Jenna Black - The Devil's Due

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.

Devon and Claudia Brewster lived out past the Main Line, which marks the boundary between the city and the suburbs. Their neighborhood was chic and obviously expensive. Most cars were discreetly tucked away in garages, but those that weren’t tended toward the Mercedes and BMW end of the luxury scale. I wondered whether Tommy drove a POS because his parents were cheap, or because it was some kind of fashion statement. Of course, the way he usually dressed, he’d have looked like a car thief behind the wheel of a Mercedes. Raphael’s outfit of well-worn jeans borrowed from Adam and navy blue sweatshirt borrowed from Dominic looked like black-tie attire compared to Tommy’s usual wardrobe. I hoped that wouldn’t make the bad guys suspicious.

“That’s the house,” Raphael said, pointing briefly before pulling the car to the curb two houses down. He left the engine running, but put the car in park and turned to face me. He surprised me by reaching out to grab my wrist. If I’d had an inkling he’d been about to touch me, I’d have been out of the car before he’d moved five inches.

“Let go of me!” I said, giving my hand a yank for emphasis. Of course, he didn’t let go. “What are you doing?” Did I mention I didn’t trust Raphael one bit?

He grinned at me. “I’m keeping you from bolting if you don’t like my next suggestion.”

“I already don’t like it. Now get your hands off me or things’ll get ugly.”

“Let Lugh surface.”

I jerked on my hand again, but when a demon’s got a grip on you, you aren’t getting free. “That wasn’t part of the plan.”

“Yes, it was. I just didn’t mention it before.”

Raphael had hold of my left hand, but I’m right-handed. I reached for the Taser that was strapped to my belly with adhesive tape, where it was hidden by my oversized sweatshirt. Another loaner from Adam. Raphael grabbed my right hand before I got to the Taser.

“What if they don’t buy it, Morgan?” he asked. “What if we get down into that basement, and they figure out I’m not Tommy’s original demon? I can mimic Tommy just fine since I have access to his mind, but he wasn’t paying enough attention to what his demon was doing in the real world to give me any clue who his allies are. We’ll go down there, and everyone will expect me to recognize my so-called friends.”

My heart sank, and some of the fight went out of me. He was right, damn him. There were plenty of ways this rescue attempt could go wrong. And puny human me wouldn’t be much help in a fight against demons.

“You’ve had trouble letting him in in the past,” Raphael continued, “even in extenuating circumstances. Do you want all hell to break loose in there and then find out you can’t let him in? Or would you rather go in there prepared?”

“You can let go of me now,” I said, in what I hoped was a calm voice. “You’re right, and I have to find a way to let him in. It’s just. . I haven’t had much success.”

Raphael let go of my right hand, but kept hold of my left. I guess he didn’t trust me any more than I trusted him. I was sure he was keeping a careful watch on me in case I went for the Taser again.

“You let him in the other night when I woke you up.”

I grimaced. “Yeah, but I’d already let him in while I was sleeping. All I had to do was keep the doors open.”

“So try to do the same thing now. Try to do whatever it was you did when you kept the doors open.”

“I don’t—”

“Would you rather I clock you and let him take over while you’re unconscious?”

The grimace turned into a scowl. He was right-handed, too, and his right hand was busy holding on to me. However, I didn’t doubt he could turn my lights out just as easily with his left.

“Bastard,” I mumbled.

“Your choice.”

“Fine! I’ll try to let him in. Don’t you dare hit me!” He didn’t say anything, and I knew he’d do whatever he damn well pleased. This wasn’t what I’d call the optimal situation for achieving the kind of relaxation I thought I’d need to let Lugh take control. Especially since Raphael still had hold of me and wasn’t going to let go anytime soon.

“Close your eyes,” Raphael said. “Try pretending you’re going into the trance state.”

“I don’t suppose you carry vanilla candles with you?” I said, but I closed my eyes and leaned back in my seat, trying to ignore the disquieting feel of his hand on my wrist.

I drew in a deep breath and told myself that the scent of vanilla filled the air, and that the orange glow that lit my eyelids was a plethora of candles, not a streetlamp. Sometimes, I can lie to myself with great skill, like when Lugh first possessed me and I tried to deny all the evidence that I wasn’t alone in my body anymore. I seemed to have lost my touch, however, because I remained very much aware that I was sitting in a car in the middle of the night with a man I didn’t trust, trying to let a demon take control of my body.

Frustration curled my fingers into fists. I didn’t want Raphael hitting me! It probably wouldn’t really hurt, because I probably wouldn’t be conscious long enough to register the pain, but I’d been beat up enough lately.

“Visualize what you did with Tommy tonight,” Raphael said in what I’m sure was supposed to be a hypnotic voice.

I cracked one eye open to look at him. “Do me a favor and shut up. Hearing your voice does not relax me.”

He shut up, and I closed my eye again. Despite the fact that I’d grumped at him, I actually did as Raphael suggested and mentally took myself through the events of earlier tonight. I visualized arranging those vanilla-scented candles in a circle around Tommy, then remembered what it had felt like to light each one. Adam and Dom didn’t have a lighter, so I’d been forced to use matches.