Jenna Black - The Devil You Know

“And,” Lugh continued, “I think if he’s going to remain in the line of fire, he deserves to know the truth.”

I blinked, not sure I’d heard him correctly. “The truth?”

Lugh nodded, his dark amber eyes seeming to peer into my soul as he stared at me. “You have my permission to tell him about me. And about Dougal.”

“Since when do I need your permission?” I asked, hackles rising for no good reason except that I was uncomfortable.

He smiled. “All right then, my blessing. Does that sound better?”

“Not really,” I muttered, my mind going in circles. If I told Brian everything, then I’d never get rid of him.

And I’d lose the excuse I’d been giving myself for why he couldn’t make an informed decision to stay by my side.

I stared at my hands, my jaw clenched as I imagined tearing down the wall I’d built between myself and the man I loved. How could I bear to do that? I remembered how I’d felt when I’d discovered Raphael had kidnapped him, when I’d seen the terrible, terrifying videotape of the man I loved being tortured on my account. It had been the worst moment of my life, worse even than when I’d been tied to the stake with piles of kindling at my feet.

Tears burned my eyes, and my hands clenched so tightly my fingernails left bloodless crescents in my own skin. “I can’t go through that again,” I whispered.

I wasn’t surprised when Lugh appeared on the love seat beside me and drew me into his arms. And I was too overwhelmed to object when he tucked my head into the crook of his neck and rubbed one strong hand up and down my back. My own arms slipped around his waist, and I squeezed tight, absorbing the warmth and comfort of his body, inhaling his unique scent.

There was nothing sexual about that embrace. Even though I can’t deny I was attracted to him, nor could I fool myself into thinking he wasn’t attracted to me. It was nothing but a glorious, comforting hug, at a time I badly needed one.

“He’ll be safer if he knows,” Lugh said, his voice a barely audible rumble.

Before I could muster another argument, I woke up to the sensation of Andrew tapping my shoulder.

“Wake up, little sister,” he said. “It’s your turn to keep watch.”

I had the feeling I was in for a very long two hours.

I was right about that being one of the longest nights of my life. Even after Andrew had gotten me up and I’d taken my place on the couch, guarding the door, Lugh’s words echoed through my brain. Was I, as usual, being a chickenshit and making excuses for why I was pushing Brian away?

Of course I was. I might not be thrilled to admit it to myself, but I knew truth when I heard it. But, I told myself, I’d had legitimate reasons as well. Reasons that had nothing to do with my hang-ups and insecurities, and everything to do with the danger that clung to me like the stench of cigarette smoke after a night at a bar.

When it was time to wake Brian up to take the next watch, I could have stayed up with him and told him my whole crazy story. I could have opened my heart to him, and eased some of the pain in my own soul. Instead, I merely climbed into bed and fell into a deep and blessedly dreamless sleep.

I woke up the next morning to discover that I’d been the victim of a male conspiracy to let me sleep. I was supposed to have been on watch for one more shift over the course of the night, but Brian and Andy had neglected to wake me, and for once, Lugh hadn’t entered my dreams. I won’t say I was exactly fresh as a daisy, but I didn’t feel like I’d been run over by a truck, either, which was a nice change.

I followed the scent of brewing coffee into the kitchen, and discovered that I had even more company. Dominic was making himself at home in my kitchen, while Adam sat at the table sipping coffee from my favorite mug.

Before my caffeine-deprived brain could come up with an appropriately snarky comment, Brian shoved a mug in my face. The scent of coffee temporarily derailed me, and I took the mug and cupped it in both hands. Of course, after many mornings-after together, Brian knew exactly how I liked my coffee. Gulping down the heavenly brew, burning my tongue more than once, I retreated to the living room, trying my best to ignore the testosterone brigade that had invaded my tiny apartment. Sizzling sounds from the kitchen told me Dominic was cooking. Like Pavlov’s dog, I started drooling at the thought, even before the enticing scents reached my nose.

Adam didn’t take my not-so-subtle hint that I wanted to be left alone. Why was I not surprised? He sat beside me on the sofa, resting his elbow on the back and staring at me.

“What?” I asked, when I couldn’t stand the scrutiny any longer.

“I’m just waiting for the caffeine to hit your system. I know how grumpy you are before your morning coffee.”

I narrowed my eyes at him, then checked over my shoulder. Yup, Brian was standing right there. Heat flooded my cheeks. Brian’s face was studiously neutral, but I knew him too well not to see the suspicion in his eyes. I figured my overactive blush reflex was just making me look even more guilty. And then I remembered the dream of watching Adam and Dominic together, remembered how incredibly hot it had made me, and my cheeks burned even brighter.

“Adam’s just trying to make trouble,” I said tightly. “We’re not even friends, much less lovers.”

“Adam, behave,” Dominic called from the kitchen.

“Yes, Mother,” Adam answered with a wicked grin.

I don’t know if Brian believed me, but he didn’t say anything. I slurped more coffee, feeling the pressure of his eyes on me. Then he shrugged and dismissed the whole thing.

“Whatever,” he said. “I’m going to grab a quick shower.”

I hated that the tension eased out of my shoulders when Brian disappeared into the guest room. I shouldn’t let Adam get to me the way he did, but I just couldn’t help it. And I couldn’t help that Brian’s presence gave Adam so much more fuel to torture me with.

“So what are you two doing here this morning, anyway?” I asked. “And help yourself to my coffee, by the way.” I glanced at Dominic, slaving over my stove. “And help yourself to my kitchen.”

“Thanks,” Dom called cheerfully, frying up something that involved peppers and onions and filled the air with the most enticing aromas imaginable. Short of coffee. He must have been shopping before he’d come over—no way he’d gotten anything that smelled that good out of my fridge.

“I thought you might want to know that your parents have flown the coop,” Adam said, and I almost choked on my coffee.

“What?”

“When I went to interview them last night, they were gone.”

I figured I must not have had enough coffee yet. Surely he wasn’t saying what I thought he was saying. “What do you mean ‘gone’?”

“I mean packed up everything they own and disappeared.”

“That’s impossible.”

Adam shook his head. “Oh, I assure you, it’s quite possible. Aside from packing up everything they own, they also cleared out their bank accounts.”

Andy came over and joined us, looking as shocked as I felt. “But Morgan was just over there yesterday!” he protested.

“Yes, I know,” Adam said with exaggerated patience. “I was there, too, remember? But I assure you, when we went there last night, they were gone. Naturally, I’m trying to find out where they disappeared to, but no one can disappear this thoroughly and this suddenly without some kind of outside help.”

“Bradley Cooper,” I said, knowing the slimy little weasel had to have contacts all over the place. And that he wouldn’t hesitate to use illegal means to cover up whatever the hell it was he—and the Spirit Society—was hiding.