Jenna Black - Speak of the Devil

As king of the demons, Lugh was entitled to know the True Name of all his subjects who had earned one. If he knew a demon’s True Name, he could summon that demon to him from anywhere in the Demon Realm. That humans could use True Names to summon demons to the Mortal Plain was merely a… side effect. Lugh could have forced his brothers to reveal their True Names, but, in a moment of naiveté, he’d chosen not to, hoping his act of trust would repair their fraternal relationship. Instead, it had given Dougal the power he needed to launch his palace coup.

“So what is it you’ve figured out now that you didn’t know then?” I prompted when Lugh fell silent.

He shook his head, and I got the feeling he was shaking off memories. “You were right to think that Raphael always has some way to justify his actions, at least to himself. I don’t think he would have killed Delilah like that for the sole purpose of angering me. But since, at the time, we were practically at war with one another, it never occurred to me that he might have done it for my sake.”

My eyebrows shot up, and I sat up straight, turning my body to fully face Lugh on the couch. “How the hell could that possibly have been for your sake?” I asked, my outrage clear in my voice.

Lugh’s head dipped, his eyes now focused on his knee. He must have been really uncomfortable; it wasn’t like him to avoid eye contact.

“Demons don’t marry like humans do,” he said. “We do form lasting relationships—it’s just that there’s no formal acknowledgment of them. So, while we don’t actually marry, it would be accurate in human terms to think of Delilah as my wife.”

“Okay,” I said, giving him a keep talking gesture, which he probably didn’t see, since he still wasn’t looking at me.

His voice dropped until it was so low I had to lean forward to hear him. “What usually happens eventually when a man and a woman marry?”

It shows the frame of mind I was in that I didn’t even consider some kind of smart-ass quip. “They have children,” I answered, and Lugh nodded. I continued the thought. “But if you had a child with Delilah, you would have contributed a hell of a lot more energy than Raphael did.”

He nodded again. “It would have been the only honorable thing to do. Besides, I wouldn’t have wanted to risk hurting her.”

And now the lightbulb finally turned on over my head. “And how long would you have been … depleted?” I remembered Adam saying something about centuries, but it was hard to believe.

“Believe it,” Lugh said. “If Delilah and I had had a child, I would still be … very weak. It’s virtually impossible for demons to kill one another in the Demon Realm—unless there’s a huge disparity in power. I’d have handed Dougal the opportunity he needed to destroy me, and he would now be sitting on the demon throne as king, rather than regent.”

I chewed that over for a while. “So you think even back then, Raphael knew that Dougal was going to make a try for the throne?”

Lugh nodded. “He even warned me of it, though of course I didn’t listen. I thought he was just trying to stir up trouble. As much as Dougal and I have disagreed on political issues, I never believed he would try to take the throne.”

As you may have gathered by now, I am not the most sensitive, compassionate woman in the world. But even I could tell that Lugh was hurt and bewildered by it. For all that we’d talked about defensive strategies and plans to right the wrong, we’d never talked about how Lugh felt when his brother betrayed him. I knew how awful it had felt when my best friend had betrayed me and tried to have me killed. How much worse would it be if it had been my brother?

Once again, Lugh didn’t bother to pretend he didn’t know my thoughts. “I am more disillusioned than hurt,” he said. “Dougal and I have never been close, so I don’t take his attack personally.”

“Huh. You know how you always get on my case for lying to myself? Well, I don’t have to be a demon in control of your body to recognize it when I see it.”

Lugh actually winced. “I am a king. My feelings are irrelevant.”

I wasn’t sure I followed his logic, but I didn’t much care. I did the unthinkable and moved a little closer to him on the couch, laying a sympathetic hand on his arm. “Your feelings aren’t irrelevant to me.”

As soon as I said it, I wished I could suck the words back in. What kind of an idiot says something like that to a man she’s trying to hold at arm’s length? Never mind that with him in my body, I couldn’t actually do it.

I moved away from him with a little groan, and I covered my eyes with my hand as I cursed myself. Maybe I should take lying lessons from Raphael. I was pretty sure that part of being a good liar was knowing when to keep your mouth shut. And, of course, the poker face I didn’t have.

Lugh chuckled. “Lying to me would do you no good.” He drew my hand away from my eyes. I made the mistake of meeting his gaze and found I couldn’t look away.

“You can’t hold me at arm’s length, Morgan. And you can’t lead me on. What you choose to say doesn’t matter.” His voice gentled even further. “You can’t choose what to feel, either. Life would be very much easier if we could direct our feelings, but even demons can’t do that.”

My pulse quickened, and there was a pleasant fluttery feeling in my belly. He hadn’t let go of my hand, and I was suddenly intensely aware of the warmth of his skin against mine. I swallowed hard.

In the World According to Morgan Kingsley, the fact that I was in love with Brian should have deadened my sexual attraction to every other male of the species. Sure, I could find them pleasing to look at. I could even entertain a fantasy or two. But I shouldn’t want them, not the way I wanted Lugh.

“Feelings don’t respond to ‘should’ and ‘shouldn’t,’” Lugh reminded me.

“God damn it!” I said, finding the will to yank my hand from his grip. “Stop responding to my thoughts! Can’t you at least give me the illusion of privacy?”

He raised one shoulder in a delicate shrug. “That would be a form of deception.”

I snorted. As far as I could tell, Lugh had never outright lied to me, but he was perfectly capable of deceiving me. “So what?”

“So that deception would serve no purpose except to anger you when you find yourself believing the illusion.”

Against my better judgment, I liked Lugh. But at times like these, I’d have happily strangled him.

“Has it ever occurred to you,” he continued, “that the reason you’re so attracted to me is precisely because your mind is completely open to me? I know your thoughts, your feelings, your fantasies, your secrets. And knowing all that, I still want you.”

I jerked awake. It was the first time in a long while I had woken up from one of Lugh’s dreams without making a conscious effort. I sat up abruptly in bed, my skin clammy as I shivered in the air-conditioned chill of my apartment. I pulled my knees up to my chest and wrapped my arms around my legs. Lugh’s words echoed in my mind, repeating endlessly. I wanted to shut the words out, to force my mind away from them. Because Lugh, damn him to hell, had struck at what he knew was a weakness in my emotional armor.

To the outside world, I came off as bold, confident, even cocky. But I carry around a hell of a lot of baggage, and it’s stuffed to bursting with insecurity and self-doubt. That baggage kept me from fully committing to—or opening up to—Brian. I couldn’t help being terrified of what Brian would think of me if he really knew me, couldn’t help fearing that he would eventually wise up and discover that he was too good for me.