Adelaide Upset (28 page)

I took two quick steps and
slapped him. Hard. “About as much as you enjoyed that, the only
difference is that you felt the sting straight away.”

He glared at me, all
vestiges of civilized, good breeding wiped clean by my slap. “I’ve
expended resources on your behalf, money, influence, just to keep
you from being questioned by the police. That makes you an
investment, Adelaide. So I suggest you start showing me profitable
returns and tell me what the hell is going on. If not I’ll withdraw
my efforts,” Reed threatened. “I can even save you a trip by taking
you down to the station myself.”

I called,
“Bullshit.
I’m
not an investment, my gift is. That’s what you want, my
empathy at your disposal. And you want it more than I want your
help.”

“
You
need
my help,” he
clarified.

I just shrugged. “I’m not telling you
anything.”

“
Edward Marks mentioned
you by name, admitting that the grave where they found the remains
was meant to be yours. Now William Shrader is awake—”

“
You said he was in a
comma!”

“
Yes, well, he woke up,”
Reed said impatiently. “He’s still being treated at the hospital,
currently handcuffed to his bed. But who knows what he’ll say.
Adelaide, I’m trying to help, but I can’t protect you if I don’t
know how you’re involved.”

I might’ve caved then, if
not for his contempt. It slithered over me, partnered with
aggression. He thought I was being foolish and unreasonable, and no
matter how lovely he pleaded, that wouldn’t change. Reed Wallace
was a condescending ass, and I wasn’t going to let him, or his
charm, outmaneuver me.

“Is there anything else you flew eight
hundred miles to discuss? Because I’m done with that subject,” I
said, swooping down to pick up the toilet scrubber.

“One day you are going to be desperate for
my help, Adelaide. And I want you to know,” he said, staring
straight into my eyes, “that it’s going to be my pleasure watching
you beg for it.”

Not the segue I’d been
hoping for, but as we didn’t chat on the phone every other day I
might not get another chance to ask for Nancy. “Speaking of
favors,” I began, turning to fluff the towels in my effort to hide
a wince. “Since you keep tabs about everything on St. Simons, I
suppose you know all about that conference, the one in
October?”

He made a soft noise,
unmistakably derisive. “Yes, I know the one. A lot of New Age
nonsense, or so I’m told.”

“
You should come this
year,” I said, still giving him my back. “In fact, you should host
it at the country club.”

He laughed outright, his
hilarity infectious. I almost laughed too, but quickly stifled it,
appalled by how easily he could drag me in. “I’m serious,” I said
while gathering up my cleaning supplies. “Gifted people go.
I’m
going.”

He followed me through
room thirteen, the blistering heat of summer greeting us as we
stepped outside. “You know,” he observed, watching me skeptically
as I loaded the cart. “It’s hard for me to swallow that you would
willingly participate in that type of thing, so I have to ask... is
someone blackmailing you?”

I snorted. “You mean someone besides you?”
He was actually worried. “You want to know my secrets? Well here’s
one—I know the woman in charge. She’s nice. I’m going to support
her. You should go too.”

“
There’s an art to this,”
Reed said, inattentively gesturing between us, “an art to asking,
to begging and pleading. You need practice, Adelaide. My answer is
no.”

“
You’ll be there,” I said,
sure it was somehow true.

He faintly grimaced, the
subtle expression as captivating as it was false. He wasn’t the
least bit put out, in fact, he was rather enjoying this. “You sound
like my mother.”

It was a ploy he probably used with all his
girlfriends—relating them to his mother when he wanted to shut the
door on a conversation.

So I asked, “You have a
mother? And here I thought you were spawned from Satan.”

“
I suppose I should leave
on a high note,” Reed joked, layering on the charm. It was a smarmy
habit.

I noticed the car then, sleek and arrogantly
parked curbside, hogging up two spaces. “Yours, I presume?”

He nodded.

“You drove?” He seemed too urbane for
that.

“
I could hardly travel
incognito with a limo and driver.”

Well in that case... I grabbed the toilet
brush from the cart, strode over to the driver’s door, opened it up
and began to give the steering wheel a thorough cleaning.

“Did I or did I not promise to make you
regret it if you ever took advantage of me again?” I gave him my
meanest smile, our faces locked over the top of his shiny town car.
“I think I did.”

After Reed’s unceremonious
visit/intrusion I wanted to finish reading Demidov’s diary more
than ever. It was the first thing I did after getting home, and
when I saw there was only one entry left, I kicked myself for not
finishing it sooner. Then I would’ve been able to hand the damned
thing over, gleefully watching as Reed Wallace left my life for
good. Scratch that, I needed him to go to Nancy’s stupid event. In
that case the book would serve a greater purpose, my little
leverage over Reed. We’d see how
he
liked being blackmailed for a
change. With that thought I cheerfully opened Demidov’s diary,
quite unprepared for the last entry, which was, by far, the most
shocking.

According to the deal I
struck with Raulriechmydl, these words will never be seen. That was
just one of his conditions—that I would never speak of demon
secrets—and I won’t. So why fill a single page? I am not trying to
circumvent my agreement, no, I am not that foolish. But as
information has been the mistress of my life, it seems cruel to
learn things, things only one in a billion could know, and remain
silent. I keep this record because it pleases me. I find comfort in
writing it all out, my experiences, the secrets. Because this is my
legacy, though no one will ever know it, and perhaps that is for
the best. My dear Agata, it is a blessing that she will not be
burdened with this. It was for her that things progressed so far
and I made that first, frightful agreement. She grew ill, wilting
before my eyes, and if my brother and I were ever united in
anything after my mother’s death, it was in our desire to spare
Agata. He waited until I was desperate, when Agata was just a husk
of herself, and then Raulriechmydl came, bearing promises and
whispered words of hope. While the doctors remained perplexed and
uncertain, the demon recognized her illness, having seen it a dozen
times over. He swore there was a remedy, and so, after years of
biding his time, the demon finally got what he wanted, each of us
trading something priceless we possessed. He gave up the cure to
save my niece, and me—my body. I proceeded with caution during our
negotiation, and although I would’ve done anything to save Agata,
something Raulriechmydl knew well, it was also no secret that he
would do more for access to a body, my body. The restrictions I
laid out were obvious: my body would be returned in the same
condition, no harm done to it or anyone else. In addition I
specified what I considered harmful, making plain that drugs and
sex were prohibited. I thought the demon would argue, as such
experiences would rouse the senses, but he did not. The only thing
we disagreed upon was the duration of his stay in my body. He
wanted long-term access, but Agata took a turn for the worse, and
being the first to sense it, Raulriechmydl agreed to my terms
before his hold on me was lost. My niece was saved, his end of the
deal done, and for me there was no going back. I cannot describe
the feeling of disappearing into one’s own self. My mind
suppressed, closed shut by another. I remember Raulriechmydl’s
expression, those disgusting and unnatural features twisted in
satisfaction as he ghosted forward, and then that moment when he
pushed inside, slipping into my body and taking possession. I came
back hours later, every muscle strained and aching, vomit on my
chin, sour in my mouth. My house was a wreck, every drawer and
cupboard open. It looked much like I felt, well used and thoroughly
violated. I liked to think that he ate himself sick, and after that
he went for a run, jumping, twisting and skipping, experiencing
motion in all its forms. But I’ll never know and I’ll always
wonder, because every time I ask the demon he only smiles and
laughs. That should have been the only time I gave my body over,
and if I was a stronger man it would’ve been. But I am weak to
curiosity, to knowledge and facts. It was for his deepest secret
that we made our next exchange. It agitated Raulriechmydl to speak
of the black covenant, and he appeared almost afraid, even more so
than I, who was terrified to, again, give up my skin. He said it
was a ritual that all demons knew, but none spoke of. I’d seen it
written in myth, but Luitger Fuerst, whose experience I trusted,
had never made mention of demon slaves. Raulriechmydl whispered the
secret to me, speaking with quiet gravity. I learned there was only
one thing every demon wanted and none could resist—flesh and blood.
Summoning a demon to make the sacrifice would bind you
intrinsically together. The demon would take on a semihuman state,
gaining senses to a certain extent, but would be nothing more than
an extension of their master, unable to resist direction or
command. But servitude didn’t suit demons well, compulsory
obedience went against their nature. So it became the taboo of
demonkind, sharing the secret of blood rites with man. For
knowledge once shared could not be ungiven, and for the demons the
flesh and blood sacrifice, once offered, could not be denied. I
would later hear of an Albanian cult that called to the demon
Hezahrue by offering up a beautiful young woman in sacrifice. In
one tale the creature had vampire-like aspects, drinking her blood
with long fangs. In another she was impregnated, spawning a demonic
child. There were other such stories, but they no longer seemed
far-fetched. Raulriechmydl’s secret was a heavy weight, coloring my
thoughts with frightful possibilities. For the first time in my
life I found myself in possession of information that I did not
want, a secret men would kill for, demons too, a secret I would
give anything to forget.

That was it. That was the
end of Demidov’s diary. It suddenly occurred to me that I should
never have read it, any of it. If demons could crown kings and grow
empires, then the secret to their captivity should be just that...
a secret. Theodore Dunn had read the journal, and he was dead. If I
didn’t want to follow in his footsteps then I had to pretend I’d
never so much as glanced at the accursed thing.

I stuffed it back in the
fuse box, absently thinking up a plan to call Reed first thing
tomorrow as I let myself out of the closet. It took a moment to
realize I wasn’t alone, the figure of a man hunched over my kitchen
table.

“
Lucas!” I yelped, jumping
in place and suddenly breathless. “How long have you been
there?”

“
A few minutes,” he
answered, leaning back in the chair, “figured I’d just wait for you
to come out.”

I’d been so engrossed in
that last entry I hadn’t even heard him come in. Shit, how was I
going to explain myself? “I, uh, sometimes go into the
closet...”

He nodded. “I know.” Of course he did. He
noticed more than I gave him credit for, and how like him not to
remark on my oddities.

I walked to the chair next
to his, sitting a few feet apart with the corner of the table
between us. The silence was thick and awkward. My hands became a
problem, nervously flailing about like two injured birds. I tucked
them under my thighs and glanced at Lucas.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” he said, voice
measured and low.

“
I’m sorry,” I said,
carefully watching his face for any sign of emotion. It was cut in
curving lines, the gently rounded chin and nose, hooded eyes, a
beautifully blank mystery. Just looking at him made me want to
recapture the last time we were together, the furious need and
pulsing haste. It would be easy to lean over and take a kiss, but I
didn’t because the conversation I had been putting off for the
better part of a week was upon us.

Lucas split the silence,
saying, “I rushed you, and that was a mistake. If you regret it,
then we ca—”

“Wait,” I said, tossing up a hand.
“What?”

“
We slept together,” he
said, his manner matter of fact. “You haven’t come near me
since.”

“
But it’s not because of
the sex,” I blurted. He didn’t believe me, that much was plain. “I
liked being with you,” I insisted. “It was perfect. I’m just not
sure we should do it again.”

He crossed his arms, and on anyone else I
would have labeled it a defensive gesture, but not Lucas. Who knew
what he was thinking. “You’re breaking up with me.”

“
Shit. No. Of course not,”
I spluttered, wondering when the conversation started careening out
of control. “Lucas, that is the last thing I want, but we do need
to talk.” I rubbed my forehead, trying to dispel the building
tension. “Elaine paid me a visit at Sterling’s last week.” The mere
memory made me mad. Lucas shifted, and I hurried to speak, wanting
to keep the conversation on track. “Just listen. I know that you
have things you don’t want to discuss, and I get it. I would gladly
give you all the time in the world, but we don’t have time. Elaine
is here, and she’s scratching the scab, dropping hints and making
veiled comments. I don’t want to learn about your past from her, I
want to hear it from you.”