless. Tall, muscular, imposing, with glowing eyes and a severe, angular face that made me think serial killer. No, not harmless at all.

I cleared my throat, wondering why I wasn’t more scared under the circumstances. I mean, last thing I knew, I was cuddled up in bed with nice, safe Brian. Now I was in some creepy white room, trapped with one of the scariest dudes I’d ever seen. Yeah, my pulse was a little elevated, but I wasn’t terrified like I should be. Maybe I was drugged?

“I suspect we don’t have much time,” Mr. Terrifying said. His voice went with his look, a deep, growling bass that made my knees quiver. I looked around the empty, featureless room—where the hell was the door?—and wondered just where he thought I was going to go. Then the psycho-killer smiled suddenly, an almost impish expression that changed everything. The aura of menace disappeared as if it had never been there. Nothing about him had changed. He was still huge, still dressed in aggressive black leather. His eyes still seemed to glow as if there were some kind of light behind them. But he’d gone from insanely scary to 59 / 226

Jenna Black, The Devil Inside (2007)

Morgan Kingsley #1

impossibly sexy in about one second flat. All because of a smile.

“Your ability to fight me is astonishing,” he said, still in that James Earl Jones rumble.

I shook my head and tried without success to find my voice. It seemed to be jammed in my throat somewhere, and despite the bizarre circumstances, my eyes insisted on taking another inventory of tall, dark, and dangerous. He didn’t seem to mind me looking. In fact, if that bulge in the front of his pants was any indication, he liked it rather a lot. Heat crept up my cheeks, and I decided that no matter how real this felt, it had to be a dream. I wouldn’t be caught dead staring at a stranger’s crotch the way I was staring at this guy’s.

He laughed, and the sound reverberated somewhere deep inside me, drying my mouth and wetting other portions of my anatomy.

“I see I’ve chosen a guise you find pleasing,” he said, and his amber eyes sparkled with good humor.

“Uh…” That was the best conversation I could manage at the moment. The humor faded from his face. I felt bereft.

“You are dreaming,” he told me. “In a way. I’m trying my best to communicate with you. The notes are not…adequate. You keep waking up in the middle.”

Oh, so that’s what this is all about. Yeah, this guy was just the kind of messenger my subconscious would come up with. I tried to play it cool, just waiting for the dream to end. I crossed my arms over my chest and gave him my best tough-chick-with-an-attitude look. He seemed less than impressed.

“I know you’re telling yourself I’m some kind of figment of your imagination,” he continued. “But honestly, Morgan, has your imagination ever been this vivid?”

I lowered my eyes, not wanting to see the knowing look on his face. He was a stranger to me. He had no right to look knowing.

“Look,” I said, my eyes fixed on one of the rivets in his jacket, “I don’t know who you are, or what you want—”

“If you’d be so kind as to let me talk, I’ll tell you,” he interrupted. Reluctantly, I raised my gaze to his face again. God, he was gorgeous. Lethally so. I made a zipping-my-lips gesture. He raised an eyebrow as if he didn’t quite get it, then spoke again.

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Jenna Black, The Devil Inside (2007)

Morgan Kingsley #1

“I am Lugh. I’m a demon, and I’m currently in possession of your body.”

He frowned, the expression marring the perfection of his face. “In a manner of speaking, I suppose, since I seem unable to influence you except when you’re sleeping.”

I remembered the letter I’d written to myself, the one where I’d named my imaginary demon Lugh. “So you say I invited you in under the influence of drugs, right?”

He nodded. “My first memory when I awoke in the Mortal Plain was of lying on your bed. You’d been tied down. A man in a mask untied you. He didn’t say anything, and I couldn’t make you move or speak. I would guess the man was Andrew, though I can’t be sure.”

“And I don’t remember any of this…why?”

“Because you were drugged. You didn’t have any more success moving your body than I did.”

I wasn’t buying any of this—or at least, I was trying not to—but I figured even in a dream, it’s best to humor psycho-killers who could squash you without even breaking a sweat.

“Why would anyone want to go through all that trouble to stick you in an unwilling host?” I asked. “There are plenty of volunteers available.”

He frowned, and the light behind his eyes grew brighter. “I have enemies among my people. People who do not like my message. I would say someone wants to keep me quiet. Which means someone knew that I wouldn’t be able to gain control of your body.

“Letting Valerie know I’m communicating with you was not a good idea.”

“Now listen here, mister—”

“If they’re trying to keep me quiet, then they don’t want me talking to my host.”

I threw up my hands in frustration. “Who the hell are ‘they’?”

He took a step closer to me. Again, I backed away. He might be the studliest guy I’d ever laid eyes on, but I didn’t trust him as far as I could throw him.

“I don’t know. Just be careful. Whoever they are, they’re not going to leave you alone.”

He flickered. Just like one of those old black-and-white movies.

“Damn it!” he said. “You’re fighting me again. Please, try to relax and let me talk to you. We have to figure out what to do.”

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Jenna Black, The Devil Inside (2007)

Morgan Kingsley #1

I shook my head. I didn’t know what I was doing to fight him, but whatever it was, I wanted to keep doing it. I’d had enough of this dream, thank you very much.

He flickered again.

Then he was gone, and I was alone in the white room. Seconds later, I awoke to find myself cuddled safely in Brian’s arms. 62 / 226

Jenna Black, The Devil Inside (2007)

Morgan Kingsley #1

I left Brian’s before he woke up the next morning. Cowardly of me, I suppose, but I couldn’t see myself calmly discussing my situation over coffee. I knew I wasn’t a good enough actress to pretend nothing was wrong. I’d spent the night at Brian’s just often enough to warrant having a change of clothes there, though I was stuck using his Old Spice deodorant. I didn’t realize how much I’d come to associate that scent with him until I’d left. The scent was faint, and I kept thinking he was right there with me. Maybe I should have stopped by a Rite Aid and bought some of my own stuff.

I made it to the office by seven. I’d finished the reports on my exorcisms yesterday, but there was still plenty of paperwork waiting for me, accounting details and such. I wasn’t being what you’d call productive. I kept telling myself that Lugh was nothing but a vivid dream. Okay, I’m the queen of denial. So sue me.

At around eleven, someone banged on my office door. I’d have said

“knocked,” except this sound was far more authoritative and I practically jumped out of my chair. Before I had a chance to invite anyone in, the door swung open, and a pair of plainclothes detectives stepped in. I vaguely recognized one of them. When you’re an exorcist, you deal with the criminal element on a regular basis, and that means getting to know cops. They were a bit of an odd couple, the two of them. The one on the left, whom I’d never seen before, looked too skinny to be a cop. He had the build of a man who could eat five-course meals on a regular basis and never gain any weight. I’d have said he couldn’t scare a five-year-old on Halloween if it hadn’t been for his eyes. They were the iciest blue I’d ever seen, and the expression in them wasn’t much warmer. The eyes alone would be enough to keep most sane perps in line.

His partner, the familiar one, looked like the kind of guy who dressed up as Santa Claus for Christmas. He wasn’t fat, exactly, but he had a definite beer gut, and his cheeks were rosy. Not a wholesome rosy, actually, more of an I-drink-too-much rosy, but stick a white wig and beard on him 63 / 226

Jenna Black, The Devil Inside (2007)

Morgan Kingsley #1

and I’m betting he’d have looked jolly enough.

There wasn’t much ho-ho-ho in him today, though. Before I had a chance to ask if I could help them with something, he was flashing his badge.

“I’m Detective O’Reilly,” he said. His voice surprised me. He looked like he should have a deep, growling voice, but it was on the high and reedy side.

“This is my partner, Detective Finn.”

Detective Arctic Eyes nodded a greeting. Neither one of them offered to shake hands.

I put on my most accommodating smile—these guys were making me nervous, and I didn’t know why. They had to be here for a follow-up on the break-in at my house. I should be glad to see them.

“What can I do for you, Detectives?” I asked. Neither one of them returned my smile.

“We’d like to ask you a few questions,” O’Reilly said. I didn’t like the way that sounded. “Sure. Please, have a seat.” I motioned to the pair of chairs in front of my desk, but neither of them made a move to sit.

“I think it would be best if we did this at the station.”

I blinked up at the two of them. “What’s this about?” Surely they didn’t need me to come to the station to talk about the break-in. Finn took over talking. He had the kind of voice I’d expected from O’Reilly. “There was an illegal exorcism last night. Your name came up.”

I shook my head. “What? Why?”

“Ms. Kingsley, please come with us,” O’Reilly said. “You’re not an official suspect yet, but we really do need you to answer some questions, and this isn’t the place for it.”

I chewed the inside of my cheek. I didn’t want to make things difficult for our heroic men in blue. I have a great deal of respect for law enforcement officers—Adam White being one of the few exceptions to that rule. Still, this whole thing was making my skin crawl.

I glanced at my watch. “I can meet you there in half an hour.” Just enough time to contact a lawyer—as long as I happened to be dating said lawyer. I didn’t think I had time to find someone else. At least, not someone I trusted. I don’t trust easy. Surprised?

O’Reilly leaned his hands on the chair in front of him while Finn tried 64 / 226

Jenna Black, The Devil Inside (2007)

Morgan Kingsley #1

to freeze my marrow with his eyes.

“We’d appreciate it if you came with us now,” O’Reilly said. But the vibe on these guys felt wrong. I didn’t want to get into a car with them. I mean, I knew they were really police officers and all, but still, something was bugging me. I’d feel a hell of a lot safer meeting them at the station. Even if that would piss them off.

I was very calm and nonconfrontational when I responded. “I’ll be happy to answer any questions you’d like. In a half hour, and with my attorney.” I didn’t ask if they had a warrant, because if they had, they’d have told me already. So far, cooperation on my part was entirely voluntary. Finn looked like he wanted to say something nasty, but O’Reilly silenced him with a tiny shake of his head.

“We’ll see you at eleven-thirty, then,” O’Reilly said, looking at his watch.

“I’m sure you won’t keep us waiting. Right, Miss Kingsley?”

If he was trying to get a rise out of me, he had to do better than that. My fuse isn’t that short. I smiled at both of them. “I look forward to it.”

Finn snorted softly, but the corner of O’Reilly’s mouth lifted as if he found me amusing.

The second they were out the door, I was on the phone, praying Brian wasn’t in a meeting.

He wasn’t in a meeting, but he wasn’t overjoyed to hear from me, either. Apparently, he hadn’t been happy to wake up and find me gone. I decided I’d apologize later, when I wasn’t begging for a favor so it wouldn’t sound so self-serving.

Brian’s not a criminal attorney, but he’s extremely competent. I figured as long as I wasn’t officially under arrest, he’d be able to protect me from any major legal faux pas.

We met at the police station at right around eleven forty-five. We weren’t late on purpose, it just took Brian a little longer to tie up his loose ends at the office than I’d hoped. O’Reilly seemed to take it as a personal offense, though, and glared holes in my skull when I was shown into his office. At least Finn wasn’t there to give me frostbite with his eyes.

“Where were you last night between three-thirty and five?” O’Reilly asked without preamble.

I glanced over at Brian, who raised his shoulders in a hint of a shrug. I took that to mean it was okay to answer the question. 65 / 226