Jenna Black - The Devil's Due

Adam put his cup down and leaned toward me, anger glinting in his eyes. “I am not cheating on Dom,” he snarled. “And with your charming personality, you’ll have him clammed up and suspicious within the first five minutes. If I take him down into Hell, I can get him into a frame of mind where he’s not thinking straight. And since I’m a police officer, I can act on it if he tells me something he shouldn’t. You’ve done your part by bringing the case to me. Now stay out of it like a good little exorcist and let me handle it.”

I was getting pretty damn tired of being told to stay out of it, but for once my common sense spoke up in time, and I kept that thought to myself. I doubt Adam expected me to heed his warning, but I didn’t think arguing about it was going to help my case.

“Fine,” I muttered, slurping down more coffee. “You go on back to Hell. It’s where you belong anyway.”

I stood up, meaning to make a dramatic exit, but Lugh sent a stab of pain through my eye, and I stumbled. I almost pitched face-first into Adam’s lap, but with demon-quick reflexes, he caught me. For a moment that felt like forever, I looked into those dark brown eyes, my nose inches away from his. I caught the scent of the spicy aftershave he favored, and beneath that, a salty undertone that reminded me of an ocean breeze. Despite my dislike of him, despite his sexual habits, despite him being a demon, I had to admit to myself that he was one hell of a sexy specimen of manhood. Against my every wish, images flashed through my mind. Images of Adam, naked and aroused, images of him with Dom, images of—

With a jerk, I shoved myself away from him, shutting down that line of thought with all the ferocity I could. I did not want to think of Adam that way. I was already in love with Brian and in lust with Lugh. I didn’t need any more. . complications.

One corner of Adam’s mouth rose in a half-smile, but it wasn’t a nice expression. There was no question in my mind that no matter how much I wanted to deny it to myself, Adam knew I found him attractive. I had a distinct feeling he would use his knowledge against me if he had half a chance.

Knowing that anything I said would just make things worse, I settled for shaking my head before I turned on my heel and strode to the door. Lugh did the eye-stab thing again, but it was merely a brief annoyance. It wasn’t like this was a battle I could win. No matter how much caffeine I ingested, eventually I would fall asleep and he would take over. But eventually was better than now.

Wondering how I was going to keep myself occupied during the wee hours of the morning, I made my way back to the garage to retrieve my car.

It was past four when I finally let myself into my apartment, so I didn’t have as many wee hours to kill as I’d expected. The day was getting a head start toward being really shitty. On my way home, I’d gotten pulled over for speeding. Naturally, the cop who pulled me over was female and not a good candidate for the eyelash batting that had gotten me out of tickets with the testosterone brigade. I wasn’t really going that fast, but I guess she was bored and I made an easy target. Always happy to help our women in blue pass the time.

I shoved the speeding ticket into a drawer with my growing pile of unpaid bills and then made myself a pot of coffee. My body ached for me to throw myself onto the bed and sleep for a week, but this was a case of mind over matter, and I wasn’t going to give in.

I had to find a way to keep myself busy, otherwise the lure of sleep would be too much to resist, but I couldn’t think of anything useful to do on the Brewster case. I could drop by Tommy’s apartment again, but I didn’t think it would do me much good. Besides, I had semi-promised Adam I’d let him handle things. Not that I felt particularly bound by that promise, but I figured it would be decent of me to at least let him make first contact. Besides, for all I knew, he’d gone back to the club last night and convinced Tommy to confess everything.

I settled for going in to the office again. This would be two times within the space of one week. I was being positively productive! Of course, I hadn’t gotten much work done the last time, Claudia Brewster’s visit having thoroughly interrupted my efforts.

Doing paperwork wasn’t the best way to keep myself awake, I realized a couple of hours later as my eyes crossed and my mind wandered. I took an extended break to get a grande cappuccino with an extra shot of espresso from the nearest Starbucks, and felt marginally more alive after my first few sips. I had almost psyched myself up for the singularly unpleasant task of chatting up my insurance company when I stepped off the elevator into the hallway leading to my office. I was spaced out enough that I took two more long strides toward my door before I noticed the figure standing before it.

In the pictures Claudia had shown me, Tommy looked like a typical sulky, rebellious teenager. Unkempt hair. Ill-fitting pants. Face fixed in a longsuffering expression that said his life was fucked up beyond recognition, but somehow he’d manage to muddle through.

Apparently, demonic possession agreed with him. He still wasn’t exactly what you’d call a snappy dresser. His jeans were baggy, the fraying cuffs dragging on the floor, and his T-shirt had probably once been black but had been washed so many times it was an uneven and particularly unattractive shade of gray. But he carried himself entirely differently. His shoulders were straighter, his posture more confident, his expression much. . older.

He was leaning casually against the wall, arms crossed over his chest as he watched me approach. I had no idea what he wanted, but I made an educated guess and decided it wasn’t anything good. I shifted my coffee into my left hand, then reached into my purse and fished out my Taser, arming it while keeping a close eye on him. I didn’t really think he was going to attack me in a public place, not when he’d gone through so much trouble to make himself seem like a legal demon, but I wasn’t one to take chances.

Tommy was a little bit shorter than your average demon host. Most of them topped six feet, but I’d have put him at about five-ten. Give me a good pair of heels, and I’d be able to look down on him. He had the requisite good looks, though. His face was a little rounded, giving him an almost cherubic expression with his small, curvy mouth and apple cheeks. But all you had to do was look him in the eye to kill that illusion. They were a deep shade of blue I’d have called beautiful if it weren’t for the malevolent presence I sensed behind them.

Maybe it was all in my mind. Maybe the fact that I knew he was possessed by an illegal demon made that glint in his eye look evil. Maybe if I had no idea who he was and had just run into him on the street, I wouldn’t have given him a second glance. But I did know what he was, and I hated him before he even opened his mouth.

Tommy pushed away from the wall and gave me an assessing look, one that made me bristle. He watched me pull the Taser from my bag but didn’t seem particularly concerned about it.

“Morgan Kingsley, I presume?” he asked in a cultured tone that I suspected sounded nothing like Tommy Brewster.

“What are you doing here?” I asked. I suppose I won’t win any prizes for politeness, but I couldn’t think of any pressing reason to treat him as a decent human being.

“I’d heard you were looking for me,” he said.

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Where did you hear that?”

“My roommate informed me that I had a visitor yesterday. He also said he suggested you look for me at The Seven Deadlies.” He grinned at me, a creepy expression that made my skin crawl—no doubt just the effect he was going for. “I am sorry I missed you last night.”