Jenna Black - The Devil Inside

“Uh…” That was the best conversation I could manage at the moment.

The humor faded from his face. I felt bereft.

“You are dreaming,” he told me. “In a way. I’m trying my best to communicate with you. The notes are not…adequate. You keep waking up in the middle.”

Oh, so that’s what this is all about. Yeah, this guy was just the kind of messenger my subconscious would come up with. I tried to play it cool, just waiting for the dream to end. I crossed my arms over my chest and gave him my best tough-chick-with-an-attitude look. He seemed less than impressed.

“I know you’re telling yourself I’m some kind of figment of your imagination,” he continued. “But honestly, Morgan, has your imagination ever been this vivid?”

I lowered my eyes, not wanting to see the knowing look on his face. He was a stranger to me. He had no right to look knowing.

“Look,” I said, my eyes fixed on one of the rivets in his jacket, “I don’t know who you are, or what you want — ”

“If you’d be so kind as to let me talk, I’ll tell you,” he interrupted.

Reluctantly, I raised my gaze to his face again. God, he was gorgeous. Lethally so. I made a zipping-my-lips gesture. He raised an eyebrow as if he didn’t quite get it, then spoke again.

“I am Lugh. I’m a demon, and I’m currently in possession of your body.” He frowned, the expression marring the perfection of his face. “In a manner of speaking, I suppose, since I seem unable to influence you except when you’re sleeping.”

I remembered the letter I’d written to myself, the one where I’d named my imaginary demon Lugh. “So you say I invited you in under the influence of drugs, right?”

He nodded. “My first memory when I awoke in the Mortal Plain was of lying on your bed. You’d been tied down. A man in a mask untied you. He didn’t say anything, and I couldn’t make you move or speak. I would guess the man was Andrew, though I can’t be sure.”

“And I don’t remember any of this…why?”

“Because you were drugged. You didn’t have any more success moving your body than I did.”

I wasn’t buying any of this — or at least, I was trying not to — but I figured even in a dream, it’s best to humor psycho-killers who could squash you without even breaking a sweat.

“Why would anyone want to go through all that trouble to stick you in an unwilling host?” I asked. “There are plenty of volunteers available.”

He frowned, and the light behind his eyes grew brighter. “I have enemies among my people. People who do not like my message. I would say someone wants to keep me quiet. Which means someone knew that I wouldn’t be able to gain control of your body.

“Letting Valerie know I’m communicating with you was not a good idea.”

“Now listen here, mister — ”

“If they’re trying to keep me quiet, then they don’t want me talking to my host.”

I threw up my hands in frustration. “Who the hell are ‘they’?”

He took a step closer to me. Again, I backed away. He might be the studliest guy I’d ever laid eyes on, but I didn’t trust him as far as I could throw him.

“I don’t know. Just be careful. Whoever they are, they’re not going to leave you alone.”

He flickered. Just like one of those old black-and-white movies.

“Damn it!” he said. “You’re fighting me again. Please, try to relax and let me talk to you. We have to figure out what to do.”

I shook my head. I didn’t know what I was doing to fight him, but whatever it was, I wanted to keep doing it. I’d had enough of this dream, thank you very much.

He flickered again.

Then he was gone, and I was alone in the white room.

Seconds later, I awoke to find myself cuddled safely in Brian’s arms.

I left Brian’s before he woke up the next morning. Cowardly of me, I suppose, but I couldn’t see myself calmly discussing my situation over coffee. I knew I wasn’t a good enough actress to pretend nothing was wrong.

I’d spent the night at Brian’s just often enough to warrant having a change of clothes there, though I was stuck using his Old Spice deodorant. I didn’t realize how much I’d come to associate that scent with him until I’d left. The scent was faint, and I kept thinking he was right there with me. Maybe I should have stopped by a Rite Aid and bought some of my own stuff.

I made it to the office by seven. I’d finished the reports on my exorcisms yesterday, but there was still plenty of paperwork waiting for me, accounting details and such. I wasn’t being what you’d call productive. I kept telling myself that Lugh was nothing but a vivid dream. Okay, I’m the queen of denial. So sue me.

At around eleven, someone banged on my office door. I’d have said “knocked,” except this sound was far more authoritative and I practically jumped out of my chair. Before I had a chance to invite anyone in, the door swung open, and a pair of plainclothes detectives stepped in. I vaguely recognized one of them. When you’re an exorcist, you deal with the criminal element on a regular basis, and that means getting to know cops.

They were a bit of an odd couple, the two of them. The one on the left, whom I’d never seen before, looked too skinny to be a cop. He had the build of a man who could eat five-course meals on a regular basis and never gain any weight. I’d have said he couldn’t scare a five-year-old on Halloween if it hadn’t been for his eyes. They were the iciest blue I’d ever seen, and the expression in them wasn’t much warmer. The eyes alone would be enough to keep most sane perps in line.

His partner, the familiar one, looked like the kind of guy who dressed up as Santa Claus for Christmas. He wasn’t fat, exactly, but he had a definite beer gut, and his cheeks were rosy. Not a wholesome rosy, actually, more of an I-drink-too-much rosy, but stick a white wig and beard on him and I’m betting he’d have looked jolly enough.

There wasn’t much ho-ho-ho in him today, though. Before I had a chance to ask if I could help them with something, he was flashing his badge.

“I’m Detective O’Reilly,” he said. His voice surprised me. He looked like he should have a deep, growling voice, but it was on the high and reedy side. “This is my partner, Detective Finn.”

Detective Arctic Eyes nodded a greeting. Neither one of them offered to shake hands.

I put on my most accommodating smile — these guys were making me nervous, and I didn’t know why. They had to be here for a follow-up on the break-in at my house. I should be glad to see them.

“What can I do for you, Detectives?” I asked. Neither one of them returned my smile.

“We’d like to ask you a few questions,” O’Reilly said.

I didn’t like the way that sounded. “Sure. Please, have a seat.” I motioned to the pair of chairs in front of my desk, but neither of them made a move to sit.

“I think it would be best if we did this at the station.”

I blinked up at the two of them. “What’s this about?” Surely they didn’t need me to come to the station to talk about the break-in.

Finn took over talking. He had the kind of voice I’d expected from O’Reilly. “There was an illegal exorcism last night. Your name came up.”

I shook my head. “What? Why?”

“Ms. Kingsley, please come with us,” O’Reilly said. “You’re not an official suspect yet, but we really do need you to answer some questions, and this isn’t the place for it.”

I chewed the inside of my cheek. I didn’t want to make things difficult for our heroic men in blue. I have a great deal of respect for law enforcement officers — Adam White being one of the few exceptions to that rule. Still, this whole thing was making my skin crawl.