Jenna Black - The Devil You Know

I was shocked when I first caught sight of her. Mrs. Perfect’s face was devoid of makeup, so there was no disguising the dark circles under her eyes, and her hair lay flat against her head, no evidence of having encountered a curling iron and a bottle of hairspray. Her simple black dress made her skin look almost paper white, except for the mottled color of her face. When she saw me, her eyes welled with tears, and she crossed the short distance between us and gathered me into a fierce hug.

Not knowing what else to do, I returned the embrace awkwardly. My own eyes were dry, although that didn’t mean I wasn’t grieving inside. For the loss of my father, for the loss of my brother, for the troubles that had arisen once again between myself and Brian. So far, I hadn’t been able to bring myself to talk to him. It wasn’t that I didn’t understand what he’d done or why he’d done it. I could even admit to myself that it had been a noble gesture, doing something that was anathema to him to save me from myself. But I wasn’t sure I could forgive him.

Mom pushed away from me and blotted her tears with an already sodden tissue. Guilt twisted in my gut as I looked into her grief-stricken eyes. Of course, she had no idea the role I’d played in her husband’s death, and though I’d always found my father cold, there was no doubt in my mind that my mom had loved him. My throat tightened, and no words would come.

Raphael stood, drawing Mom’s attention, then dutifully hugged her, eyes fixed on me the entire time. When he let go, Mom excused herself, drawing me with her to the far side of the room. Raphael took the hint and sat back down as far away from us as possible.

She visibly swallowed hard, then firmed her chin and met my eyes. “Mr. Cooper came to see your father and me the day of the accident,” she said quietly, and the tears sprang back to life. She blinked them away. “He told us what happened to you at The Healing Circle. I want you to know neither your father nor I had any idea what they were planning to do to you. We never would have allowed them to take you if we had known they were going to hurt you.”

I couldn’t help a derisive snort. “You knew they were going to give me to the demons.” I lowered my voice, since the engineer of my childhood trauma was sitting so close. “You drugged me and took me to the hospital so I could be mind-raped.”

Her face paled and her chin quivered. “It was for the greater good,” she whispered, but I saw the doubt that swam behind her eyes. She reached out to touch my face, and for some reason I let her do it. “Your father and I did what we thought was right. Maybe in hindsight I think we were wrong, but I can’t change the past. What could we have done differently, when we believed with all our hearts that sacrificing our daughter was the right thing to do?” She shook her head. “How could we have faced ourselves if we had selfishly done as we preferred when we believed it was wrong?”

I remembered the terrible moment when I’d realized that to protect myself, to protect Lugh, I would have to kill my father. I’d faced the same kind of decision my parents had faced: do what I was convinced was right, or do what I’d prefer. I’d turned away from the “right” choice. If Brian hadn’t tackled me, Der Jäger could even now be back in the Demon Realm, telling Dougal and all his minions exactly where Lugh was. Very possibly, that would have led to Lugh’s death and the subjugation of the human race to the demons. How could I be so sure that my decision had been the correct one?

It was the most slippery of moral slopes, and nothing I could deal with in the midst of this maelstrom of grief. I couldn’t force myself to speak words of forgiveness, but neither could I wholeheartedly condemn her.

The world is rarely painted in black and white, Lugh’s voice whispered in my mind, reminding me to shore up my mental defenses. So far, it seemed that I could block his voice out with a concerted effort, but how long before he found a way around that obstacle as well?

“Are you officially coming out of hiding?” I asked my mom.

She looked momentarily taken aback by the change of subject, but she recovered quickly. “Yes. We—I’m in the process of moving back into the house.” The tears returned, and before I knew what I was going to do, I had stepped forward and hugged her.

I could count on one hand the number of times I’d voluntarily hugged my mom as an adult. I had no idea where the impulse had come from, though I hoped it had been my own idea, not Lugh’s. Inside, I shuddered. When Raphael had pretended to offer to take Lugh from me, I’d decided to keep him. But now I wondered if I’d been suffering from temporary insanity. It seemed like every day, he intruded further into my life, and I had no idea where it would all end.

The funeral director stepped into the room and quietly informed us that it was time for the service to begin. Turning away from me, my mom snatched another handful of tissues from the box beside the couch, then raised her chin like a soldier going into battle. Raphael stepped up beside her and put his arm around her shoulders. She leaned into him, taking comfort from the man she thought was her son.

Choking on an upswelling of rage, I watched them walk out into the chapel together. The fate of the world might very well rest on my shoulders, but at the moment, figuring out a way to kick Raphael out of Andy’s body was my top priority. And if it turned out he was lying to me, abusing my brother like he had before, then I would find a way to make him pay.

Seizing my anger, nurturing it to drown out the lingering echoes of grief, I followed my remaining family out into the chapel.