The Devil You Know (5 page)

“That makes one of us,” I growled. “I have enough problems
now
without digging up shit from the past. Just let it go.”

He opened his mouth on a protest, then closed it before he actually said anything. “All right. I’ll let it go for now.” He smiled at me. “I should take my own advice about not causing you to dig your heels in deeper.”

I sighed in relief, though I knew I hadn’t heard the end of this topic. “Thanks.”

He acknowledged that with a nod. “I suppose I should let you get some more peaceful sleep.”

“Thanks,” I said again.

“Sweet dreams.” He gave me one last smoldering look before my eyes slid closed and the dream dissolved.

The next morning, I awoke in sleep-deprived grouch mode. I had an exorcism scheduled at ten-fifteen, but when I called the hospital to check on Andy, I found out he was being released at nine-thirty. He wasn’t in his room when I called, but the nurse I talked to confirmed my suspicion that he was planning to go home with my parents. I decided I had to show up at the hospital before they did and use my boundless charm to convince Andy to come with me instead. I had a feeling this whole mess would make me late for the exorcism, but protecting Andy was a higher priority. I doubted the state of Pennsylvania would agree, but I’d deal with that later.

I showed up at the hospital at eight thirty-five—way too early in the morning for my tastes—and found Andy alone in his room, sitting in the wheelchair and staring off into space. He didn’t notice when I stood in the doorway, so I rapped lightly on the door. He blinked as if just waking up, then turned to look at me. If he was surprised to see me, he didn’t show it.

Feeling awkward, I stuffed my hands into my pants pockets and resisted the urge to scuff my feet. “How are you doing this morning, bro?”

He shrugged. “I’m going to live with Mom and Dad until I get my strength back. How would you feel in my shoes?”

I grimaced. “Like a prisoner about to be executed.”

He didn’t seem to have the energy to muster a laugh, but he smiled at least. “All right, I’m not quite that bad. But I’m not exactly looking forward to it.”

I stepped all the way into the room and shut the door behind me. Andy raised his eyebrows at that.

I cleared my throat, leaning my back against the door to make sure there would be no interruptions. “Maybe you’d be better off staying with me until you’re ready to make it on your own,” I suggested.

When he started laughing, I felt a sudden, almost irresistible urge to throttle him. Heat flooded my face, a combination of anger and hurt coursing through my veins.

Andy stifled his laughter and shook his head at me. “Don’t look so murderous! Can you really blame me for laughing at the image of you as nursemaid?”

I glared at him. “Hey, this is
me
we’re talking about. I can blame you for the sky being blue if I want to.” But secretly I had to admit, he had a point. I’m not exactly what you’d call a motherly sort.

He laughed again, but it didn’t sting so much this time. “Good point. But I still think we’ll get along better if we aren’t living in the same house.”

“Apartment,” I corrected, and the hurt was back even though I knew he was right. “But we’ll also get along better if Raphael doesn’t kill you.”

I saw my shot hit home and wished I’d presented my argument more tactfully. Andy’s hands clenched into fists, and his face—already pale from too many weeks in the hospital—went white.

Mentally giving myself a swift kick in the ass, I moved farther into the room and sat on one of the visitors’ chairs, pulling it around so I could face my brother.

“Do you know anything he might want to kill you for?” I asked.

“No,” he answered, too quickly. “He kept me shut off from the outside world much of the time, when he was hiding something or we…disagreed.” He shivered. “It wasn’t anything like what I was expecting.”

My heart ached for him. Yeah, he’d been a volunteer, and technically it was his own fault that he’d been miserable, but he’d only been twenty-one when he’d invited Raphael into this world and into his body. That’s awfully young to make a decision that in theory would be irreversible for the rest of your life. He had known the risks, but
knowing
the risks and
understanding
them were two different things.

I’m not the touchy-feely sort, but I reached out and clasped Andy’s hand anyway. His fingers wrapped tightly around mine, as though he were hanging on for dear life.

“I’m sorry,” I said, feeling completely inadequate. Surely there should be
something
I could say to lessen his pain, to chase that haunted expression from his eyes. But there was nothing.

A perfunctory knock on the door interrupted the silence. Neither one of us said anything, but the door swung open anyway, and a distinguished-looking man about fifty years old walked in.

“Am I interrupting?” he asked, looking back and forth between me and Andy. He wore a traditional white lab coat, and I could see from the ID badge clipped to his lapel that this was Dr. Frederick Neely. I had never met him before, but I knew he was one of the doctors who had been treating Andy. Reluctantly, I let go of Andy’s hand.

“Would it matter if you were?” Andy asked.

The doctor laughed, and I gave my brother a sidelong glance. That sounded like something
I
would say. Andy was usually polite to a fault.

Correction—the Andy I’d known ten years ago had been polite to a fault. Even ten years of
normal
life would have changed him. Ten years with Raphael might have warped him beyond recognition. Only time would tell.

“I just need to give you a final checkup before discharging you,” Dr. Neely said. He looked at me pointedly. “If you would excuse us please, Morgan.”

I blinked in surprise. I’d never seen this guy before, so how did he know who I was? “Have we met?” I asked, though I knew the answer.

Dr. Neely shook his head. “No, but the nurses told me you were here.” He reached out his hand. “I’m Dr. Neely,” he said, putting on a charming smile.

I shook his hand. We had a brief who-can-squeeze-harder contest, but since The Healing Circle was crawling with demons, I decided I’d better give up before I learned the hard way that Dr. Neely was one of them. He didn’t quite have the physique of your stereotypical host, but he was close enough to make me cautious. There was a glint of amusement in his eyes that told me he knew
exactly
what I was thinking, and I decided on the spot that I didn’t like him one bit. Andy’s body language showed me he shared my opinion.

“Pleased to meet you,” I said, my voice oozing insincerity.

“Likewise,” Dr. Neely answered. He sounded more sincere than I did, but not by much. “Now, if you wouldn’t mind excusing us?”

“Never mind,” Andy said. “I’m ready to get out of here. Morgan’s here to take me home.”

Dr. Neely raised an eyebrow at that. No doubt he knew Andy was supposed to go home with our parents, but he didn’t comment. “Just as soon as I’ve had a chance to examine you.”

But Andy shook his head. “No. Now. I’ve been in this place long enough.”

Dr. Neely looked stern. “I’m afraid I can’t discharge you without examining you first.”

“I don’t need your permission to leave.” Andy gave me a significant look, and I took the hint. I took hold of the handles of his wheelchair as he released the brake.

Dr. Neely frowned. “This is medically inadvisable,” he said, blocking the doorway.

Andy didn’t answer, and I started pushing him toward the door. I’d have been happy to run over Dr. Neely if necessary. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do if he called the nurses and orderlies to stop me, but I’d cross that bridge only if I had to. He had no legal right to keep Andy here against his will.

Dr. Neely held his ground until we were almost on top of him, then took a quick step to the side. I bent close to Andy’s ear as I pushed him down the hall.

“We’re leaving without your personal effects,” I pointed out.

“I don’t care,” he said tightly. “Just get me the hell out of here.”

I was happy to oblige.

My parents weren’t so easy to defuse. They were furious with me for taking Andy away from them—I think they were hoping that they could brainwash him into hosting again if they got to spend lots of “quality time” with him. My mom demanded I allow her to speak with him, but he communicated to me with a shake of the head that he didn’t want to. I told her he was sleeping.

After the phone call from hell, I made lunch for Andy and me. I’m not much of a cook, so this elegant lunch consisted of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches washed down with skim milk, but Andy didn’t complain, and I figured PB&J counted as comfort food. Something we both needed.

Afterward, I helped Andy drag himself to the living room couch. I should have set out for the courthouse, but instead I sat beside him on the couch. He looked at me warily, and I cleared my throat.

“I was wondering,” I started, then almost talked myself out of the question. But the fact was that Lugh’s comments last night continued to ricochet across my brain and I wouldn’t rest easy unless I asked. Of course, I wasn’t likely to rest easy even if I did.

Andy raised his eyebrows, but otherwise waited patiently for me to continue.

“You remember when I was thirteen, and I spent a week at The Healing Circle?” I asked. Andy was three years older than me, so I figured there was a chance he might know something I didn’t.

“Yeah,” he said cautiously. His caution immediately triggered my suspicious nature.

“Did anything…weird happen while I was there?”

He frowned at me. “You mean other than you almost dying?”

Don’t ask me why, but something about the look in his eyes or the expression on his face made me think he knew exactly what I was talking about. My first impulse was to go into overdrive and demand he tell me whatever it was he knew. But though I’d always thought of Andy as a strong, tough guy, the man sitting in my apartment was not the big brother I’d once known. There was something distinctly fragile about him, and it wasn’t just his gaunt frame. I did my best to rein myself in and be gentle.

“I mean I don’t remember a thing about my stay,” I said, and I think I managed not to sound impatient. “Lugh says there’s something hinky about that. He says that he can’t access those memories, and that it has nothing to do with me having been drugged to the gills.”

Andy shrugged and shifted uncomfortably on the sofa. “Every time I saw you, you were too out of it to even recognize me,” he said, his gaze fixed on the floor. “I don’t think it’s surprising that you don’t remember.”

I narrowed my eyes at him, but since he was so fascinated with my exciting beige carpet, he didn’t notice. “
Lugh
thinks it’s surprising.”

Another shrug, and still he didn’t look at me. “Maybe it is. Or maybe he’s got some hidden agenda.” He finally raised his eyes to mine. “Once upon a time, I trusted the demons. Now I know better.”

The haunted look in his eyes made me long for the opportunity to beat the crap out of Raphael.

“What did he do to you, Andy?” I found myself asking, though I wasn’t sure I wanted to know. “He seemed pretty convinced he was one of the good guys.”

Andy laughed bitterly. “Yeah, right.” He shook his head. “He knows exactly what he is, and he doesn’t give a damn. Never make the mistake of trusting him, even when he seems to be on the same side.”

“Do you have to talk in riddles? Can’t you just tell me what the hell happened?”

Andy shook his head again, and his chin took on a stubborn set with which I was intimately familiar. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

It took a lot of tongue-biting, but I managed to let the subject drop, reminding myself that he’d been through ten years of hell and maybe he needed me to give him a break for the time being. Besides, I’d told Lugh I didn’t want to know if anything fishy took place while I was at the hospital.

Too bad just knowing that my memory was fucked up in a way even a demon couldn’t understand made me too uneasy to let the questions go.

I managed to be late to the rescheduled exorcism, which didn’t exactly endear me to the judge. I held my breath, fearing I was about to be fined to within an inch of my life, but she let it slide. It was my lucky day.

The exorcism went smoothly, my power easily forcing the demon out of its unwilling human host. And to top it off, the host was one of the lucky twenty percent whose mind remained intact after the exorcism. Traumatized as all hell, probably needing some serious therapy, but alive and sane. I wished I didn’t know the truth about demons, wished I didn’t know that exorcism didn’t actually kill them, just sent them back to the Demon Realm. It meant the son of a bitch who’d possessed this poor guy could come back to the Mortal Plain for fresh meat anytime he felt like it.

One of the many unpalatable truths I’d learned from Lugh was that, while possessing a human host against his or her will was most definitely illegal in our world, it wasn’t in the Demon Realm. That was the status quo Lugh had vowed to change when he’d ascended to the throne, and it was the reason Dougal and his supporters had staged their palace coup. I might not feel like much of a hero, but I truly believed that in helping Lugh, I served a worthy cause. Of course, I was also in it for self-preservation, seeing as Lugh’s enemies wanted him dead.

I made a couple of stops on my way home, to pick up Andy’s things from the hospital, and to stop by his apartment to pack up some clothes and other essentials. I rushed through everything, feeling edgy even as I told myself Raphael couldn’t have found Andy this fast, even if he
was
on the Mortal Plain.

When I let myself into my apartment, I was not what you’d call pleased to discover that, while I was right and Raphael hadn’t killed my brother while I was gone, Andy did have a visitor.

I let the door slam closed behind me, tossing my keys onto a side table and counting backward slowly from a hundred. I took another look at Adam and decided to start at a thousand instead.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, ever the gracious hostess. Habit and longing made me glance quickly at the answering machine, my baser nature hoping Brian had called no matter how much I told myself I didn’t want him to. But there were no messages.

Adam had made himself at home, settling into the couch, helping himself to one of my bottles of expensive birch beer, and propping his feet on my coffee table. Andy, tension radiating from his every pore, sat on the love seat with his arms crossed over his chest and his gaze fixed on the carpet.

At least Adam hadn’t shot him again, I thought sourly as I once again fantasized about Tasering the hell out of Adam. He liked pain, but he felt it was far better to give than receive, and I was sure he wouldn’t enjoy the Taser. Certainly he hadn’t seemed to the last time I’d used it on him.

Adam swung his feet off the coffee table and sat up straight, but he drained the remains of the birch beer before answering. He sighed in satisfaction as he put the empty bottle down. “Almost as good as a
real
beer.”

I started counting backward again, this time from a million. I figured I could go all the way down to zero without feeling much less irritated.

“Unless you’d like me to practice some innovative uses for empty bottles,” I growled, “you’d better tell me what the fuck you’re doing in my apartment.” I gave Andy a dirty look, wondering why he’d let Adam in.

Andy held his hands up in surrender. “I didn’t open the door,” he said. “Your
friend
got a key from the super.”

Adam’s eyes gleamed, and he ignored the interplay between me and my brother. “Just what kind of innovative uses do you have in mind?”

Naturally, I blushed like a little girl. “Cracking it on your head seems like a good idea.”

He exaggerated a frown. “And here I thought you were creative.”

“Adam…”

“Come sit down,” he said, patting the couch beside him.

I figured I had two options. I could Taser him and drag him out into the hall, or I could sit and listen to whatever he had to say. I’d prefer the Taser option, but since he’d gotten into the apartment once without my help, I supposed he’d be able to do it again, so all I’d accomplish was to piss him off.

I took a seat next to Andy, who still showed no inclination to acknowledge Adam’s presence. I put my hand on his shoulder.

“You all right, bro?” I asked softly.

He nodded, but didn’t answer. I couldn’t blame him for being reticent around the man who’d shot him. Of course, I also knew the level of brutality Adam was capable of. If he suspected Andy knew things he wasn’t telling…

I gave Adam my best marrow-freezing glare. “If you ever hurt my brother again…”

He gave me another one of those faux-innocent looks in return. “I can’t imagine what you’re talking about.”

I gritted my teeth. “Like hell you can’t! Now tell me what you’re doing in my apartment before I get impatient with you.”

He snickered. “I don’t have a time machine.”

“You’re in
my
place—I’m the only one who gets to be a smart-ass here.”

His expression told me he was sorely tempted to continue the comedy routine, but he managed to control himself. “I have news for you.”

The way my life was going, I subscribed to the “no news is good news” theory, but I was running out of excuses to bury my head in the sand. Tension thrumming through my body, I sat up straighter and waited for him to continue.

“This may have nothing to do with us, or with Lugh,” Adam said, “but we’ve had a rather…strange case come up.”

“By ‘we,’ do you mean Special Forces?” I asked.

He nodded. “This isn’t anything we’re sharing with the general public, so I hope you’ll be circumspect and keep it to yourself.” He waited for me to nod my agreement before he continued. “A brand-new demon host was found in an alley late last night. The ceremony to invite his demon in was only two days ago, but he was found catatonic, very obviously no longer possessed.”

I shivered in a nonexistent chill. “What happened to him?”

“Good question. I interviewed his family to see if there was anything unusual about his situation. I found out the Grand Poobah of their chapter of the Spirit Society had instructed the host to invite a specific demon, using his True Name.”

By “Grand Poobah,” I assumed Adam meant the Regional Director, a man by the name of Bradley Cooper. A close personal friend of my mom and dad, and one of the slimiest bastards I’d ever met who wasn’t a politician or a lawyer. But for all that I couldn’t stand the guy, I’d never heard of him taking that kind of a personal interest in one particular member of the Society. Nor had I ever heard of him wanting to summon a particular demon by name.

“You think it’s Raphael,” Andy said in a voice barely louder than a whisper. “You think he’s come back and abandoned his host so no one will know who he’s in.”

Adam shrugged. “The thought has occurred to me.”

“Lugh didn’t think Raphael would trust his buddies enough to tell them his True Name,” I said.

Adam frowned at me. “Lugh must know it, and if
he
knows it, then I can’t imagine Dougal doesn’t.”

I cocked my head curiously. “Why
must
Lugh know it?” I asked, racking my brain to remember whether Lugh had out and out denied knowing, or if he’d just led me to believe he didn’t.

“Because he’s the king,” Adam replied, as if that were all the answer I needed.

“And the king is omniscient?”

But Adam seemed to realize he was on the verge of volunteering information and gave me a tight-lipped glare. “The number of demons who have True Names is relatively small. Only the truly extraordinary—like the royal family—earn them.”

“Have you?” I asked before I had time to think better of it.

He smiled. “If I had, I doubt I’d tell you. We may be working together, but you don’t exactly have my best interests at heart.”

“Like you have mine, you mean?” I retorted instantly.

He gave me one of his coldest looks. “As you know perfectly well, I don’t give a shit about you. But I do have
Lugh’s
best interests at heart, and you’re his host.”

I really hated the hurt that stabbed through my chest at his words. It wasn’t like he was telling me anything I didn’t already know. And it wasn’t like we’d ever been anything even resembling friends. I didn’t really care if he liked me or not, but the calculated indifference stung, and it took everything I had to keep from lashing out.

“Unfortunately,” Adam continued as if he hadn’t just taken that nasty jab at me, “with the original host catatonic, we have no idea who’s hosting Raphael now—if it really is him—and we don’t know what exactly he’s up to. He no longer has any reason to keep us in the dark about his plans, so you’d think he’d have contacted us as soon as he crossed to the Mortal Plain—unless he was up to something he knew Lugh wouldn’t approve of.”