Speak of the Devil

CHAPTER 2

I offered to make a pot of coffee, because caffeine is my drug of choice. I expected Adam to decline. We weren’t exactly bosom buddies, so when he accepted my offer, I knew there was something else he wanted to talk about. Knowing him, I wouldn’t like the subject, but I hoped it would be better than brooding about the lawsuit.

My financial situation had reduced me to el-cheapo store-brand coffee instead of the freshly ground beans I much preferred. At least it still smelled good and packed the caffeine punch I needed. I brought two mugs of coffee to the table and handed one to Adam before taking my seat once more. I suppose it would have been more hostesslike to move this party into the living room, but somehow that seemed too… cozy.

Adam regarded his mug suspiciously, then grimaced when he took a tentative sip. I took my own sip and had to admit, it was pretty bad. I’d made it extra strong, and that only served to enhance the bitterness.

I shrugged as casually as I could manage. “You want gourmet coffee, stick with Dominic.”

Dominic is Adam’s boyfriend. The two of them had been involved even before the court ordered Dominic’s demon, Saul, to be exorcized, but the relationship had only grown stronger since then. Dominic’s a really nice guy, and he’s also the best cook I’ve ever known. He’d been thinking of opening his own restaurant lately, and I really hoped he’d do it. I was sure the place would be the talk of the town.

One corner of Adam’s mouth lifted in a grin. “I have every intention of sticking with Dominic, and it’s not because of the coffee. Or the food.”

As usual, my cheeks heated with a blush. Like I said, Adam is into S&M, and Dominic is the M part of the equation. I wasn’t quite as horrified by it now as I had been when I’d first found out, but I wasn’t exactly comfortable with my knowledge, either. Adam loved watching me squirm when he made references to the kinkier side of his relationship with Dom.

But apparently today he wanted more than just to see me squirm. “I have a proposition for you,” he said. “It won’t help you afford the gourmet stuff, but it might help you upgrade from this swill to bad coffee.”

I had no idea what Adam was talking about, but I already knew my answer. “I’m not interested.”

He laughed. “Nothing indecent,” he assured me. “I was just thinking that, considering your current situation, you might benefit from having someone to split the rent and groceries with.”

I was so surprised I practically sloshed my coffee out of my cup. “You mean Saul, don’t you?”

Saul had originally been Dominic’s demon. He’d been attacked by God’s Wrath, the most militant of the anti-demon hate groups, and although he’s one of those demons who finds pain fascinating enough to be pleasurable, the attack had been too much for him. He’d struck back. One of his attackers had died on the spot, and another had died in the hospital a few days later. The law is very strict where demon conduct is concerned. If a demon commits a violent crime, even in self-defense, he’s going to be exorcized. Adam had asked me to perform the exorcism, and it was the first time I’d ever felt bad about exorcizing a demon.

Saul was also one of Lugh’s lieutenants, so when Lugh decided to set up his court on the Mortal Plain, he’d wanted to summon Saul back from the Demon Realm, where he’d been banished after the exorcism. Lugh had wanted Dominic to host Saul again, but Dom had refused the “privilege.” Although he and Saul had been close, Dom hadn’t been willing to give up what he had with Adam to host Saul once more.

We’d found another host for Saul—Dick, a mentally challenged product of Dougal’s human breeding program. The poor guy had been raised since infancy to believe his only purpose in life was to host a demon, and so when I’d exorcized the bad-ass demon who’d possessed him, the majority of Lugh’s council agreed he’d be the perfect host for Saul. After all, he wouldn’t have much of a life on his own, what with his complete lack of social skills and his limited intelligence.

Brian and I had been the sole holdouts. We both thought it immoral to take advantage of Dick’s childlike naiveté, but we’d been overruled.

Adam’s jerky nod confirmed the identity of my would-be roommate.

“Trouble in paradise?” I asked, and I couldn’t help the nasty edge that had slipped into my voice. I don’t think I was ever going to get over my disgust at Saul’s possession of poor Dick.

Anger glinted in Adam’s eyes, but he answered mildly enough. “The three of us cannot continue living together indefinitely, and I’d be happy to foot the bill for his rent.”

Saul had been staying with Adam and Dom ever since his return to the Mortal Plain, but I supposed it was an awkward arrangement. After all, Adam and Saul had been lovers once, but Adam had clearly chosen Dom over Saul.

I shook my head. “You can’t seriously believe I’m willing to share my apartment with Saul.” True, Saul wasn’t to blame for the council’s decision to summon him into Dick, but far be it from me to be rational. I couldn’t help holding it against Saul, whether it was his fault or not.

“You need the money, don’t you? Besides, it wouldn’t hurt for you and Lugh to have a bodyguard, and this would be a way to arrange it without it looking suspicious.”

“I don’t need a bodyguard!” I protested, and felt a sense of déjà vu. This was beginning to sound like my argument with Brian.

“Are you sure about that?”

I didn’t answer, because, of course, I wasn’t sure. Unlike most demon hosts, I’ve retained full control of my body while being possessed. With some practice, and with the help of extenuating circumstances, I’d learned how to let Lugh take control, letting him use his demon strength and healing ability to defend me when necessary. However, now that I’d finally learned to do it at will, I’d discovered that nothing comes without a price.

I’d been sick as a dog for about three days after the last time I’d let Lugh take over. The experience left me less than anxious to let him in again, so in reality, a demon bodyguard wasn’t a bad idea at all. But talk about cramping my style!

“Have you forgotten you’re not the only one who has a boyfriend?” I asked.

Adam rolled his eyes. “I’m sure you could work something out if you wanted to.” The muscles in his jaw twitched, and his lips pressed tightly together. He was keeping his temper under control, but just barely.

“You’re probably right, but I don’t want to.” Okay, I bought into both of Adam’s arguments—that I needed the money and that a bodyguard could be useful. But Saul was pretty much a complete stranger to me, and whether it was fair of me or not, I already had a pretty bad impression of him. How could I share my small, cramped apartment with the guy?

I expected Adam to let go of the reins of his temper and yell at me. I’m a pro at bringing out the worst in him. But instead, he bowed his head and his shoulders slumped.

“So you won’t do it for yourself,” he said, speaking to the tabletop instead of me, “and I know you won’t do it for me.” He raised his eyes to mine, and I could see how much this conversation was costing him. “Would you do it for Dominic?”

I blinked in surprise. “For Dominic? Why is he having a problem with Saul? I thought the two of them were great friends.”

Adam let out a mournful sigh. “As far as Dom’s concerned, they are. But I’ve known Saul a long time. I told you, we’ve been friends since we came to the Mortal Plain. And I can clearly see that what he feels for Dom is more than just friendship.”

“Oh.” I couldn’t think of anything more to add.

“Dom doesn’t seem to have picked up on it yet, but he will eventually. And when he does, things are going to get even more … awkward than they are now.”

I shook my head. “So why doesn’t Saul get his own place?”

“He will, but it’s going to take time. Remember, he’s a man with no identity. No Social Security number, no driver’s license, no ID … You get the idea. I’m working on fixing that, but in case you’ve forgotten, I’m a cop. If I don’t tread carefully, I’ll get myself into a hell of a lot of trouble.”

I snorted. “Since when do you ‘tread carefully’? I can’t even begin to count the number of laws you’ve broken since I’ve known you.”

He nodded. “In controlled circumstances, where I’m taking action myself. Not in circumstances where I have to rely on others to keep their mouths shut. I can’t manufacture an identity for Saul all by myself, but I have to be very, very careful who I approach. So it’s taking longer than I’d hoped.”

I might not like Adam much, but I did like Dom, and I certainly didn’t want him to get stuck in the middle when he figured out that Saul wanted more than friendship. But despite all the rational arguments for why I should take him in, I just couldn’t do it.

“Ask Andy,” I said, shaking my head. “He’s got a spare room in his apartment, and he’s not exactly raking in the bucks, either.”

Andy is my brother. He has twice been the host for the demon Raphael, Lugh’s youngest brother—once voluntarily, and once very much not so. Recently, Raphael had released Andy by taking a new host. Both Andy and I were struggling with guilt, since we’d allowed Raphael to take over another, very much unwilling host. Andy had been reclusive and sullen ever since Raphael took his new host, so I wasn’t surprised when Adam told me he’d already asked and been refused.

“I suppose I could ask Brian,” Adam said doubtfully. “But there’d be nothing in it for him, and he’s not as … involved as you are.”

I sighed. “Give me a couple of days to think about it, okay?” I couldn’t believe those words were leaving my mouth, but it was too late to take them back.

Adam echoed my sigh. “Thanks.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but Adam held up his hand to stop me.

“I know you haven’t agreed to anything,” he said. “I’m just thanking you for at least thinking about it.” He smiled, making the laugh lines around his eyes crinkle. “Why don’t you come over for dinner tonight? You can get acquainted with Saul a bit and get a good meal in your belly.” He pushed his mug away, having drunk at most two sips of the coffee. “And get some decent coffee in your system.”

I had never yet found the will to refuse a home-cooked meal from Dominic, and today was no exception. My mouth started watering at the offer, and there was no way I could settle for ramen noodles with that kind of temptation.

I hadn’t seen Saul since we’d summoned him to the Mortal Plain, a little more than a week ago. His host was a successful product of Dougal’s eugenics program in Houston—Dougal’s idea of success being a host with superhuman capabilities and the mental capacity of a turnip. The Houston facility had managed to breed an amazing ability into its lab-created hosts: the ability to shape-shift.

No, I don’t mean these Houston hosts can turn into werewolves. But when a demon possesses one of these hosts, it can rearrange and restructure the host’s appearance. The bad guys had used this ability to change Dick into a replica of a human being they had murdered.

I knew Saul had been working on changing his host’s appearance. It wouldn’t do for him to continue looking like Devon Brewster III, who, as far as the authorities knew, was on the loose somewhere with a rogue demon in residence. So when I knocked on Adam’s door and a complete stranger answered, my mind knew this had to be Saul. But my instinctive paranoia made me back hastily away anyway.

Saul hadn’t gone for the stereotypical drop-dead gorgeous look of your standard demon host, but he wasn’t painful to look at, either. He had made himself both taller and leaner than Brewster, and banished the signs of middle age. If I hadn’t known better, I’d have put him somewhere in his late twenties. He’d squared off Brewster’s jaw, changed the color of his eyes from blue to hazel, accentuated his cheekbones, and given him a substantially larger nose. He’d also changed the salt-and-pepper hair to pure pepper, though that might have come from a bottle. All in all, I’d say there was nothing about him that even remotely resembled the previous appearance of his host.

When I got over my moment of surprise, I blurted the first thing that came to mind. “Wow, that must have hurt.” When Raphael had moved out of my brother’s body, he, too, had taken one of the Houston superhosts who, not coincidentally, was Devon Brewster’s adopted son, Tommy. To demonstrate the abilities of this strain of superhost, Raphael had temporarily changed the shape of Tommy’s nose, and he’d made it clear just how much that small change had hurt.

Saul grinned, an expression that reminded me of Adam. “Yes, it did,” he agreed, and I belatedly remembered that Saul really liked pain.

Great. It looked like Saul had Adam’s taste for making me squirm. I willed myself not to blush, but my body never seems to obey my commands. I decided then and there that there was no way I was sharing my apartment with Saul.

I pushed past him into Adam’s house, then frowned as I realized I still thought of this as Adam’s house when Dom lived here, too. But I had to admit that, except for in the kitchen, Dom hadn’t left much of a mark on the place. Of course, considering what his rat hole of a house in South Philly had looked like, that was probably a good thing.

I breathed deeply, expecting to catch the scent of Dominic’s cooking, which usually filled the house. Instead, I caught a noseful of way-too-strong aftershave and sneezed three times in rapid succession.

I glanced at Saul through watering eyes. “What did you do, bathe in the stuff?”

His nostrils flared as he sniffed the air. He frowned, as if just noticing the overpowering fumes. “Too strong?”

I rolled my eyes. “Uh, yeah.” I tried breathing through my mouth, but ended up tasting it in the back of my throat instead.

Saul shrugged. “I’ve been without my human senses for a while. I suppose I’m overcompensating.”

We must have been taking longer than expected to make our way into the kitchen, because Adam came looking for us. As soon as he got within about five feet of Saul, he recoiled.

“Agh!” he said, his nose wrinkled in disgust. “Remind me never to let you borrow my aftershave again. Did you leave any for me, or did you use the whole bottle?”

The stuff was so strong, I hadn’t even recognized it as Adam’s scent until he spoke. I’d always found the scent sexy on Adam, but Saul might have just ruined it for me forever.

Saul gave him a chagrined look. “Morgan was just pointing out that I’d overdone it.” He sighed. “Guess I’ll go take another shower.”

I saw that the ends of his hair were still damp. If the aftershave were even mildly bearable, I’d have told him I’d live with it. As it was, I couldn’t wait to get rid of him. Adam made a shooing motion with his hand, and Saul trudged to the stairs.

The scent lingered after he was gone. I met Adam’s eyes, and he had no trouble reading my thoughts.

“He’ll tone it down soon,” he said. “You can’t imagine what it’s like to experience physical sensations, even tastes and scents, when you first set foot on the Mortal Plain. He’ll overdo it for a little while, then he’ll start acting more like a normal person.”

I regarded Adam skeptically. “Did you bathe in perfume when you first came to the Mortal Plain?”

Adam’s frown told me the answer was no. He hastened to explain. “Okay, so Saul’s a bit of a hedonist. But once he gets reacclimated, it won’t be so bad.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Where is everybody?” Dominic called from the kitchen. “Dinner’s almost ready.”

Adam made a sweeping gesture toward the kitchen. “I don’t know about you, but I have no inclination to wait for Saul before we start eating.”

My nose was starting to recover from the shock, so I could take in the cooking smells, and my stomach grumbled its opinion. I was halfway to the kitchen before Adam finished talking.

Saul joined us at the kitchen table about five minutes into the meal. Apparently, showering at superhuman speed was one of his talents.

As soon as Saul entered the room, I felt the tension that Adam had mentioned. Maybe only because Adam had warned me, but I think even someone as dense as me would have noticed it—though it was a subtle brand of tension.

The three of them joked and laughed amiably, and Dominic practically glowed when anyone praised his cooking. But there was still something slightly … off. Perhaps it was in the way Saul looked at Dom, with a hint of wistfulness in his expression. Or perhaps Adam was making more possessive little gestures than usual. He did seem to go out of his way to touch Dom. Dom had told me once that Adam was insecure. I had a hard time seeing Adam that way. To me, he always seemed a pillar of self-confidence. Arrogance, actually. But I had to admit, he did rather resemble a man afraid he was going to lose his lover.

Call me a cynic, but I suspected the reason Adam wanted Saul out was more for his own sake than Dom’s.

You could never get out of Dom’s kitchen without eating dessert, and tonight was no exception. It was a simple cheesecake, no fancy toppings, no froufrou flavors, but it was the best I’d ever eaten.

The conversation came to a bit of a lull as we were sipping the dark, bold Italian roast coffee that topped off the meal. I suck at small talk—ask anyone, they’ll agree—but unfortunately that didn’t always stop my gums from flapping at inopportune moments.

So as some light, pleasant after-dinner conversation, I looked at Saul and blurted, “What’s the deal with you and Raphael, anyway?”

There was a lot I still didn’t know about Saul, and I had to admit I was curious. It wasn’t until we’d summoned him to the Mortal Plain that I’d learned his true identity: He was Raphael’s son. Raphael’s estranged son. I didn’t know anyone who actually liked Raphael—Andy and I both hated him—but I think even we didn’t hate him as much as Saul did.

My words were about as welcome as a cockroach parade. All three men turned to look at me with varying degrees of disapproval.

I’ll admit, I knew I was in the wrong. This wasn’t the right time to discuss Saul’s relationship with Raphael. But once I’d hurled the question out there, I wasn’t willing to take it back.

I shrugged as if unconcerned by the glares the guys were shooting at me. “Come on. It’s a fair question, and I’ve waited more than a week to ask it. I’m not usually that patient.” I could have asked Lugh about it, but we hadn’t been communicating a whole lot lately. I was having a lot of trouble sleeping, and Lugh didn’t want to disturb those hours I managed with our lucid dream conversations.

“It’s none of your business why Raphael and I don’t get along,” Saul finally said, breaking the tense silence.

It didn’t escape my notice that Saul had said “Raphael” rather than “my father.” Whatever it was that lay between them, it was deep-seated.

“You’re both part of Lugh’s council, and I’m Lugh’s host,” I retorted. “If there’s a problem between you and Raphael, I need to know about it.” I tried to sound like the voice of authority, but I’m not sure I succeeded.

“You know there’s a problem. There’s no reason to go into the specifics.”

To my surprise, Dominic cut in before I could formulate my reply. “There’s also no reason not to,” he said. “Why should it be a secret?”

I glanced at Dom, wondering if he knew the answer himself. But I was pretty sure he wouldn’t tell me even if he did. It was Saul’s story to tell—or not to tell, as the case may be.

Saul’s mouth pursed like he’d just eaten something nasty, but he caved under Dominic’s persuasion.

“Fine. I’ll tell you all about my relationship with my sire.” His eyes narrowed, and I could see the muscles in his jaw working. “I refuse to call him my father when the only reason he sired me was to piss off Lugh.”

I felt my eyebrows arch in mingled surprise and curiosity. I was never much into gossip—you have to have girlfriends for that, and I’d always related better to guys—but this definitely piqued my interest.

“Back up one moment,” I said, despite my curiosity. “There’s something I don’t understand. You guys are incorporeal in the Demon Realm. So how do you, er, reproduce?” I wondered if that was a rude question, and I also wondered if the answer would embarrass me, but Saul answered matter-of-factly enough.

“We don’t have bodies as you would understand them, but we are still distinct entities. It might help if you think of us as collections of energy. It’s not a very accurate description, but it works as an analogy. When we mate, the child we create draws energy from both parents. The more powerful the parents, the more energy the child draws. If the parents are of unequal power, then the more powerful parent has to contribute more energy to protect the less powerful one. Otherwise, the less powerful one can be drained completely and die.

“My mother was a … friend of Lugh’s, although she was of a much lesser rank and was much less powerful. Lugh is egalitarian enough to care about the lower-ranked demons as much as about the royals and elite, and he and Raphael fought about it. Raphael thought Lugh should ‘stick to his own kind.’ When Lugh didn’t agree, Raphael struck out at him through my mother. He convinced her to have a child with him. He promised to contribute the lion’s share of the energy and to protect her from the drain. But, as usual, he lied. He put in as little as possible and let my mother pour her … life force into me.

“My mother was destroyed, and I was born a royal without a royal’s power.” He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing.

“It’s not unheard-of for demons of such wildly disparate power to have children,” Adam said softly when it seemed that was all Saul had to say. “But it is unusual. When it happens, it is usually the more powerful parent who is most … depleted. They return to full strength eventually, but it can take centuries for them to regenerate all the energy they lost. If Delilah had known Raphael better, she’d have realized he’d never put himself in such a position. But she didn’t, and the lure of having a royal child was too much for her to resist.

“We are something of an elitist society, I’m afraid, and had Raphael followed through on his promise, her rank would have been greatly elevated.”

I rolled all that information around inside my head, wondering what to make of it. I’d never really speculated on demon reproduction before, but I guessed I understood Saul’s explanation—except for one thing.

“Why did Raphael do it?” I asked. Yes, I hated him. Yes, he was ruthless, and selfish, and at least borderline evil. He was even capable of being petty. But for all of that, there was a reason behind everything he did. Not a good reason, mind you, at least not from my point of view, but a reason nonetheless.

“I told you,” Saul said with a little snarl. “To piss Lugh off. And because he could.”

My every instinct told me there was more to it than that. I glanced at Adam and raised an eyebrow. He shrugged and shook his head, which I took to mean he shared my opinion but didn’t know Raphael’s motivation, either.

I wasn’t about to approach Raphael to ask him about it. But surely Lugh knew exactly what his brother had been up to. I sent him a mental message to talk to me in my dreams tonight. I was pretty sure he’d grant my request.