Jenna Black - The Devil You Know

And that told me that there was more in those files he wanted to hide. Much more, if he was that desperate to keep me from looking.

Unfortunately, I didn’t think I was getting in that front door again. Not unless I broke in.

I wasn’t opposed to bending the law here and there. But for all my wild, rebellious childhood and adolescence, I’d never broken into a house before. I hadn’t the faintest idea how to go about it.

Of course, I did have an officer of the law I could call on for help. And I had no doubt Adam could get in the house if he wanted to. Hell, I could file a charge of assault against my father, and Adam could “investigate” it.

As tempting as the idea was, I nixed it before it took hold. I’d never had any warm, fuzzy feeling toward my parents, and I had even less right now. But I knew from cold, hard experience what could happen if I sicced Adam on them. My stomach tightened as I remembered Val’s scream when Adam’s whip had torn through her flesh. And I thought I might heave when I remembered the sickening crack of her neck breaking in his dispassionate hands.

No, the relationship between me and my parents wasn’t all flowers and bunny rabbits. And yes, they possibly had information I needed to learn. But never again would I willingly give someone over to Adam.

I stopped by a Chinese take-out place on my way home. My first inclination was to get two meals and kick Adam out of the apartment as soon as I got there, but I decided that was too bitchy. He had, after all, spent the afternoon babysitting my brother. I could muster up a scrap of gratitude in the form of a free meal.

I half-expected to find my apartment looking like a war zone, but everything was just about how it should be when I stepped in. Adam reported that the afternoon had been uneventful. No one had stopped by, and the only phone call had been from my mother, who wanted me to call back so she could apologize for Dad’s behavior. Yeah, like that was going to happen.

I told myself I was relieved as I dropped the bag of takeout on the table and headed for the kitchen in search of plates. If Raphael had shown up, he probably could have beaten Adam in a fight. According to Lugh, he and his brothers were of an elite class, more powerful by far than most of the demons who walked the Mortal Plain—including Adam.

But though I was glad no disasters had occurred while I was gone, I couldn’t deny that my heart sank just a little lower on realizing that yet another day had passed without a word from Brian.

I took far longer than necessary to fish three clean forks out of the silverware drawer. My hands itched to reach for the phone, to call Brian’s apartment and assure myself he was all right. After all, the enemy had gotten to him before. But in my heart of hearts, I knew he had made the conscious choice not to call me again.

The love of my life had finally given up on me. The thought made my chest ache and my eyes burn, even as I reminded myself that it was for his own good. I wished I could proudly and nobly make the sacrifice, but instead I found myself spinning scenarios in my mind where I could somehow free myself from Lugh and resume my interrupted life.

I guess I kind of spaced out for a while, because I didn’t notice Adam joining me in the kitchen until he cleared his throat loudly. I jumped like a startled cat and barely kept from dropping the silverware.

“Do you have a concussion?” he asked, and for a moment I had no idea what he was talking about.

Then I remembered having my lights punched out, and I reached up to the swelling bruise on my chin. “I’m fine,” I said, though I thought I detected a hint of hoarseness in my voice. I hoped Adam didn’t hear it and couldn’t recognize my distress, but his knowing look said he saw straight through me.

“You should put some ice on that. It’s showy enough that Lugh can’t afford to heal it without giving himself away.”

I grimaced. I hadn’t looked at myself in the mirror yet, but I took Adam’s word for it.

“May I ask what happened?”

I laughed. “Ask whatever you want. Just don’t expect me to answer.”

Having recovered my composure, or at least some of it, I tried to move past him into what my landlord optimistically called my “dining room.” As far as I was concerned, it was just a corner of the living room with barely enough space for a tiny table.

Adam stopped me with a hand on my arm. “Remember, we’re on the same team, love. Being on the same team means working together, which means sharing information.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Unless you’d like me to stick this fork into the back of your hand, I suggest you let go of me.”

I never for a moment expected him to actually let go, but he sighed and his hand slid away. I was so surprised I stood there gaping at him like an idiot.

“Must we be constantly at war?” he asked.

This was a side of Adam I’d never seen before. Usually, he was as much into the “take no prisoners” philosophy as I was. Enough so that I didn’t trust this apparent bid for truce.

“Let’s review a few facts,” I said. “You killed my best friend. You shot my brother. You tied me up and whipped me to within an inch of my life. How can you possibly expect us not to be at war?”

His eyes locked with mine as he enumerated his counterpoints on his fingers. “You exorcized my lover. You’ve repeatedly tried to drive a wedge between me and Dominic. And you tried to have me arrested and executed as a rogue demon. Neither one of us has any room to throw stones. The fact remains that we have a common enemy and a common goal. I spent a lot of time today talking with Andrew, and he’s convinced me that trying to hurt one another isn’t conducive to a successful working relationship.” His lips twitched up into a grin. “I can’t imagine you waving the white flag, so I decided I’d be man enough to do it myself.”

Everything he said sounded perfectly logical. He was even right. I mean, really, how well could we work together when we were both constantly taking verbal jabs at each other?

But I wasn’t buying it. Although I hated to admit it even to myself, Adam and I were a lot alike in some ways, and our warm, forgiving natures weren’t one of them. I didn’t know what his angle was, but I was damn sure there was one.

“You can wave as many flags as you like,” I said. “I have nothing to share with you. When I do, I’ll let you know.”

For half a second, his eyes seemed to glow, an effect I’d noticed before when he got really, really pissed. But the glow faded so fast I was almost able to convince myself it was my imagination.

He shook his head. “Fine. If that’s the way it’s got to be, then so be it. You’ll only be needing two of those forks.”

I went to bed that night thinking about Lugh, trying to will myself to fall asleep and wake up in his special room. I was seriously pissed at him for taking a joyride in my body last night, and though he already knew exactly how I felt about it, I was determined to tell him in my own words.

But I awoke the next morning from a long and dreamless sleep. When I got over the novelty of feeling rested, I cursed Lugh for what seemed suspiciously like a streak of cowardice. Grumbling to myself, I shoved the covers away and sat up. That’s when I noticed the note by the bedside, written in my own handwriting.

We’ll talk when you’ve calmed down. We wouldn’t accomplish anything useful in your present state of mind.

I crumpled the note and tossed it into the wastebasket across the room.

“Yeah,” I muttered to the empty room. “Hijack my body again to write me a note. That’s exactly the right way to make me calm down. I never took you for a chickenshit, Lugh.”