Speak of the Devil (28 page)

As if he hadn’t been interrupted, Raphael continued. “So my theory is that Abraham had some kind of terrible, long-standing grudge against Maguire’s demon. He probably had to bide his time for a long while until they were both on the Mortal Plain at the same time, in proximity to each other, and in an execution state.

“His plan seems to work like a charm, and his long-awaited revenge is on the verge of success. He knows Maguire’s demon is too powerful to be exorcized, and he’s just orchestrated the perfect murder. There’s no chance that he will pay the price for it,
since no one in the Demon Realm can possibly know what he’s done.”

I found myself nodding along with the explanation. “And then I came along, and instead of the demon being burned to death in Maguire’s body, I sent him back to the Demon Realm.”

“Where you can bet he’s informed the demon authorities of what Abraham tried to do. And if Abraham ever sets foot in the Demon Realm again, he will be imprisoned for all eternity, since our laws on murder are harsh. So not only did you foil his plan for revenge, you also condemned him to imprisonment—or permanent exile on the Mortal Plain.”

I remembered Hillerman’s almost manic giggle when he’d faced my confusion over his motive. When I’d thought he was only human, my assumption had been that he was a bit cracked. I don’t know why I hadn’t allowed for the idea that the demon might be a bit cracked himself.

I was pondering what good our newfound information about motive would do us when Raphael’s phone rang. He glanced at the caller ID, then frowned.

“Adam,” he informed us as he answered.

I joined him in frowning. Adam was supposedly staying as far away from this case as possible, and since he was at least slightly under suspicion—though it wasn’t clear suspicion of what—it didn’t seem like calling my hideout was the wisest move.

It didn’t take more than about two seconds for me to see that this was an emergency. Raphael’s face turned white, and his eyes widened. He dropped the phone and leapt to his feet, crossing the distance between us and grabbing me by the arm.

“Saul, stay here!” he ordered as he dragged me toward the door.

“What?” Saul and I chorused together.

“The police will be here any moment. You can’t be seen aiding and abetting, so
stay here!”
The last was a full-fledged bellow.

Saul looked as confused as I felt, but at least for the moment, he didn’t move. Raphael hauled me out the front door and slammed it behind him.

“What are you doing?” I gasped. His grip on my arm was so brutal my hand was falling asleep.

He didn’t answer, but we hadn’t gotten more than about twenty paces from the house before I understood. Three police cars were tearing down the street, sirens wailing. Raphael practically posed us under one of the streetlights, and before I could even blink, we were surrounded by shouting cops with guns.

If we’d stayed in that house even one or two more minutes, the cops would have stormed the place and found Saul as well.

“Still think Barbie’s pure as the driven snow?” Raphael inquired, but I didn’t get to answer, because I was being wrestled to the ground, even though I wasn’t resisting. And moments later, Raphael collapsed to the pavement as the cops Tasered him.

Raphael and
I were driven to the police station in separate vehicles, and once we got there, we were immediately separated. Luckily, it was Adam who took custody of Raphael. Since the police already knew he was possessed—Tommy was, after all, a legal, registered demon host—he would fall under the jurisdiction of Adam’s department.

I, on the other hand, belonged to the regular human homicide squad, and they were eager to book me. However, it appeared my arrest warrant came with a court-ordered examination by an exorcist. Pretty much standard procedure when the police haul someone in. They’d examine me before the whole booking procedure so that they’d know ASAP if they needed to take any extra precautions.

I was handcuffed to the table in a holding room, being watched by guards armed with Tasers, when the exorcist came in. It was something like three in the morning by now, and she looked like she’d been rousted from bed, her eyes heavy and kind of dull. She also looked like she might have graduated from high school approximately yesterday, and she was so
new on the scene that I’d never met her before. Of course, cream-of-the-crop exorcists don’t get shitty jobs like examining auras at oh-dark-thirty.

Being a newbie, she went with the whole formal ritual, complete with a circle of protection and chanted mumbo jumbo. She wouldn’t be able to see Lugh, because as long as I was in control, my aura overwhelmed his, so I wasn’t overly worried. I was just tired and depressed and scared, and I wanted this whole ordeal to be over with.

But as the baby exorcist sat down on the floor in front of me with her eyes closed and her palms turned up, Lugh’s voice spoke in my mind.

Trust me
, he said.

Before I could ask him what I was supposed to trust him about, he gently but inexorably pushed my consciousness aside and took control of my body.

I couldn’t give voice to the scream that wanted to erupt from my throat, nor could my pulse shoot up to red-alert speed, but that didn’t stop me from mentally screaming in Lugh’s ear.

What are you doing? You’re going to get us both killed!

I’ll explain later
, he said, his mental voice annoyingly calm and collected while I spiraled down into panic.
Just trust me
.

The exorcist clearly wasn’t expecting to find me possessed. I’m sure your normal illegal demon would be protesting wildly against the examination, trying to wiggle out of it, but I was just sitting there quietly, awaiting her verdict. When she saw Lugh’s aura, her eyes practically bulged out of her head, and she scrambled frantically away, her shoes slipping and sliding on the cold tile floor.

She didn’t officially pronounce a verdict, but the guards got the message loud and clear, and soon, my
body was limp and listing severely sideways, held up only by the handcuffs that attached me to the table. Both guards had shot, so there were four Taser probes sticking out of me. Lugh didn’t let me feel the pain of all that electricity running through my body, but that wasn’t much of a comfort.

We were up shit’s creek, and not only didn’t we have a paddle, our boat was taking on water by the gallon. There wasn’t an exorcist on the planet who was strong enough to exorcize Lugh. And if they couldn’t exorcize him, we were going to burn.

Relax, Morgan
, Lugh said, still absurdly calm. The guards were fitting him with a stun belt now, something that would allow them to control him even more easily than the Tasers.

You know how slowly the wheels of justice turn for humans. If we go into the human legal system, we could be in jail for months even if we’re eventually found not guilty. And you know how much faster everything works for demons
.

A pair of gloved and armored guards—every inch of skin covered so my demon couldn’t transfer out of me via skin-to-skin contact—were now dragging us through the hallway toward the demon containment area. There was practically a squadron of them surrounding us, Tasers drawn, ready to react to the slightest movement, though there was no way Lugh could so much as twitch voluntarily for another eight minutes at least.

Yeah
, I responded hysterically.
And that means we could be headed to the oven before twenty-four hours have passed!

Lugh’s mental voice was slow and patient, like he was explaining his plan to an idiot. Which maybe he was, but there’s nothing like the fear of being burned alive to hamper one’s mental processes.

No, we could be headed to an
exorcism
before twenty-four hours have passed. And when the exorcist says “abracadabra,” I’ll transfer you back into control. It will look for all the world like I’ve been exorcized
. Even though I was only hearing his voice, not seeing his face, I could sense him grinning.
And since I’ll confess to murdering Jack Hillerman and David Keller, you’ll be a free woman once I’ve been “exorcized.”

Okay, even in the midst of my panic, I had to admit, that was a pretty clever plan. But panic isn’t that easy to beat.

What if the exorcist isn’t fooled?

Lugh laughed at me.
What other possible explanation could she have for what happens? One moment, she sees a demon aura, the next, it’s gone. Obviously, her exorcism has succeeded
.

It was hard to argue his logic. It was also hard not to be terrified. But the die was well and truly cast, and we’d both better hope like hell his clever plan worked.

This was not the first night I’d ever spent in jail, nor was it the first night I’d spent in a demon containment cell. Containing a creature so strong it could probably juggle cars if they weren’t so awkward to grip isn’t what you’d call easy. The containment cells are barren white rooms, with vaultlike doors and steel-reinforced walls.

The stun belt was meant to assure my cooperation at all times, especially those times when someone had to open the cell door. I’d be ordered to the far side of the room, and if I didn’t comply…zap! But this meant I had to keep the stun belt on, and the only way they could be sure it stayed on was to keep me
under twenty-four-hour surveillance. The danger— and expense—of keeping a demon imprisoned was considerable. Do you begin to see why the wheels of justice turn at Daytona 500 speed where demons are concerned?

Lugh tried to give me back control as soon as we were safely locked away in our cell, but I was instantly hit with the delightful headache-and-nausea effect of repeated control changes, and Lugh took over once more.

Great idea, Lugh
, I complained.
I needed yet another control shift to make me feel oh-so-much better the next time
.

It would be rather difficult to explain why a demon is puking all over her cell
, he countered dryly.
Once I’ve been “exorcized,” you can explain your illness by saying you probably have the flu, but since demons don’t get sick…

I understood his point, but I was not a happy camper. I wasn’t sure my mental defenses would stay down long enough to let him be in control for hours on end, for one thing. Like I’ve said, I’m a control freak, and sitting around in the background of my own body was not at the top of my list of favorite things. It was going to take a massive effort of will for me not to try to fight my way back into the driver’s seat.

And I didn’t even want to know how sick I was going to feel when I was back in that proverbial driver’s seat.

Since I was now officially a prisoner of the Special Forces department, I wasn’t surprised to get a visit from Adam, who came to “question” me. He wasn’t in on the plan, of course, and Lugh couldn’t explain it to him straight out, seeing as we were being recorded on camera for posterity. (Actually, for the judge who
would be pronouncing the verdict sometime later in the day. Convicting demons was of such prime importance that even the weekend wouldn’t slow it down. There was rarely a doubt as to what the verdict would be in cases like this, anyway.)

Adam looked distinctly worried when he stepped into the cell. Lugh smiled at him.

“Some great demon cop
you
turned out to be.” Lugh managed to get a level of mockery into my voice that I probably never could have attained myself. And, I realized, it was a good thing he was in control, because he was a lot better at acting and lying than me. “All the time you spent with me, and you never even noticed when Morgan went bye-bye.”

Adam was keeping his distance, though he had the stun belt trigger in his hand and wouldn’t need to be particularly cautious even if I had been a hostile demon. He’s not exactly a pushover himself. His eyes were narrowed in concentration as he tried to figure out what Lugh was up to.

“And when was that, exactly?” he asked.

“During the exorcism she’s been taking so much heat for, of course,” Lugh responded, and I figured he’d gotten that idea from Barbie and her guesses.

Adam cocked his head to the side. “You mean she made the mistake of touching Jordan Maguire sometime before his demon—you, I gather—was exorcized?”

Lugh clapped like Adam had just performed a particularly impressive stunt. “Bravo! Give the man a gold star.”

“So you’re the one who killed Jack Hillerman and David Keller?” Adam asked, and though his change of expression was subtle, I could tell he’d caught on.

Lugh shrugged. “Hillerman was making my new
life … annoying. And Keller was trying to make it even worse. How did you find me, by the way?”

I doubted Adam would have answered that had Lugh been your average, everyday rogue demon, but I’m sure he knew how important that question was to both Lugh and myself. I could only think of two people who could have sent the cops our way: Barbie… and Brian.

I’d shown myself to be a lousy judge of character in the past, but I really hated the thought that I’d started to like Barbie and she might have betrayed me. Of course, I liked the idea of
Brian
doing it even less. And though he was angry with me and was usually a stickler for the letter of the law, I just couldn’t see him siccing the cops on me. Even
my
trust issues weren’t
that
bad.

“We got an anonymous call from The Seven Deadlies last night,” Adam said. “Your friend Tommy Brewster is a regular, so when the report came in that you were seen together, the police came to the natural conclusion that you might be hiding out at Tommy’s house.”

If I’d been in charge of my body, I’d have heaved a sigh of relief. I hadn’t been betrayed after all. I’d merely been recognized. Somewhat surprising, since I hadn’t seen a single police officer during Raphael’s and my foray. And it was downright odd that someone other than a cop would not only recognize me in disguise and in the dark of the club, but know I was a wanted criminal. The only person I’d seen at the club who actually knew me was Shae, and she’d have to be certifiably insane to risk Raphael’s wrath.