The Devil You Know (10 page)

I supposed the only reasonable thing to do was to search through the rest of the files, hoping to find something Dad missed. However, I wasn’t optimistic about my chances of success.

I was just bending to open Andy’s file when I heard the front door open and close. I froze.
Now
what?

Footsteps moved down the hall, and I realized at once that whoever this was, it wasn’t my mom or my dad. When they went to Spirit Society meetings, they went dressed in their Sunday best, which meant high-heeled pumps for my mom and leather-soled dress shoes for my dad. Whoever was in the house was wearing squeaky rubber soles.

Now I wished I’d brought the Taser with me, even if that would have meant leaving Andy vulnerable. My instincts insisted the intruder was one of the bad guys. I tried to convince myself I was just being paranoid because I was trespassing myself, but I didn’t believe it.

The hair on the back of my neck stood up when I heard those footsteps coming closer.

There was no exit from this room save the door, which would lead me straight into the intruder’s arms. And there were no closets or other convenient hiding places.

I backed to the far side of the room, searching frantically for anything I could use as a weapon. I almost laughed as I picked up the only thing I could find that was even remotely weapon-like—a letter opener. If I got attacked by a giant, rabid envelope, I was prepared.

The study door swung open, and an unfamiliar man stepped in. Dressed in faded, tattered jeans and a wife-beater that showed off about a zillion tattoos on each arm, he looked very much like your stereotypical city-dwelling predator. If this were someone else’s house—and someone else’s life—I might suspect he was a burglar, hoping to clear the place out while my parents were gone. But I knew that wasn’t the case even before he smiled at me.

“Ms. Kingsley, I presume?” he asked, and the voice sounded strangely cultured in that decidedly déclassé body.

I blinked and brandished the letter opener, feeling vaguely ridiculous. “Who the fuck are you?”

His smile stayed in place. “I’ll take that as a yes. And you might as well put your, er, weapon down. You won’t find it terribly useful against me.”

On the one hand, I couldn’t expect him to be intimidated by a letter opener. On the other hand, something about the way he said that made me think he wouldn’t be much more intimidated by a big-ass hunting knife. Which meant he was probably a demon. And considering what I’d learned from Raphael, I had a pretty good guess just which demon this was.

Of course, I wasn’t supposed to know anything about Der Jäger, so I didn’t let on that I had any idea who I was facing.

“I think I’ll keep it, thanks.” With my left hand, I rummaged in my purse, hoping to find my phone. I didn’t think I’d have an opportunity to call in the cavalry, but I figured there was no harm in trying.

Der Jäger kept smiling at me, but it was an eerie, cold smile. “Put it down, or I’ll be forced to take it from you. Trust me, you would not enjoy the experience.”

“You seem to know who I am,” I said as my questing fingers finally found the phone. I could hardly hear my own voice over the pounding of my heart, but bravado was so natural to me I was pretty sure I sounded less scared than I was. “If you know that, then you know I’m not just going to roll over for you.”

His smile broadened. “Yes. I was counting on that.”

I had just flipped open my phone when he flung himself at me. I was ready for him, so I made sure my makeshift knife was between us. He ignored it, slamming into me and knocking me to the floor, his own momentum forcing the letter opener in to the hilt.

My head slammed against the floor, and I wished my parents had opted for more padding under the carpet. Both my hands opened against my will. As I struggled for breath, Der Jäger grabbed my purse, flinging it across the room. The hilt of the letter opener protruded from his chest, just below his sternum, but though blood flowed from the wound, he didn’t seem to mind.

When I had enough wind to manage it, I struggled weakly. Pain stabbed through my eyeball.
Don’t you dare,
I mentally told Lugh.
He can’t possibly know you’re here, so don’t give yourself away.

It was quite a predicament. I was no use against a demon in hand-to-hand combat, but if I let Lugh take over—even presuming I was
able
to let him take over—we’d completely blow his cover. Unfortunately, if Der Jäger managed to kill me, not only would I be dead, but Lugh would be forced to abandon my body and return to the Demon Realm. Which would be all well and good if Dougal didn’t know Lugh’s True Name. But he did, so until we’d taken out Dougal, he could have his followers summon Lugh to the Mortal Plain at will—into a sacrificial lamb of a host who would be immediately burned at the stake, thus killing Lugh and letting Dougal claim the throne he coveted.

I kept struggling, but though I was strong and a passably good fighter, Der Jäger was unimpressed. He flipped me over onto my stomach, pinning my hands behind my back and sitting on me. His grip on my wrists was crushing, and I knew he could break the bones easily if he wanted to.

“Now that we’ve established that fighting me is not worth your while,” he said, “let’s have a nice chat.” Holding my wrists easily with one hand, he plucked the letter opener from his chest and dropped it to the floor by my face. Blood dripped from the blade, soaking into the beige carpet.

“Who are you?” I asked, though it was hard to talk with his weight on my back and my face pressed against the floor.

“That is irrelevant. Suffice it to say I am aware that you were once the host of a demon known as Lugh. I would like you to describe for me the host you transferred him to. And, of course, tell me his or her name.”

I could easily make up some bullshit description and name, but I had a feeling he would know it was bullshit if I gave in too easily. My stomach lurched as I wondered just how much abuse I would have to withstand before I could pretend to give him what he wanted. I certainly wasn’t under the impression that he was just going to ask nicely and then go away.

“You aren’t exactly endearing yourself to me. Why should I want to help you?”

His laugh was dark and made me shudder. “Do you have any idea what I can do to you if you annoy me?”

“I’m an exorcist, so yeah, I know what a demon is capable of. I also know there’s no way in hell the Society would have accepted the body you’re in as a host.” The Society favored the fit and attractive as hosts—not street punks like this guy. “Which means you’re an illegal. Which means you have the morals of a cockroach. Why should I believe talking will do me any good?”

My mind was still frantically searching for an escape route, but it wasn’t looking good at the moment. I was thoroughly pinned, and I wasn’t getting up until he let me.

Der Jäger slid lower down my body so that he was straddling my ass. He pressed down hard so I could feel that he was enjoying himself. I wished I could suppress my shudder, but I couldn’t. Der Jäger laughed.

“This body is infected with any number of diseases. Were I planning to use it for the long term, I would fix it, but I have not bothered. If I were to rape you, you would get them all, and eventually they would kill you.”

I closed my eyes and tried to control the panic. I didn’t give a shit about the diseases, figuring Lugh could cure them, but while I was to some extent prepared to deal with pain, I wasn’t so sure I could deal with rape.

If I blurted out a name and description now, would he believe me? Or did I need to let this go further before I caved? More important, would he actually let me go if I did? I remembered Raphael describing him as a sociopath, so if he was jonesing for me, he’d do whatever he damn well wanted to. A chill shivered through me as I realized the best way for him to get the information out of me was to transfer into my body and rape my mind. He didn’t seem to have any compunction about leaving brain-dead hosts in his wake. What would happen when he tried it and couldn’t get in was anyone’s guess.

Apparently, I was quiet too long. I was brought back to myself when he grabbed one of my hands with his free hand.

“You will tell me what I need to know,” he said, prying my clenched fingers apart and wrapping his hand around my pinkie. “If I’m pleased with you, I’ll let you go. I will give you no guarantees, however, except that if you refuse to talk, I will make you regret that decision.”

He jerked on my finger, hard, and I heard the bone snap at the same moment pain tore a scream from my throat. Sweat popped out over my whole body, and for a moment my vision swam. When it cleared, I still felt like I might barf. Who knew one tiny finger could cause so much pain? Lugh helped things along with another ice pick in the eye, but though I appreciated his desire to help me, I knew that keeping him hidden was far more important. No matter how pissed I was at him at the moment.

“Are you beginning to get the message?” Der Jäger asked.

“All right, all right. You win,” I gasped. Tears burned at my eyes, and for once I didn’t try to suppress them. I needed him to believe I was well and truly beaten, and if squirting out a few tears would help with the illusion, then I was willing to sacrifice a bit of my dignity.

“That was a foregone conclusion,” he said. “Now tell me the name of the human you transferred Lugh into.”

“Peter Bishop,” I said, improvising. “But Lugh had to know someone would come looking for him, so I doubt he stayed in a host I could identify.”

“Where might I find this Mr. Bishop? He may no longer be Lugh’s host, but perhaps I can persuade him to tell me who is.”

I was about to launch into a story about the fictional Mr. Bishop’s probable location when the doorbell rang. Unfortunately, Der Jäger reacted faster than I did, clapping a hand tightly over my mouth before I could scream for help. I made as much noise as I could, but I had no illusions anyone standing outside the house could hear me.

The doorbell sounded again, followed by the pounding of the knocker. Followed by a shout announcing the persistent visitor as police. I didn’t know what the police could be doing here—I was sure my parents didn’t have an alarm system that I tripped, and even if someone had heard me scream and called the police, there wouldn’t have been enough time for them to arrive.

Der Jäger continued to pin me and cover my mouth, his whole body tense. I suspect he was hoping the police would go away and let him go about his business, but the officer at the door knocked once again, and I heard a siren approaching. I tensed, even more sure Der Jäger was about to try to move into my body. And yet, he didn’t.

One of the questions that Raphael had refused to answer was how he had known that Lugh wouldn’t be able to control me the way demons can usually control their hosts. I was guessing that whatever that secret was, Der Jäger knew it, too.

“We will continue this discussion at some other time,” Der Jäger said. Then he grabbed me by the hair—a neat trick when my hair was so short—and slammed my head into the floor.

I didn’t lose consciousness, but my head swam. I felt the weight of his body leave my back. I made a feeble effort to grab at his ankle—with my left hand, where all the fingers were whole—as he moved past me, but it wasn’t like I could have stopped him even if I’d managed to get a grip.

Dizzy and nauseated, I raised my head and watched as he made his way casually toward the back of the house, where no doubt he intended to slip out the back door. I pushed myself up onto my hands and knees, trying to find the strength and will to shout some kind of warning at the police, but I was too shaky, so I collapsed.

From the back of the house, I heard a shout, then a gunshot. I lay on my back on the floor and held my breath, knowing just how much effect a gun would have on Der Jäger. I flinched when I heard a man’s high-pitched scream. Then I tried to get up again, and this time the blackness took me.

Nausea roiled in my stomach, and my broken pinkie throbbed like a sonofabitch. When I looked at it, I saw it was bent at an unnatural angle, and for a moment I seriously thought I would puke. Then I thought about what would happen if they took me to the hospital. Hours of my life ticking away while I waited my turn. X-rays. Poking and prodding. Realigning the bone, then splinting the finger. That didn’t sound like a whole lot of fun, so I carefully slid that hand into my jacket pocket. Even that small movement made me whimper.

A gun-totin’ policeman appeared in the doorway to the study. The moment he saw me, he aimed solidly at my chest and started shouting instructions at me—you know, the whole “put your hands on your head” routine. He looked seriously freaked out, like he might shoot me if I took a deep breath. I realized that with my hand in my jacket like that, I probably looked like I was going for a weapon.

I gave him woozy eyes for a moment, wondering if there was any way I could get out of showing him my hand. I was just determining the answer was no when Adam appeared in the doorway behind the cop.

“Stand down,” he ordered. “I know her. This is her parents’ house.”

“Sir?” the officer asked uncertainly.

“Put your weapon away,” Adam said more slowly.

The officer didn’t look like he was too happy with the idea, but Adam outranked him, so he did as he was told. He kept a wary eye on me as he holstered his weapon and backed out of the doorway. I didn’t look up, but I swear I could physically
feel
Adam glaring at me.

“You and I are going to have a long talk,” he told me.

“Peachy,” I said. I was so
not
looking forward to this conversation.

He came farther into the room, offering me a hand up. I ignored it and struggled to my feet. The motion jarred my finger, and the flash of pain almost took me back to the floor.

Adam frowned at me. “What’s with the hand?”

I supposed it looked pretty suspicious, me keeping my hand buried in my jacket like that. I lowered my voice so that only Adam could hear me. “Broken finger, and I don’t want anyone splinting it, if you know what I mean.”

As long as no one knew it was broken, Lugh could fix it as soon as I got somewhere private and managed to lose consciousness. I’d have to put a splint or bandage on it so as not to let Der Jäger know I was possessed if—or, more likely, when—we met again, but I could do that after the break healed. More sirens approached. Adam regarded me with interest and speculation in his eyes. Frighteningly, I knew him well enough to guess what he was thinking.

“You turn me in to the EMTs, and I will feed you your balls.”

He grinned. “It might almost be worth it.” The grin faded. “But I don’t think our little chat can wait until after the emergency room is done with you.” He moved closer still, and I had to fight an urge to back away.

“Let’s see how bad it is,” he said.

I considered my options and realized there were none. Reluctantly, carefully, I extracted my hand from my pocket. Every movement brought a new wave of pain. I didn’t want to look at the damage, but I couldn’t seem to stop myself, even though seeing my finger bending that way made me want to pass out.

Apparently, I didn’t know Adam as well as I thought—either that, or I was too addled by the blow to the head to guess what was coming.

He moved with lightning quickness, grabbing me, turning me around, and hauling me up against his chest. One hand clapped over my mouth, his fingers biting into the bruises Der Jäger and my father had left on me.

“Hold still,” he hissed in my ear. “This’ll be over in a second.” Then, still covering my mouth, he reached for my injured hand. I tried to jerk away, but he was too much bigger and stronger than me. He pulled my arm up against my body, then used his other elbow to pin me there. I closed my eyes and gritted my teeth, knowing I would not win this battle.

A white light flashed behind my closed eyes like lightning when he straightened my finger, realigning the bone. I was glad he had his hand over my mouth, because despite my gritted teeth I would have screamed my lungs out if I could.

“There,” he said, still holding me against him. “Now no one has to know it’s broken.”

He let me go, but not before I noticed he had a hard-on. And no, not because he thought I was such a hot chick that he couldn’t help being turned on by the body contact. I wanted to tear into him, but at that moment another man in blue came into the room, and they started doing the cop-speak thing.

Adam pulled a lot of rank to hurry me out of there with only a cursory statement, which he “took down” himself. I was sure he’d fill me in later on what I supposedly told him. He extracted me from the crime scene, guiding me to his unmarked. I’d ridden in the backseat before, but apparently I’d gotten a promotion and now got to sit up front.

I looked back at the house as we were pulling away and saw EMTs swarming over something in the back. I remembered the scream I’d heard when Der Jäger escaped. I figured some poor guy had been covering the back door, having no idea that what came out of it wouldn’t be human.

“Is he dead?” I asked Adam, craning my neck to keep the house in sight.

“No,” Adam said brusquely, turning a corner. “Not yet, unfortunately.”

I shuddered. I didn’t really want to know, but I couldn’t help asking. “What happened to him?”

Adam glanced at me from the corner of his eye, then fixed his gaze on the road once more. “He spilled his guts. Literally. Of course, he had some help.”

My stomach roiled at the image, my face going first cold, then hot. “Stop the car!”

He didn’t ask any questions, just pulled over to the curb and idled. I shoved the door open and puked into the gutter. I’m sure the nearby pedestrians were just thrilled with the show, but I couldn’t help it. I heaved until there was nothing left in my stomach.

When I thought it was safe, I slumped back into the car and pulled the door shut. I was shaking and sweating, exhausted like I hadn’t slept in weeks. And let’s not forget the persistent, throbbing pain that pulsed in time to the beat of my heart.

Adam handed me a handkerchief. “Sorry I don’t have any water to rinse out your mouth.”

I closed my eyes and laid my head back against the seat. At the moment, I had absolutely nothing to say. I didn’t even have the good sense to ask Adam where he was taking me. I tried to relax through my misery, hoping I could drift off long enough for Lugh to patch me up, but no such luck.

I didn’t open my eyes again until Adam brought the car to a stop. I looked around and saw we were in a parking garage. I made the logical assumption that this was the garage for my apartment building, and I thought longingly of my bed.

But of course I still had to have my “conversation” with Adam.

“How did you end up showing up just in time to save the day?” I asked.

“A call came in about a possible burglary in progress. The caller said a six-foot, red-haired woman seemed to be casing the house, then snuck in when the occupants left. I recognized the address and made an educated guess who the six-foot woman was. I figured whatever you were up to, it wasn’t something the regular police needed to know about, so I thought I’d swing by.”

I guess I hadn’t been too subtle when I hung around that little grocery store. Not that subtlety had ever been one of my strong suits. “I’m only five-nine,” I commented, but Adam didn’t seem amused.

“What were you up to? And what went wrong?”

The cat was well and truly out of the bag, so I figured there was no point in keeping the information to myself. I told him everything—about my mysterious hospital stay, about the files, about the letter from Bradley Cooper, about the pile of ashes, and about Der Jäger. And I tried not to think about the scream I’d heard, the scream of a man having his guts torn out by a demon. I swallowed hard and thanked my lucky stars my stomach was already on empty.

Silence reigned when I was finished. I stared out the windshield at the gray concrete wall and concentrated on breathing. At least I tried, though the steady throbbing of my finger was something of a distraction. And I couldn’t stop myself from thinking about Der Jäger’s parting shot. He and I had unfinished business. Oh, joy!

“Why didn’t you tell me any of this yesterday?” Adam asked. “We could have worked something out, gotten to those papers before your parents burned them.”

I turned my head to look at him. “Maybe I didn’t want to risk having my parents tortured to death if you weren’t satisfied with what you learned.”

“Ah,” he said, “this is still about Valerie.”

I reached for the handle of my door—with my left hand, of course—but Adam hit the locks.

“You’re never going to forgive me for that, are you?” he asked. “Even though you know I had no choice.”

I let out a heavy sigh. “My head knows you had no choice. My heart doesn’t give a shit.”

Would he figure he had no choice but to interrogate my parents now? And if he did, was there anything I could do to stop him?

I knew there wasn’t. God, how I hated feeling helpless! And I’d been feeling helpless far too often lately.

Once again, I reached for the door, hitting the unlock button. But before my hand got to the handle, the locks snicked shut again. If I wanted to get out, I’d have to use both hands simultaneously, and I couldn’t bear the thought of moving my right hand more than absolutely necessary. I glanced down at it and saw that while, thanks to Adam, the finger was straight, it was swelling up like the proverbial balloon.

“What are you planning to do now, Morgan?” Adam asked. “You can’t just go back to your apartment and resume life as normal. Not with Der Jäger still hunting you.”

I shuddered. “Like my life has been anything like normal lately.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Yeah, I know.” I turned to face him. “What would you suggest? What can a puny human being do to protect herself from a rampaging demon?”

“Well for one thing, you can come stay with me and Dom.”

My eyes widened. I’d gone that route before—not of my own free will, I might add—and I hadn’t enjoyed the experience. “Yeah? And you’re going to hang around and guard me 24/7? Might get in the way of your job just a bit, don’t you think?” He didn’t have a quick comeback for that one, so I continued to press. “Look, I live on the twenty-seventh floor. The only way Der Jäger can get to me is through my front door, right? He can’t fly or climb up the outside of buildings like a spider.”

Adam nodded his reluctant agreement.

“Remember, I have a Taser. And for the moment, I have a roommate. As long as we guard the door, there’s no way Der Jäger can get to me without getting zapped.”

Adam looked like he still really hated this plan—or lack thereof—but he didn’t seem to have a better suggestion. “Don’t leave the apartment without me,” he ordered. “I’ll come back as soon as I’m off duty and we’ll see if we can cobble together a plan.”

I didn’t much like his tone of voice, but for once I managed to stifle my rebellious response. I wasn’t stupid enough to think I could take on Der Jäger and win.

“Okay,” I said.

Adam gave me a suspicious look. “That was too easy.”

I shook my head. “I’ve met Der Jäger up close and personal. I
so
do not want to meet up with him again in some dark alley.” I forced a bit of a smile. “Besides, I’m getting better about accepting help when I need it.”

The look he gave me said he still didn’t trust me, but this time when I reached for the door, he let me open it.

“I’ll walk you to your apartment,” he said, getting out of the car.

Again, I had to swallow the urge to tell him to back off. I reminded myself that I didn’t have a Taser on me, and I didn’t have a death wish.

“Thanks,” I said through gritted teeth. Then, as we walked toward the elevator, a very disquieting thought struck me. “Could you beat Der Jäger in a fight?”

I looked at him out of the corner of my eye and saw the sudden tightness of his expression.

“I don’t know,” he finally answered. “But I could at least hold him off long enough for you to get away.”

There wasn’t much to say after that, so we walked the rest of the way to my apartment in silence.