Jenna Black - The Devil You Know

The exorcism went smoothly, my power easily forcing the demon out of its unwilling human host. And to top it off, the host was one of the lucky twenty percent whose mind remained intact after the exorcism. Traumatized as all hell, probably needing some serious therapy, but alive and sane. I wished I didn’t know the truth about demons, wished I didn’t know that exorcism didn’t actually kill them, just sent them back to the Demon Realm. It meant the son of a bitch who’d possessed this poor guy could come back to the Mortal Plain for fresh meat anytime he felt like it.

One of the many unpalatable truths I’d learned from Lugh was that, while possessing a human host against his or her will was most definitely illegal in our world, it wasn’t in the Demon Realm. That was the status quo Lugh had vowed to change when he’d ascended to the throne, and it was the reason Dougal and his supporters had staged their palace coup. I might not feel like much of a hero, but I truly believed that in helping Lugh, I served a worthy cause. Of course, I was also in it for self-preservation, seeing as Lugh’s enemies wanted him dead.

I made a couple of stops on my way home, to pick up Andy’s things from the hospital, and to stop by his apartment to pack up some clothes and other essentials. I rushed through everything, feeling edgy even as I told myself Raphael couldn’t have found Andy this fast, even if he was on the Mortal Plain.

When I let myself into my apartment, I was not what you’d call pleased to discover that, while I was right and Raphael hadn’t killed my brother while I was gone, Andy did have a visitor.

I let the door slam closed behind me, tossing my keys onto a side table and counting backward slowly from a hundred. I took another look at Adam and decided to start at a thousand instead.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, ever the gracious hostess. Habit and longing made me glance quickly at the answering machine, my baser nature hoping Brian had called no matter how much I told myself I didn’t want him to. But there were no messages.

Adam had made himself at home, settling into the couch, helping himself to one of my bottles of expensive birch beer, and propping his feet on my coffee table. Andy, tension radiating from his every pore, sat on the love seat with his arms crossed over his chest and his gaze fixed on the carpet.

At least Adam hadn’t shot him again, I thought sourly as I once again fantasized about Tasering the hell out of Adam. He liked pain, but he felt it was far better to give than receive, and I was sure he wouldn’t enjoy the Taser. Certainly he hadn’t seemed to the last time I’d used it on him.

Adam swung his feet off the coffee table and sat up straight, but he drained the remains of the birch beer before answering. He sighed in satisfaction as he put the empty bottle down. “Almost as good as a real beer.”

I started counting backward again, this time from a million. I figured I could go all the way down to zero without feeling much less irritated.

“Unless you’d like me to practice some innovative uses for empty bottles,” I growled, “you’d better tell me what the fuck you’re doing in my apartment.” I gave Andy a dirty look, wondering why he’d let Adam in.

Andy held his hands up in surrender. “I didn’t open the door,” he said. “Your friend got a key from the super.”

Adam’s eyes gleamed, and he ignored the interplay between me and my brother. “Just what kind of innovative uses do you have in mind?”

Naturally, I blushed like a little girl. “Cracking it on your head seems like a good idea.”

He exaggerated a frown. “And here I thought you were creative.”

“Adam…”

“Come sit down,” he said, patting the couch beside him.

I figured I had two options. I could Taser him and drag him out into the hall, or I could sit and listen to whatever he had to say. I’d prefer the Taser option, but since he’d gotten into the apartment once without my help, I supposed he’d be able to do it again, so all I’d accomplish was to piss him off.

I took a seat next to Andy, who still showed no inclination to acknowledge Adam’s presence. I put my hand on his shoulder.

“You all right, bro?” I asked softly.

He nodded, but didn’t answer. I couldn’t blame him for being reticent around the man who’d shot him. Of course, I also knew the level of brutality Adam was capable of. If he suspected Andy knew things he wasn’t telling…

I gave Adam my best marrow-freezing glare. “If you ever hurt my brother again…”

He gave me another one of those faux-innocent looks in return. “I can’t imagine what you’re talking about.”

I gritted my teeth. “Like hell you can’t! Now tell me what you’re doing in my apartment before I get impatient with you.”

He snickered. “I don’t have a time machine.”

“You’re in my place—I’m the only one who gets to be a smart-ass here.”

His expression told me he was sorely tempted to continue the comedy routine, but he managed to control himself. “I have news for you.”

The way my life was going, I subscribed to the “no news is good news” theory, but I was running out of excuses to bury my head in the sand. Tension thrumming through my body, I sat up straighter and waited for him to continue.

“This may have nothing to do with us, or with Lugh,” Adam said, “but we’ve had a rather…strange case come up.”

“By ‘we,’ do you mean Special Forces?” I asked.

He nodded. “This isn’t anything we’re sharing with the general public, so I hope you’ll be circumspect and keep it to yourself.” He waited for me to nod my agreement before he continued. “A brand-new demon host was found in an alley late last night. The ceremony to invite his demon in was only two days ago, but he was found catatonic, very obviously no longer possessed.”

I shivered in a nonexistent chill. “What happened to him?”

“Good question. I interviewed his family to see if there was anything unusual about his situation. I found out the Grand Poobah of their chapter of the Spirit Society had instructed the host to invite a specific demon, using his True Name.”

By “Grand Poobah,” I assumed Adam meant the Regional Director, a man by the name of Bradley Cooper. A close personal friend of my mom and dad, and one of the slimiest bastards I’d ever met who wasn’t a politician or a lawyer. But for all that I couldn’t stand the guy, I’d never heard of him taking that kind of a personal interest in one particular member of the Society. Nor had I ever heard of him wanting to summon a particular demon by name.

“You think it’s Raphael,” Andy said in a voice barely louder than a whisper. “You think he’s come back and abandoned his host so no one will know who he’s in.”

Adam shrugged. “The thought has occurred to me.”

“Lugh didn’t think Raphael would trust his buddies enough to tell them his True Name,” I said.

Adam frowned at me. “Lugh must know it, and if he knows it, then I can’t imagine Dougal doesn’t.”

I cocked my head curiously. “Why must Lugh know it?” I asked, racking my brain to remember whether Lugh had out and out denied knowing, or if he’d just led me to believe he didn’t.

“Because he’s the king,” Adam replied, as if that were all the answer I needed.

“And the king is omniscient?”

But Adam seemed to realize he was on the verge of volunteering information and gave me a tight-lipped glare. “The number of demons who have True Names is relatively small. Only the truly extraordinary—like the royal family—earn them.”

“Have you?” I asked before I had time to think better of it.

He smiled. “If I had, I doubt I’d tell you. We may be working together, but you don’t exactly have my best interests at heart.”