The Devil You Know (25 page)

Brian pushed himself up on his elbows, and I allowed it. He then spit out a mouthful of blood. “Could have been worse,” he mumbled. “
Much
worse.”

I helped him sit up. “Still have all your teeth?”

He grimaced. “All still here, but one feels loose and one feels broken. Guess I’ll be paying a call on the dentist tomorrow.”

“I’m so sorry—”

“Not your fault.” I opened my mouth to protest my guilt more vehemently, but he stared me into silence. “We’ve got more important things to think about right now,” he said, and reluctantly I followed his gaze to where Der Jäger lay.

He was twitching now, but didn’t seem to have enough control of his limbs even to sit up. I double-checked the charge on the stun gun anyway.

“What are we going to do with him?” Brian asked softly.

Nausea roiled in my stomach. I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt what had to be done. Der Jäger knew far too much, and was far too dangerous, to be allowed to return to the Demon Realm. He had to die.

But killing him meant killing my father, and I didn’t know if I was capable of doing it.

My head swam, and for a moment I thought I might faint.

I shook my head violently to clear it. Oh, no. I was
not
going to faint. That might be the easy way out—faint dead away and let Lugh take care of the ugly business—but I’ve never been one to do anything the easy way. And if I was going to condone burning a man alive, I had damn well better step up to the plate and admit it.

“Can you exorcize the demon?” Brian asked me, and I realized I’d neglected to mention to him my hard-won revelation that exorcism merely sends demons back to the Demon Realm.

I swallowed the lump that was forming in my throat as I pushed myself to my feet. “Possibly. Unfortunately, I found out from Lugh that exorcism doesn’t actually kill them. And Der Jäger has to die.”

Der Jäger had been fixing me with a baleful, hostile glare the whole time. But when he heard my words, his eyes went wide, and an expression that looked a lot like fear crossed his face. He opened his mouth to say something, but I didn’t want to hear it, so I gave him another jolt. His body convulsed with the new dose of electricity, and he couldn’t control my father’s mouth enough to form words.

“You can’t be serious,” Brian said quietly, and I realized he’d managed to drag himself to his feet beside me.

I didn’t answer.

“Jesus, Morgan! That’s your
father
!”

“No shit?” I retorted, in what was supposed to sound like an angry voice. I think it came out more like hysteria.

“Surely there has to be a better way,” Brian said, but it sounded more like a question than a statement.

My heart was jackhammering again, and I swayed dizzily. How much easier it would be if I’d just let myself pass out! I could wash my hands of all responsibility. I wouldn’t have to kill my dad, and I wouldn’t have to see the horrified look in Brian’s eyes.

I felt Lugh once again knocking on the doors of my mind, but I locked them up tight. If I could have thrown away the keys, I would have.

“If you’ve got a better idea how to neutralize him without killing him, I’m all ears,” I heard myself saying. It was almost like I was having an out-of-body experience, my soul trying to retreat from the horrible reality of what I had to do. I kept reminding myself that my dad was long gone, buried in some deep, dark oubliette inside his own mind. Better for him to die than to live like that for the rest of his life.

But
would
he live like that the rest of his life? After all, Andy had made it back, and he’d had Raphael in his head for ten years. My father couldn’t have had Der Jäger for even twenty-four hours yet. My heart thudded. It didn’t matter
what
he’d allowed Cooper and Neely to do to me. It didn’t matter that he’d never really loved me. It didn’t matter that he was cold and unfeeling and could be downright nasty. It didn’t even matter that he wasn’t biologically my father. He was my
dad
.

Demons adhere to a strict code of morality wherein the ends justify the means. Even the nicest, kindest, gentlest of them would not hesitate to do the “right thing” in my position. But as I looked at my father sprawled on the ground with a sociopathic demon staring out of his eyes, I knew I didn’t have what it takes.

I winced in pain as Lugh started pounding on my skull again. I wasn’t hearing his voice in my head at the moment, but I knew what he was thinking.

“Are you all right?” Brian asked, putting his hand on my arm and peering into my face with obvious concern.

I couldn’t imagine what expression I must have been wearing to make him look at me like that when he still thought I was about to commit patricide. I whimpered as Lugh kept up his assault.

“You’re right,” I gasped to Brian as I tried to remember how to breathe through the pain of keeping my mental doors shut. “I can’t kill him.” In reality, I wasn’t really sure I could have done it even if the host
hadn’t
been my dad. Shit, what kind of person has what it takes to burn another human being alive? Not the kind of person I want to be, that’s for sure. And that was even if I could work out the logistics of how to do it without being arrested for murder.

“What’s the matter with you?” Brian asked, and I would have been touched by the worry in his voice if I didn’t hurt so damn much.

“Lugh is trying his best to take over. I can’t let him or he’ll take the decision out of both of our hands.” I was glad for Brian’s hands on my shoulders. I needed an anchor as the pain threatened to wash me away.

“What are you going to do?”

Another whimper crawled up my throat, and I wondered how long it would be before I passed out from the pain. “I’d exorcize him if Lugh would only let up, but I don’t think he’s going to. We need to get out of here before Lugh wins.”

I twisted out of Brian’s grip, hurting too much to talk anymore. He watched me with haunted eyes. “But even if you exorcized him, he could just come back in another host, right? And he’ll come after you again.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose, not that it helped. “It doesn’t matter,” I insisted, though I knew it did. “I can’t kill my own father.” I was disoriented in the darkened woods and had no idea which direction the parking lot was, but I knew I had to get out of here soon. I couldn’t take much more.

Picking a direction at random, I started to run. I couldn’t see worth a damn, and my head hurt so much I could barely keep my eyes open. I ran smack-dab into a tree, stumbling back a couple of steps before plunging forward again.

Distantly, I heard Brian yelling at me to stop, but I was sure that if I stopped, I’d collapse to the ground and that would be all she wrote.

“Please, Lugh,” I begged with the small amount of air I managed to drag into my lungs. “Please don’t do this.” But he didn’t let up, and I didn’t stop running.

Until something slammed into my legs and I fell flat on my face.

I kicked out blindly, and Brian cursed when my foot glanced off the side of his leg.

“Stop it!” he shouted at me. “You’re going to hurt yourself.”

“No!” I wailed as darkness seemed to be creeping into the edges of my vision. “I can’t hold him off much longer.” I tried to get up, but Brian held me down, practically sitting on me.

“Calm down!” he said, but he didn’t exactly sound calm himself.

“Let me go.”

“Not until you calm down.”

There was still an edge of panic in his voice, but I also heard implacable will. I tried to slow down my breathing, tried to do as he ordered, but the pain wouldn’t let me. I wanted to tell him exactly what was happening to me in a calm, logical manner, but my brain refused to cooperate. Instead of talking, I struggled helplessly until the effort became too much and my defenses crumpled.

The last time Lugh had taken over my body while I was conscious, I’d had the unsettling experience of riding around in my own body without being able to move a muscle. This time was different.

One moment, I was lying on the forest floor with Brian sitting on my ass to keep me down. The next, I was somewhere else, surrounded by inky, impenetrable darkness.

“Lugh!” I shouted. “Don’t you dare do this!”

Naturally, there was no response. I couldn’t see my hand in front of my face, so I stuck both hands out in front of me as I took a step.

It only took two steps before my hands encountered what felt like a stone wall. I tried to tell myself this was good news, that I’d found a way to orient myself in the darkness. I didn’t even come close to convincing myself.

Hand over hand, I followed that stone wall for about three more paces until I found a corner. I skimmed over the corner and continued following the wall, but my heart now beat like a frightened rabbit’s. I knew where I was, what Lugh had done to me.

My cell seemed to be maybe seven by seven, and completely barren. Cold, damp stone comprised the four walls, and cold, damp earth the floor. When I craned my neck upward, I saw a circular opening about two stories up. Pale blue moonlight filtered through the bars that blocked that opening, but it didn’t reach even halfway down the walls before it was swallowed by the dark.

Shivering, I crossed my arms over my chest. “You bastard,” I said, but I sounded as scared as I felt. I didn’t believe Lugh would leave me down here indefinitely. He was no doubt pissed at me for not letting him in voluntarily, but he was a lot better at letting go of his anger than I was. But even knowing my imprisonment was bound to be short-term, dread pooled in my gut, and my nerves vibrated as if I’d drunk about fifteen cups of coffee.

Unable to hold still, I started pounding on one wall with the flat of my hand.

“Lugh! Let me out of here!” Even the sound of my hand hitting the walls seemed to be swallowed by the darkness, and my voice sounded small and tinny. If this were a real place rather than a waking nightmare, the sound would have echoed.

My hand started to hurt from the abuse, so I kicked the wall instead, my voice rising and growing thinner as panic threatened to overwhelm me.

“Lugh!”

But there was no answer, and the walls stayed firm and solid. I flung myself across the cell to a different wall, pounding with my fist even though I knew I was bruising the hell out of my hand. The panic was taking on a life of its own, sucking the air from the depths of the oubliette, making my lungs work doubly hard.

The stone wall was rough and craggy, so I tried to climb it. Maybe if I were a seasoned rock climber, I would have been able to make it to the top. Probably not, though. And even if I had, the opening was barred.

As it was, all I managed to do was break my fingernails to the quick and throw more fuel onto the fire of my panic. Desperate to escape, I rammed my shoulder into the wall as if it were a door I was intent on breaking down. Of course, it didn’t budge, and the force of my charge caused me to bang my head for good measure.

The blow stunned me, and I staggered. My head spun, my knees weakened, and I collapsed to the cold, earthen floor.

I lay there on my back, staring up at the faint hint of light from above, wishing I would pass out, knowing I wouldn’t. Tears dripped from the corners of my eyes, sliding down my face into my ears. My whole body was drenched with sweat, and yet I shivered incessantly, my teeth chattering loudly in the otherwise oppressive silence.

How long would it take for me to go completely mad? Some hosts seemed to lose themselves within hours of taking on demons, but surely Lugh wouldn’t do that to me, wouldn’t destroy me so utterly in a fit of pique.

My heart seemed to stutter in my chest. What if Lugh had miscalculated? What if he thought I could stand this for a short period of time, but he was wrong? What if he tried to free me, but he couldn’t get me out? I could spend the rest of my life down here, alone in the dark.

Terror drove me to my feet once more, and, screaming like a maniac, I battered myself against the walls, not caring how much it hurt or how little good it seemed to do. When battering them didn’t work, I scrabbled at them with my jagged, broken fingernails, as if I could claw my way through solid stone.

Suddenly, my limbs went completely limp, and I crumpled to the ground once more.

The first hint that I was no longer in the oubliette was the distinctive crackling sound of fire. Then I noticed the smell of smoke in the air.

I forced my eyes open and found myself looking up at an unmarked police car, its bubble light streaking the scene with flashes of red. Adam moved into my line of vision, standing beside me to peer at my face.

“I’ll give you a hand up when you’re ready,” he said, and I could have sworn that was sympathy I saw on his face. “Take it slow.”

I closed my eyes again and sucked in a deep breath, but the smoke smell made me wish I hadn’t. From what I could tell, my real body was uninjured, despite all the damage I’d done to myself in the oubliette. I wasn’t even sweating or shivering, though my stomach wasn’t feeling too happy, and I felt like I could lie here for a week and be perfectly content not to move.

Letting out the deep breath, I opened my eyes and held out my hand. One corner of Adam’s mouth lifted in a lopsided grin.

“Never one to take it slow, are you, love?”

My only answer was a soft snort. He took my hand and hauled me to my feet, steadying me when I swayed. In the distance, I heard the sound of sirens.

We were standing by the side of the road. A few yards from us, the guardrail was twisted and broken, and at the bottom of the embankment, a burning car lay wrapped around an old oak tree. A little past the gap in the guardrail sat my own car, its bumper dragging on the ground amidst a smattering of broken glass and streaks of burned rubber. Brian stood by the car, staring down at the fire below.

My stomach threatened to revolt, but I swallowed hard. “I gather my dad was ‘driving’ that car?” I said, jerking my chin toward the fire.

Adam nodded. “He must have fallen asleep at the wheel. He was in the wrong lane, and when Brian honked at him, he swerved and lost control of his car.” He looked at me out of the corner of his eye. “You were asleep in the passenger seat when it happened, so you didn’t see a thing.”

“Uh-huh.” The sirens were getting closer. “The fire trucks will be too late to save him?”

Adam put a hand on my shoulder and squeezed, and I was so desperate for comfort that I didn’t object.

I watched Brian watch the flames below. He didn’t turn to look at me, though he must have known I was myself again. I couldn’t interpret the look on his face, though it most definitely wasn’t a happy one.

Had Lugh overpowered him and forced him to participate in my father’s murder? Or had Brian held me down with the sole purpose of letting Lugh win our battle and take over? If it was the latter, I didn’t know Brian as well as I thought I did.

The next hour or two passed in a blur. I could barely string two coherent thoughts together, so when I heard Brian describe the accident to the cops, all I could manage was to nod my agreement. When one of the cops started pushing me to tell him what
I
thought had happened, I kept repeating that I’d been asleep and hadn’t seen anything until he was finally convinced he wasn’t going to get anything out of me.

Brian came to stand beside me as we waited for permission to get the hell out of there. Neither of us looked at the other as he reached for my hand and gave it a squeeze.

“I’m sorry,” he said in a voice soft enough not to carry.

I didn’t ask him for what. I extricated my hand from his. “You killed my father.”

He didn’t look at me. “No, I didn’t.”

“But you
helped
.”

He let out a shuddering sigh and met my gaze. Horror and pain swam in his eyes, but his voice was firm and sure. “You would have gotten yourself killed if I hadn’t. I had to choose between you and your father. I chose you.”

Who was this man who stood beside me? Was he the same man who’d gone ape shit over the death of Dr. Neely? He was the law-abiding citizen, the goody-two-shoes who always did the right thing. For Christ’s sake, he was the lawyer who hated lying!

I couldn’t deal with the paradox that was the man I’d thought I’d known, so I put some distance between us and nagged the cops to let me go home. Eventually, they did, after Adam pulled off my bumper so it wouldn’t drag. The car was driveable, and I promised I’d get it to the shop tomorrow. I didn’t offer to give Brian a ride home.

I probably wasn’t the safest driver on the road that night. Luckily, it was late and the streets nearly deserted, because I had barely a tenth of my concentration on the road. My brain was on betrayal overload, although both my betrayers tonight had no doubt thought they were doing the right thing.

I shook that thought off as soon as it crossed my mind. Killing Der Jäger might have been the right thing, and I could excuse Brian’s methods even if I couldn’t forgive them. But Lugh hadn’t had to put me in that damned oubliette, no matter how pissed off he might have been!

I had to keep you from breaking my control,
his voice whispered in my mind.
I didn’t do it to hurt you.

I almost rammed into a parked car. “Shut the fuck up!” I snarled. For once, he actually listened to me.

My intention had been to go home, crawl into bed, and sleep for as long as I could manage to stay unconscious. Usually, the more miserable I am, the more desperately I want to be alone. But just this once, I couldn’t stand the idea of being alone with my thoughts. I knew Andy hadn’t forgiven me for siccing Adam on him, but there was no one else I could go to for comfort just now.

It was almost three in the morning by the time I reached his apartment, but there was light shining under his door. I knocked softly, hoping not to wake any of the other residents.

He answered the door quickly enough to let me know he hadn’t been asleep, though he was dressed in pajamas and had a bad case of bed-head. He ushered me into his apartment without a word, which was a good thing because I couldn’t think of anything to say.

He disappeared into the kitchen, then returned carrying two glasses with a couple fingers of amber liquid apiece. I made a face because I hated the taste of hard liquor, but I took the glass when he handed it to me. We both drained the contents in a single gulp, though I coughed and sputtered for about ten minutes afterward.

When I finally had the air to speak again, I stared at the glass in my hands and asked, “Did Adam call you about…?”

I heard the sound of his glass clinking on the coffee table, but I couldn’t tear my gaze away from the single drop of liquid that remained in the bottom of mine.

“Yeah.” Andy’s voice sounded hoarse, either from sleep, from grief, or from hard liquor.

A tear rolled down my cheek and dripped into my glass. Andy gently pried the glass from my fingers, then put an arm around my shoulders. That was all the encouragement I needed to let down my guard, to let my grief and pain batter and buffet me. He held me and rocked me, the perfect big brother even though he must have been grief-stricken himself. After all, he’d never had the problems I’d had with our father, and had always been closer to him than I had.

“Tell me the whole story,” he urged when the storm seemed close to subsiding.

And so I did, my voice stuttering along between hiccups and sobs. I told him how Raphael had betrayed me to Der Jäger. I told him how Brian had betrayed me to Lugh. And I told him how Lugh had given me firsthand experience in the oubliette that Adam had once described to me.

When I thought of the oubliette, a hint of anger stirred in my center, fighting its way up through the grief, then taking hold and growing. I seized it with the desperation of a drowning woman. Anger is so much easier, so much more comfortable for me than grief. I wanted to get good and pissed, so that at least for a few minutes, I wouldn’t have to feel the pain.

“I will never forgive him for doing that to me,” I declared, and was more thankful than I could say that Lugh didn’t interject any commentary in my brain.

Andy met my eyes, his expression both grave and guarded. “He was doing what he thought was best.”

Outrage swelled in my chest. “Don’t you dare defend him! You’re supposed to be on
my
side.”

A faint smile curled his lips. “I
am
on your side. I’m just trying to point out—”

“No! I don’t care why he did it. I don’t care if it’s some kind of abstract ‘right thing.’ He used me, just like any other demon uses and abuses its host. He pretends he’s better than the rest of them, that he cares about human rights, and it’s all bullshit!” I heard my voice rising and forced myself to quiet down for the sake of the neighbors. “I used to think he was different. I was wrong.”

Andy shook his head. “Lugh
is
different. He’s one of the good guys, and I think you know it, even if you’re angry with him.”

Now I was beginning to be as pissed at Andy as I was at Lugh. “Last time I talked about Lugh, you were warning me to be careful of him and telling me he was just like all the rest. What’s gotten into you?”

He shrugged. “I just have a little more perspective now.” He fixed me with a pointed stare. “If I offered to take Lugh from you, would you do it?”

The question sucked all the air out of my lungs, and it took a moment for me to find my voice. “Are you offering?”

“Let’s say I am. Would you give him to me?”

My head felt about two sizes too big, and I couldn’t make sense of what was happening. Was he offering to take Lugh, or wasn’t he?

Andy smiled. “If you hated him as much as you claim, that wouldn’t be a hard question.”

I grunted. “I’m just trying to figure out if you mean it or not.”

He rolled his eyes. “You are such a hard case, Morgan.” He reached out and grabbed my hand. “Yes, I mean it. Will you give him to me?”

Lugh had to be in control to transfer to a different host, but all I’d have to do is take a little nap and Lugh could surface and move out of my life. “He might not leave me even if I tried to give him to you,” I said.

“Are you fooling yourself? Because you’re not fooling me. Will you give him to me?”

I swallowed hard. Andy had always wanted to be a hero. That’s why he’d chosen to be a demon host in the first place. After his experiences with Raphael, he’d seemed to have soured on the idea, but perhaps the desire was too deeply ingrained in him to disappear entirely. If he was determined to be a hero, he’d be a hell of a lot safer with a demon to protect his fragile human body.

And hell, after living with Raphael for ten years, living with Lugh would be a piece of cake. Yeah, I was mad at Lugh, but I had to admit that between him and Raphael, he was very much the lesser of two evils. I could let Andy be the hero he’d always wanted to be, and I could let my life return to a semblance of normalcy. Had it been only a week ago that Andy had awakened from his catatonia and I had dreamed of doing just that?

It was on the tip of my tongue to agree, to take the unbearably heavy burden on my shoulders and shrug it off onto someone else.

But as Lugh had reminded me more than once, there was so much more at stake than just my own life. Lugh might find it inconvenient that he couldn’t control me as he could any other human host, but there were advantages to our partnership. As long as I was his host, no one would ever be able to find him, because no one can tell I’m possessed. That wouldn’t be the case with Andy. I wasn’t only Lugh’s host, I was his refuge as well.

I shook my head at myself. Since Raphael had decided covering his ass was more important than saving his brother’s life, that line of reasoning no longer worked. For all I knew, everyone in the Demon Realm now knew exactly who was hosting Lugh.

I imagined what my life would be like if I gave him up—assuming said life didn’t get cut really, really short when the rebel demons burned me alive on the assumption that I still had him. I could go back to being nothing more than a simple exorcist. I could send predatory demons to the Demon Realm, where they could find their way back to the Mortal Plain at a moment’s notice.

Was that really meant to be the sum total of my contribution to the human race? And how could I possibly find any hint of satisfaction in my futile endeavor, when I’d always know I’d taken the coward’s way out and shoved my big brother into the line of fire in my place?

I let out a deep breath as something settled inside me and I felt almost calm for the first time in forever. “No,” I said softly. “No, I wouldn’t give him to you. He’s my cross to bear now, so to speak.”

Andy nodded sagely and let go of my hand. Luckily for both of us, he refrained from saying “I told you so.”

It was time—past time, really—for me to go home. But something about the expression on Andy’s face made me hesitate.

“What is it?” I asked, though I was pretty sure I didn’t want to know.

He ran a hand through his hair, scrubbing at his scalp and looking remarkably uncomfortable. “I have something I need to tell you, and you’re not going to like it. I was going to wait until a better time, but it occurs to me that the longer I put it off, the more you’re not going to like it.”

I groaned. Nope, definitely not something I wanted to hear. But of course, now that he’d dangled that little delicacy in front of my nose, I wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about it until I’d gotten the full story.