The Devil's Due mk-3 Read online

  I arrived before Claudia and tried to keep myself from staring at the huge lobster tank. When I was a kid, I’d always been fascinated by the lobster tanks, where customers could handpick which lobster was going to die to feed them that night. At the time, I didn’t really make the connection that those bright red crustaceans that appeared on our plates were the same dark, drab creatures that crawled around in those tanks. Now that I knew better, I felt sorry for the poor, doomed things. Yeah, I’m a tough broad all right—with a bleeding heart.

  Claudia arrived at quarter after seven, full of profuse apologies. She had indeed come straight from work, where one of her meetings had run late. I silently praised my own wisdom in choosing a job that would let me set my own hours. I didn’t make the kind of money Claudia Brewster did, but at least I had as much free time as I wanted. Or I used to, before I became the demon king’s human host.

  “So, what’s the occasion?” I asked Claudia once we were seated and our drink orders were placed. I didn’t know her well enough to be sure, but she seemed a bit nervous. That didn’t do my own nerves much good.

  She smiled at me a bit sadly. “I really appreciate you looking into Tommy’s case for me. I wish you’d let me pay you, but since you won’t, I thought I’d at least buy you a nice dinner. You can order anything you want.”

  Well, that answered the question of who was paying. But I didn’t think it answered the question of why she’d called this meeting.

  I could have pressed her for more information ASAP. That would be my usual MO. But despite her spiffy gray power suit and her confident corporate facade, I sensed she was brittle underneath. Tact and diplomacy aren’t usually my strong suits, but my instincts were telling me to back off, and I usually listen to my instincts.

  Claudia ordered a lobster, probably as an additional signal that it was okay for me to do so as well. She declined the opportunity to go to the tanks and pick her victim. Even if the tanks hadn’t bothered me, I’d never dream of ordering lobster at Bookbinder’s. All around me, well-dressed businesspeople, dating couples, and families wore the embarrassing bibs they put on you when you ordered lobster. None of them seemed the least bit uncomfortable about how silly they looked, but I’d have been self-conscious the whole night. Of course, you didn’t have to wear the bib, but somehow it felt a little like cheating to refuse it.

  I managed not to laugh when they put the bib on Claudia. I think the struggle showed on my face, because her eyes twinkled a bit and her lips lifted in a hint of a smile.

  “I haven’t been here in years,” I said, feeling the need to make small talk even though I sucked at it. “I think we came here for every special occasion I could name when I was growing up, so I kind of burned out on the place.” I realized that could be taken as a complaint and felt my cheeks redden with embarrassment. I should really keep my mouth shut.

  Luckily, Claudia didn’t take offense. She grinned, and it was almost an impish expression—or maybe it just looked impish because the stupid bib was hiding the power suit. “Were you a chocolate cake kid or a strawberry shortcake kid?” she asked me, and I laughed.

  Bookbinder’s has the most ginormous desserts I’ve ever seen, and ordering that slice of chocolate cake the size of my head had always been the highlight of eating here when I was a kid. “Chocolate all the way,” I answered. “I was crushed when they stopped serving it.”

  “Me, too. Tommy always liked the shortcake, though. And he always managed to eat the whole thing without even being sick afterward.” Her smile wilted a bit at the memory.

  I’d never thought of myself as socially awkward. Abrasive, and maybe even bitchy, but not awkward. Claudia was making me reassess myself. It occurred to me that even before my life had gone to hell, I’d spent very little time with female friends. There’d been Valerie, who turned out not to be a friend at all, but most of the other women I’d known when I was younger now had husbands and young children. I’d never exactly fit in with the mainstream crowd, but I’d never felt quite so far on the outside as I did now.

  I really had to settle this thing with Adam and Dom. Messing up my sleep schedule was having a negative impact on my mood. In an effort to snap myself out of it, I fished out an oyster cracker from the jar on the table, then scooped out a tiny bit of horseradish from the condiment tray and dabbed it on the cracker. I popped it into my mouth, and the stinging bite of the horseradish cleared my head better than smelling salts.

  “If you don’t mind my asking,” I said when I could talk again, “why did you and your husband adopt Tommy? Given his past, he must have been quite a handful.”

  Claudia took a dainty sip of the fancy French wine she’d ordered before answering. “I was in a very bad accident when I was twenty-two,” she said. “The damage was extensive enough that I’ll never be able to have children of my own.” She swirled the wine around her glass, looking kind of lost. I wished I hadn’t asked, but before I could think of a graceful way to change the topic, she continued.

  “When my husband and I decided to adopt, we both agreed that we’d take in a child who’d be hard to place instead of going on a waiting list for the perfect baby. We fostered several children before Tommy came into our lives, but when he did. . we knew he was meant to be ours. It sounds corny, I know, but there you have it.” Again the sad smile.

  I couldn’t imagine how a child like Tommy, as troubled as he was, had managed to win the Brewsters’ hearts, but despite my big mouth, I knew better than to voice that particular opinion. As usual, though, I apparently wore my opinion on my face.

  “He was a very sweet child,” Claudia hastened to assure me. “He didn’t seem to remember anything about. . what happened to him. He was a great student and was popular with the other kids at school. It wasn’t until adolescence that things started to change.”

  “Yeah, puberty sucks,” I said, thinking of the changes that had overtaken my brother when he’d gone through puberty. That was when he’d turned into a Spirit Society drone, and I felt like I’d lost my big brother.

  Our food arrived, and I thought I was in for a reprieve from the unwise conversation I had started. But after the waiter left, Claudia ignored her steaming lobster and met my eyes over the table.

  “The sweet child I once knew is still in there,” she said. “Under all the baggage he carries and all the anger, there’s a decent human being.”

  “I believe you,” I lied, then turned my attention to my grilled salmon in hopes she wouldn’t read the lie on my face.

  “I don’t suppose I ever mentioned it,” Claudia said, and I hoped that her easy tone meant she hadn’t caught the lie, “but Devon and I also adopted two little girls.” Still ignoring her food, she dug through her purse for her wallet, then showed me a photograph of two children.

  I’d guess the older girl was about five, with thin brown hair, and a face I would have called plain if it weren’t for the infectious smile. The smaller girl was probably around three, and would have been adorable in her little froufrou pink dress even if she hadn’t been caught in the middle of a delighted laugh. The older girl stood behind her sister and had bent down to put her arms around her sister’s waist so that their smiling faces were on the same level.

  “They’re lovely,” I said, because what else were you supposed to say to someone who shows you pictures of their kids?

  “Yes, I think so, too.” There was something strangely sad in her voice as she tucked the wallet back into her purse. I wondered if I should ask about the girls’ backgrounds. They were probably hard-luck kids like Tommy. But Claudia was finally turning her attention to her lobster, and I decided I’d rather eat than talk.

  After the awkward and uncomfortable beginning, Claudia did us both a favor and took over the small talk reins for the remainder of the meal. The conversation wasn’t what I’d call stimulating, but it got us both through the meal without too many of those uncomfortable silences. My dinner was delicious, and Claudia and I shared a piece of strawberry shortcake a
fterward. In my opinion, it wasn’t as good as the chocolate cake they’d mysteriously dropped from the menu, but it was still a decadent treat. We managed to eat about half of it, which considering the size of the piece was an impressive accomplishment.

  I’d have been just as happy to hit the road after dessert, but Claudia ordered coffee, so I followed suit. And that was when she broached the real reason why she’d asked me to dinner.

  I could tell it was coming from the way her fingers tightened on her coffee cup. I’d known from the moment I’d laid eyes on her that there was something bothering her, and now I was going to find out what.

  “My husband and I are very thankful for everything you’ve done for us,” she said, not looking me in the eye.

  It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out I was about to be fired—though since I technically wasn’t working for her, it wasn’t really possible for her to fire me.

  “But you’ve decided you don’t need my services anymore,” I finished for her. I’d have been pissed as hell if I thought she was dropping me of her own free will. But there was no way the desperate woman who had first shown up at my office would give up on her son, unless she was under duress somehow.

  Strain showed in the stiffness of her posture and the tightness of her lips. She raised her chin and met my gaze. “I know it’s pointless,” she said, but there was no conviction in her words.

  We stared at each other a long while. Usually, I’d have bet on myself in any staring contest, but there was so much pain and unhappiness in her expression that I was the one who looked away first.

  “Who threatened you?” I asked, though I supposed it had to be Tommy and/or his cronies.

  “No one threatened me,” she said, but I didn’t believe her for a moment. “My husband and I have decided it’s time we accept reality and move on with our lives. We have to care for the children we still have.”

  Claudia didn’t strike me as the type who’d give in easily to threats. Either her husband was a wuss and convinced her to be a wuss with him, or the bad guys had come up with one hell of a scary threat. What would be enough to convince a mother to stop fighting for the life of her son? I remembered the picture of those two smiling little girls and figured I had my answer right there.

  Now, a wise person might have taken this as some kind of cue from the universe that it was time to back off of Tommy Brewster. I wasn’t exactly making a whole lot of progress, and I didn’t suppose my chances of finding an excuse to exorcize him were too good. If the bad guys were threatening the little girls, then any efforts I made could endanger innocent lives. Not to mention that as the demon king’s host, I had enough problems on my own without letting myself get obsessed with others’.

  But no one has ever accused me of being wise, and there was no way I was letting the demons get away with this.

  “You can accept whatever reality you want,” I said, “but I believe you’re right and that Tommy’s been possessed against his will. As an exorcist, I can’t just let that go.”

  Claudia stared into the depths of her empty coffee cup. “Did you know that that exorcist, Sammy Cho, committed suicide?”

  My heart made a very unpleasant thud in my chest, and I shook my head in disbelief. Adam had said Sammy was on vacation. I guess it turned out to be a permanent one.

  “I hadn’t heard,” I said, feeling a wave of sadness even though I hadn’t liked Sammy.

  “Maybe he felt guilty over what he did to Tommy.”

  It wasn’t hard to follow her train of thought. “Or maybe someone wanted to make sure he wouldn’t blab.”

  I hadn’t mentioned to Claudia the possibility that Sammy had been possessed, and I saw no reason to bring it up now, even though his “suicide” practically confirmed it. Whatever demon had taken him wanted to make absolutely sure no one could get proof that Sammy had lied, and it was no skin off the demon’s metaphorical teeth to have his host commit suicide. I could also see why Sammy’s death had left Claudia shaken.

  “If you or your family are being threatened, we have grounds to bring in the police.”

  “We’re not being threatened,” she reiterated, though I still didn’t believe her. “Your heart is in the right place. I really meant it when I said I appreciated all you’ve done. But it’s time for you to step aside.”

  I knew there had to be a good reason she was being like this. I knew she hadn’t just capriciously changed her mind, just like I knew her suddenly cool tone wasn’t personal. That didn’t stop my blood pressure from soaring.

  I pushed back my chair, threw my napkin on the table, and stood up. “Thanks for the lovely dinner.”

  I started to walk past her toward the door, but she caught hold of my arm and looked up at me beseechingly. “Please, Ms. Kingsley. Leave it alone.” Her eyes pleaded with me, and I felt almost like she was trying to convey some kind of secret message.

  Whatever the message was, I wasn’t getting it. I dropped my voice so it could barely be heard in the noisy restaurant. “Tell me who threatened you, and tell me what bad thing will happen if I keep investigating, and I’ll consider your request.”

  Her hand squeezed painfully tight on my arm, and her eyes flashed with mingled anger and alarm. “I can’t do that,” she answered just as quietly.

  “Fine.” I jerked my arm out of her grip, and this time when I headed for the door, she let me go.

  CHAPTER 15

  Because the LOLs had held me up so much this afternoon, I still had one load of laundry to get done when I got home from my wonderful dinner. Not feeling in the mood to do anything else, I schlepped my load down to the laundry room.

  I was in luck. All the machines were empty. I shoved my clothes into the washer and dug out some quarters. The small, claustrophobic room echoed with the sound of the water gushing in, covering the sound of footsteps so that I never heard anyone approach. When I picked up my laundry basket and stood, there were suddenly two super-sized men standing in the laundry room doorway.

  I live in a big building, so it’s not as if I would know all the tenants by sight, but these guys would have set my mental alarms ringing even if they hadn’t been wearing dark, wraparound sunglasses in a basement. Goon #1 smiled at me in sadistic anticipation, while Goon #2 made a meaty fist and held it up for display.

  They were too squat and ugly to be hosting demons—legal ones, at least—but they probably didn’t need supernatural strength to make my life miserable. I’m a pretty good fighter—when you’re family’s Spirit Society, you learn to stick up for yourself at an early age, unless you enjoy getting beaten to a pulp on a regular basis—but I didn’t like my chances against two men who had the look of professionals.

  In tandem, they advanced on me. My Taser was in my purse. I was paranoid enough to carry it around with me at all times, but now that I actually needed it I realized I wasn’t paranoid enough. I had to have it out and armed already, not tucked neatly in my purse.

  I didn’t have any brilliant ideas, but one thing I knew for sure was the laundry basket wouldn’t help my defense much. I screamed as loud as I could, the sound echoing nicely through the unfortunately deserted basement, and threw the laundry basket at my would-be assailants.

  As I’d hoped, they were momentarily startled, which gave me time to put the folding table between me and them while I shoved my hand in my purse. Very much contrary to my hopes, they recovered before I could even find the Taser, much less draw it.

  Goon #1 wasn’t about to let a little thing like a folding table get between him and his quarry. He leapt over it, coming straight at me while his partner continued to block the doorway. I didn’t have time to get my hand out of my purse before he was on me, but I managed an off-balance kick that hurt him just enough to annoy him. He charged me again, and I jabbed at his eyes with my fingers while I tried for his groin with my knee. He ducked out of the way of my jab, and turned his hips to take my knee on his thigh. Damn. Apparently he wasn’t expecting me to fight like a girl, and my
self-defense moves weren’t surprising him.

  He grabbed both my arms to keep me from trying to hit him again. I would have gone for another kick, except Goon #2 had waded in while I was distracted. His punch connected with my cheek, and if I hadn’t known better, I’d have sworn he’d just hit me with an anvil.

  I didn’t fall down, but only because Goon #1 still had hold of my arms. My head spun, and while I was trying to remember which way was up, a punch to the gut drove all the air out of my lungs. The goon hit me again, this time in the eye, and pain stabbed all the way through my head. But it wasn’t the pain of his fist that caused it. Lugh was trying to surface, coming to my rescue like a knight in shining armor. Considering these guys could probably beat me to death if they wanted to, I supposed I should let him.

  But then Goon #2 let go of my arms and allowed me to collapse to the floor in a puddle of misery.

  “This is just a friendly warning,” he said in a low, gravelly voice. “Stay out of Tom Brewster’s business.”

  I realized that meant the beating was over, and I no longer needed Lugh’s services. I’m sure he realized that, too, but he didn’t let up. He was going to exploit my semi-dazed state and steal the reins to my body. I concentrated on holding him off, but a poke in the gut with a toe reminded me I had more than one problem.

  “You hear me?” the goon prompted.

  Forming words while fighting for air, fighting nausea, fighting dizziness, and fighting Lugh wasn’t exactly easy. However, I figured if I didn’t answer, I was in for more pain, and Lugh was even more likely to win our battle. “Loud. . and. . clear,” I managed to gasp, and the goons, satisfied with a job well done, disappeared as silently as they had come.

  Lugh continued his barrage against my mental barriers, the pain spiking through my head so hard it drew a whimper from my throat. If that were the only pain I had to battle, I probably would have prevailed. Knowing I would eventually have to sleep and leave myself open to him, he would have bided his time rather than submitting me to what amounted to torture. But combined with the pain of the beating, it was too much. Hard though I tried to hold on, my mind slid closer and closer to oblivion. Tears of frustration welled in my tightly shut eyes.