The Devil's Due (26 page)

Every exorcist has an image he or she uses to help visualize casting out a demon. Mine is wind. I gathered that will into my body, and then all at once released it in a great gust of gale-force wind. The wind of my will slammed into Tommy’s demon-red aura.

For a moment, the aura clung stubbornly. Then the pressure of the wind became too much. The red aura shattered and was swept away, leaving only a very human shade of blue behind. Letting out a breath of relief, I opened my eyes.

But then I looked into a pair of hate-filled, obviously sentient eyes that bored into mine.

Tommy Brewster wasn’t brain-dead, or even brain damaged. And boy, was he ever pissed.

To show his great gratitude to me for freeing him from the demon, Tommy launched himself across the short distance that separated us. I’d been expecting a vegetable, not a homicidal maniac, so I was completely unprepared for the attack. Before I’d even managed a squeak of alarm, he’d knocked me flat on my back and wrapped both his hands around my throat. He started to squeeze, his eyes wide and hysterical-looking as he shouted Bible verses. It didn’t take a Biblical scholar to notice he was mixing and matching verses at random, but then most of his concentration was focused on the important task of choking me to death. I was starting to see spots by the time he suddenly screamed and went limp on top of me.

Holding the stun belt trigger, Raphael came to stand over the two of us, looking disgustingly amused. “You make a lovely couple,” he said, and I remembered that Tommy was naked. I shoved him away from me, and though he was conscious and tried to keep his hands on my throat, he was too stunned to manage it.

I lay there on my back and breathed. I was going to have yet another set of bruises if I didn’t give Lugh a chance to fix things. Tommy was shouting so loud I could hardly hear myself think. Something about hellfire and brimstone.

If he’d kept that up, I might have been happy to give him to the demons just to shut him up. As it was, the invective gave way to sobs, and pity reared its ugly head. I didn’t know what Tommy had just gone through in the clutches of that demon, but clearly it hadn’t been a good time. It seemed like something of a miracle that his mind had survived. Perhaps his childhood trauma had left him stronger and more resilient than your average human. Or perhaps his fanaticism had served as some kind of shield. After all, there’s a reason we call people like him “closed-minded.”

“I am unclean,” I heard him hiccup among the sobs.

At first I thought he was talking about the gas and piss on him. Then I remembered what I knew about the World According to God’s Wrath. They hated human hosts as much as they hated the demons, because they believed that only a corrupt soul would allow a demon in. It even made a little sense, when you’re talking about legal demons. After all, they’re “legal” because they’ve been invited. But God’s Wrath hated even those who were taken by force, and despite his convictions, Tommy would never be able to return to them.

Fingering my aching throat, I sat up and stared at Claudia Brewster’s son. He’d faced more hardship in his twenty-one years than most people faced in a lifetime. Could I really condemn him to a lifetime of possession now that he was free? I wished he’d attack me again, or at least start raving like the lunatic that he was so I could stop feeling so goddamn sorry for him. But he didn’t. He just lay there on the floor in the fetal position and wept.

Raphael, still holding the trigger, squatted down to meet my eyes. I found I couldn’t look away.

“Let me take him,” he said softly, and only the dilation of his pupils gave away how eager he was. “He’s the only person in this room who could walk right into Claudia Brewster’s house without causing a raised eyebrow. He can get us in there, and we can get those children out.”

“You’re not doing this because you want to save those children,” I said. I didn’t know what Raphael really wanted, but he didn’t do much of anything out of the goodness of his heart.

“He’d be just as able to get us in there if he was hosting Saul,” Adam said.

I hadn’t heard him approach, but he was standing practically on top of me. I didn’t think this was a decision I should make sitting down, so I forced myself to my feet. Both Adam and Raphael tried to help steady me, but I snarled at them until they let go.

“Take a good look at him,” Raphael said, and we all did. He hadn’t let up on the sobbing yet. “Do you really think you can get him to speak the incantation to summon Saul?”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “You got
me
to summon Lugh!”

“Because I drugged you and knew you well enough to get through your defenses. Tommy wouldn’t be that easy, and you know it. How much time do you think those kids have? Enough time for me to break Tommy and to make him speak the incantation? I doubt the demons will keep them alive long when Tommy goes AWOL on them.”

“Shut up! You’ve made your point.”

“Besides, I bet we can find a good host for Saul.” He looked up at Adam. “Surely you can find someone at that club you’re so fond of. Someone who’s too homely to be a host, but would really like to be. And who shares Saul’s unique tastes.”

Adam didn’t say anything, but I could tell he was thinking it over. It seemed Tommy would not be Saul’s host. But it remained to be seen whether he would be Raphael’s. Raphael didn’t need an invitation to take him over. Once on the Mortal Plain, a demon can transfer from one host to another through physical contact. All it would take was the slightest brush of skin against skin, and Tommy would be gone once more. And my brother would be back.

“You have to decide, Morgan,” Raphael urged. “And the sooner you decide, the sooner we can get those kids to safety.”

I hated this. I was going to hate myself, whatever I decided. “Is this what Andy wants?” I asked, meeting Raphael’s gaze and wishing his face were as open as mine.

Raphael blinked as if startled by the question. Then he shrugged. “He would never admit to wanting it. He’s far too noble for that.” In Raphael’s mouth, “noble” sounded like a dirty word. “But down beneath his civilized exterior, he wants it quite desperately.”

I supposed that had been rather a silly question. Whatever Andy might choose if he actually had a choice, it was inevitable that deep down inside he would wish for freedom. So much for my attempt to put this decision on Andy’s shoulders.

I took another look at Tommy, tried to imagine what his life would be like if we just let him go home now. Then I shook my head at myself. It didn’t matter if his life would suck or not. I could justify this till the apocalypse, and it wouldn’t change the reality. When faced with the choice between my brother and a stranger, I was going to choose my brother—even if I thought my choice was morally wrong. I reminded myself to apologize to Brian for not fully understanding his decision to help Lugh kill my father.

I couldn’t force any words out of my mouth, but I managed a nod. My eyes burned, and I was gritting my teeth so hard my jaw ached.

Obviously, Tommy had been too sunk in misery to listen to our conversation or realize that it had to do with him. When Raphael came to squat beside him, he didn’t move.

“Wait!” I cried as Raphael reached out to touch him. I could see him fight the urge to ignore me, and was actually rather impressed when he dropped his hand away from Tommy’s bare flesh.

“I just want to remind you—if Andy comes out a vegetable, I’m going to skin you alive, and damn the consequences.”

Raphael’s shoulders drooped with relief. He must have thought I’d changed my mind. “Have no fear,” he said, his hand moving toward Tommy once more. “He’s fine. As he’ll tell you in a moment.”

My conscience screamed as Raphael’s hand brushed over Tommy’s shoulder. Instantly, Tommy stopped his sobbing. Andy looked up at me, and it was my brother whose eyes met mine, not Raphael. I guess I was relieved Raphael had been telling the truth for once, but I felt too guilty to rejoice. Andy, not looking any happier than I felt, lowered his gaze to the floor.

Raphael unfolded Tommy’s body and rolled to a sitting position. He didn’t seem to care that his new body was naked, but Dom said, “I’ll go see if I can find you something to wear.”

“Thanks,” Raphael said, and he flexed his hands experimentally, familiarizing himself with his new anatomy. He and Andy shared a look I couldn’t interpret, and then Andy stood up and backed away from him.

I wanted to run to Andy, to throw my arms around him and welcome him back, but he wouldn’t even look at me. I suppose his conscience wasn’t feeling too frisky, either. I didn’t know what to say, so I just stood there in brooding silence and waited for Dom to return with the clothes.

“Mind if I take a quick shower?” Raphael asked Adam.

“Suit yourself,” Adam replied. The look on his face was not a happy one, but he wasn’t as pissed off about being Tasered as I would have been in his position. “Bathroom’s down the hall on the left.”

“What happened to your desperate hurry to rescue the children?” I asked, and I didn’t give a damn how suspicious I sounded.

It didn’t seem to matter what face Raphael wore. He was always good at the marrow-chilling glare, the glare that always made me think there was something evil behind those eyes. “I think it would be a tad suspicious if I showed up at the house smelling like gas and piss, don’t you?”

He had a point, but hell if I was going to admit it.

When we got to the house, Raphael would insist I be taken downstairs into the basement with the children. That was about as far as our plan went. We didn’t know what we would find when we got there, didn’t know if the children would be restrained, didn’t know for sure how many demons would be there, didn’t know how careful they might be. If we could get to the girls before the demons did, and if it seemed likely we could extract them without too much danger, we’d just go for it. I’d seen Raphael fight before, and I had every confidence he could hold off the bad guys with ease while I spirited the children away.

But what were the chances the demons would make it that easy for us? With the way my life was going these days, we’d be lucky not to find an entire demon regiment camped out at that house. If it turned out we couldn’t get to the girls without endangering them, we’d have to wing it.

I found myself wishing that it would be Adam by my side for this adventure rather than Raphael. True, I didn’t like Adam. But I trusted him, which was more than I could say for Raphael. It seemed like a bad idea to wing it with someone I didn’t trust, but that was my only option.

I gave careful consideration to the idea of calling Brian before I left. I’d already more than broken my promise to call him if there were any new developments. I told myself I didn’t want to worry him, but in reality I just didn’t have the emotional energy to deal with all the explaining I’d have to do—nor did I have the courage to listen to his objections, of which he was sure to have many. After all, everyone else did.

No one liked the idea of me being directly involved in the rescue, even Raphael, who’d come up with the plan in the first place. Anything that involved risk to me involved risk to Lugh. But it seemed unlikely Raphael could manage a rescue all by himself. Not to mention that I didn’t trust him enough to let him go alone. For all his seeming hurry to launch the rescue, I
knew
there was something else behind it all. I wished I knew what, but he wasn’t telling, and guessing wasn’t helpful.

Raphael rummaged through Tommy’s memory until he discovered where his car was parked. He had to fish Tommy’s wallet and keys out of the trash bag, but though he made prissy faces about it, he took them.

Adam and Dominic saw us to the door, Andy following behind them looking a little like a lost soul. I didn’t like the way he looked, wished I had time to talk to him. Maybe we could help each other deal with our consciences. But that would have to wait.

Adam drove Raphael and me to Tommy’s car, then dropped us off with stern instructions that Raphael keep me—actually, Lugh, but we were one and the same at the moment—safe. Tommy’s car turned out to be an aging black Corolla sporting an impressive collection of dents and scratches. It wouldn’t have looked out of place up on cinder blocks on a redneck’s lawn, and I wasn’t looking forward to riding in it. I leaned against the passenger door as Raphael unlocked it, my suspicions about him gamboling playfully in my chest.

“Can you find out from Tommy how he ended up ‘volunteering’ to be a host?” I asked.

He shook his head as he walked around the front of the car to the driver’s side. “He was definitely already possessed when he arrived at the courthouse. Some guy brushed against him one day when he was standing in line at Starbucks, and before he knew what hit him, he was on his way to file the paperwork.”

I suppressed a shudder. It was so damn easy for a corporeal demon to take a new host! Everyone was vulnerable. Except me, of course.

I was about to get into the car when there suddenly came a spike of pain through my eye. I winced and hissed. It let up immediately. I knew Lugh was trying to tell me something, though I didn’t know why he didn’t just come out and say it. He seemed to be able to do that much of the time lately. Of course, perhaps my less-than-happy thoughts about demons had put my subconscious back on alert.

Raphael, who’d already gotten into the car, leaned across the seat and looked up at me. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know,” I answered, scanning the area for anything that might have upset Lugh.

We were in a small private lot on Lombard Street, near The Seven Deadlies. It was getting pretty late, and although South Street was just a block away, here on Lombard it was pretty quiet. Which made it a little easier for me to spot the source of Lugh’s concern.

“Shit!” I said, then said it again, just because.

“What?” Raphael asked, getting out of the car and looking alarmed.

I jerked my chin toward Reporter Barbie, who exited her car now that she’d been spotted. “We’ve got company,” I said grimly. “She’s a reporter.”

“In the mood for a nice car chase?”

I bit my lip, tempted to agree. We could get into the car and put the pedal to the metal faster than Barbie could get back into hers. Maybe we’d be able to lose her immediately. But maybe not.

I sighed heavily. “I don’t think drawing that much attention to ourselves would be a great idea,” I said. “We’ll just have to get rid of her somehow.”

“I’m sure we’ll manage something.”

I glanced at him sidelong and shivered. I didn’t like the way he was looking at Reporter Barbie, but before I had a chance to warn him to behave, she’d caught up to us.

Barbie smiled, looking for all the world like she expected me to be happy to see her.

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t call the police and report you as a stalker,” I growled at her.

She blinked. “There’s no need to be so hostile. I’m just doing my job.”

Ah, yes, the excuse of sleazy reporters everywhere. Not that I had any reason to believe Barbara What’s- Her-Name was a sleazy reporter. She hadn’t really done anything
that
obnoxious—yet—and not all reporters are sleazy. Just like Brian reminds me every once in a while that not all lawyers are sleazy. But old stereotypes die hard, especially when they’re in the process of inconveniencing me.

“I’m not answering your questions, so go do your job elsewhere.”

Barbie’s glance flicked to Raphael, who was doing a great job of mimicking Tommy’s sullen look. Then she looked back at me and raised her eyebrows. “You seem to have become exorcist to the rich and famous. Care to comment?”

I’d forgotten that Tommy’s father was old money, putting him in the same league as good ol’ Jordan Maguire Jr. Crap. I imagined this would be a fascinating coincidence to anyone with a journalistic mind.

“I’m a legal, registered demon,” Raphael said calmly. “And clearly Ms. Kingsley is not exorcizing me or we’d be in the basement of the courthouse and I’d be in lots and lots of restraints.”

I wished he’d kept his mouth shut. Engaging Reporter Barbie in conversation of any kind was a bad idea. But too late now.

“But there were some questions that arose at the time of your summoning. Claudia Brewster alleges that you have taken her son against his will. And I know that she has hired Ms. Kingsley to look into the case.”

This was just getting better and better. I knew denying it wasn’t going to do any good, but my reflexes kicked in. “She didn’t hire me to do anything.” I sounded pissed even to my own ears, which was not a good thing. It let Barbie know she was getting to me, which would just make her more curious. I made a concerted effort to calm my voice. “She consulted with me to see if I could find any evidence that Tommy was taken against his will. I told her I couldn’t, and that was that.”

“Then what business do you have with Mr. Brewster at the moment?”

A perfectly logical question—and evidence that I’d been right in my conviction that both Raphael and I should keep quiet.

I was still struggling to find an answer when Raphael took a step forward, invading Barbie’s personal space. His new host wasn’t quite as tall or imposing as most demon hosts, but he was able to look down on her from a significant height advantage.

“
Our
business is none of
your
business, Ms… . ?” “Paige,” she supplied. “Barbara Paige. I work for the—”

“I don’t care who you work for.” Raphael’s voice was outwardly calm, but still intimidating as hell. “You’re getting on my nerves, and that isn’t in your best interests.”

Raphael radiated so much menace any sane person would have tucked her tail between her legs and bolted. Barbie apparently wasn’t sane. She held her ground, and didn’t even look particularly uneasy.

“I don’t think threatening me is in
your
best interests, Mr. Brewster.” She put her fists on her hips and met his glower with a blandly calm expression.

Raphael blinked, startled that she’d called his bluff. He stared at her for a moment, then looked over at me.

“Get in the car,” he said.

It sounded suspiciously like an order, which of course made me want to dig in my heels and refuse. Common sense prevailed, however, and I turned my back on Barbie and opened the door. Raphael had already gotten in, and Barbie had started running back to her car. Luckily, she was wearing businesslike pumps that weren’t optimal running shoes.

Raphael stomped on the gas pedal before I even managed to close the door behind myself. He peeled out of the parking lot with a squeal of rubber, the car jouncing hard over one of Philly’s ubiquitous potholes. I struggled to get my seat belt on as he blew through a red light.

The expression on his face was grim, and he didn’t slow down, even when I looked back over my shoulder and told him I didn’t see Barbie’s car following us.

“Take it down a notch,” I said, bracing my hands on the dashboard as another pothole threatened to break the POS into bite-sized pieces. “We’ve lost her, and I doubt she’s going to be willing to break as many traffic laws as you are.”

“She’s not a reporter,” he said, screeching the car around a corner.

“What?”

“She’s not a reporter,” he repeated. “I was thinking it was strange that she was being so aggressive over such a nothing story. I thought it was even stranger that she didn’t bat an eyelash when I started crowding her.” His lips thinned. “Then when she put her hands on her hips, I got a glimpse of a shoulder holster under her jacket.”

“Oh shit.”

“Yeah. I don’t know who she is, or what she wants, but I’d say staying away from her is a really good idea.”

“I agree,” I said as my stomach decided it objected to the rough handling it was getting as we bounced and rocked down the street at warp speed. “But if you don’t slow down, we’re going to get stopped for speeding, and that could give her time to catch up with us.”

To my immense relief, the car slowed to near the speed limit. But I couldn’t help noticing he kept a watchful eye on the rearview mirror as we made our way out of town.