The Devil's Playground mk-5 Read online

  “I’m going to exorcize you,” he said, and there was no missing the relief on William’s face. Relief that quickly faded when Raphael explained exactly what William was to do once he got back to the Demon Realm.

  “I can’t!” William wailed, almost hyperventilating. “If I start running my mouth, Dougal will throw me in prison!”

  Raphael made a soothing gesture with his hands. “Calm down, William. Hear me out before you panic.”

  William’s eyes showed too much white, and there was no missing the fact that he was still on the verge of panic, but he managed to rein it in. “Okay,” he said in a choked whisper.

  “The reason I was asking about your host’s condition is that I plan to summon you back in three days’

  time. That ought to be enough time for you to stir up plenty of trouble. But even if Dougal imprisons you, I can summon you back. If your host isn’t capable of performing the ceremony himself or isn’t willing to, then I’ll have one of my other human allies do the summoning and then transfer you back into your host.”

  I hoped that was just a soothing lie. No way did I want one of my friends to have to summon William the Wimpy.

  William bit his lip, still looking worried, though the panic was gone. “If my host is capable, he’ll be more than willing,” he said, almost absently. “He’s chased the ultimate high for his entire adult life, and now that he’s found it, he’d do anything to keep it.”

  My face scrunched up with disgust, but I didn’t say anything. Maybe someone as fucked-up as William’s host—if he was indeed as fucked-up as William said—was just better off if he could completely check out of reality.

  “Then it seems we have a plan,” Raphael said with satisfaction. “But if you have any thought of betraying me, remember that you will be summoned back into our custody. I don’t enjoy being cruel, but I will be if I find that you haven’t obeyed me.”

  William swallowed hard and nodded. “I won’t betray you. I swear it.”

  Raphael nodded in kingly approval. “Very well then. Give me your hand, and do not resist.”

  William’s hand was shaking when he held it out for Raphael to clasp, but he did as he was told.

  The exorcism took all of about forty seconds. I was impressed. I’d never timed myself performing an exorcism, but I knew it took me way more than forty seconds, and I was the most powerful exorcist I’d ever heard of. Of course, I’m not demon royalty, so I guess I was outclassed. Hmm. Outclassed by Raphael. Not a comfortable thought.

  When William was gone, his host collapsed to the floor, but it wasn’t because he was brain-damaged. Tears streamed down his face, and a piteous, wailing moan rose from his throat as his whole body began to shake. Sweat dewed his skin, and his eyes had an empty, glassy look to them.

  “What’s the matter with him?” I asked. I’d never seen a host act like this when his demon was exorcized before.

  Adam shook his head in what looked like disgust. “At a guess, I’d say he’s already having withdrawal symptoms.” William’s host raked one hand over his face, leaving five distinct, bloody scratches. Adam hastened to grab both his hands, at which point he started struggling and screaming. Who knows what he was actually seeing, but I was pretty sure it was nothing in this room.

  “This is going to be a very, very long three days,” Adam said, and I couldn’t help agreeing with him.

  Before we left Adam’s house, I decided that the next three days were going to be unbearable if I didn’t lay down some ground rules for Andy. Living with my older brother in a cramped apartment wasn’t going to be much fun in the first place, but living with him and his own personal thundercloud of doom was going to get old so fast he might not survive three whole days.

  I cornered him as soon as he set foot out the door, grabbing him by the arm and dragging him to a shadowed corner by the front stoop, where we could talk in relative privacy. His eyes widened at my manhandling, but he didn’t protest. I might have preferred it if he did—that would at least be a sign of life. That he used to be even worse than this was a sobering thought.

  I suppose, as his loving sister, I should have been warm and nurturing, full of sympathy and gentle words, but that was never my style. I didn’t have it in me to be as brutal as Raphael, but I was sick and tired of the kid gloves.

  “If you’re going to come live with me for three days,” I said, poking him in the chest, “then you’re going to need an attitude adjustment. I can’t have you sitting around my apartment crying, ‘Oh, woe is me,’ constantly, or I’ll go insane.”

  His jaw set stubbornly. “When have I ever said ‘Woe is me’?”

  No, my brother is not an idiot. He knew perfectly well what I meant. “Just stop it, Andy! So you’ve done some things you’re not proud of. So what? Who hasn’t? Deal with it and move on.”

  He laughed, but the bitterness in that laugh was thick enough to make me wince. “That’s your advice?”

  he asked, an angry glitter in his eyes. “Deal with it and move on?” He shook his head. “That’s cold even for you.”

  I decided to try a low blow. Anything to knock some sense into him. “Did you learn all this mopey poor-me shit from Raphael? Because he’s raised feeling sorry for himself to an art form, and you seem to be emulating him.”

  Andy’s wince and gasp proved my low blow had hurt plenty. Unfortunately, it didn’t seem to be a constructive sort of pain.

  “If you can’t bear to have me around, then I’ll take my chances on my own,” he said. “I don’t care if Lugh likes it or not. I may be on his council, but that doesn’t make me one of his subjects.”

  I’d been kidding myself to think that a few well-chosen words would fix whatever was wrong with him. “I think I liked you better when you were catatonic,” I muttered under my breath. Yeah, it was another low blow, and I’m not proud of myself for saying it.

  “You and Brian have a good time playing house,” he said, then pushed past me.

  I grabbed his arm before he could get too far. “You’re coming to my place,” I informed him. “I’m sick of your attitude, but that doesn’t mean I want you in the line of fire.”

  He jerked his arm from my grip. “You’re all heart.” He started walking away.

  “If you’re not at my apartment by nine A.M., I’m coming to get you,” I yelled at his back.

  He held up his hand in a gesture that was either an agreement, a sign to shut the hell up, or the finger—

  I couldn’t tell which in the darkness.

  While I’d been witnessing William’s exorcism, Brian had been at his apartment, packing a suitcase so he’d have everything he needed for an extended stay at my place. I arrived back at my apartment building to find him waiting for me in the lobby. He already had a key to my apartment, and he was already on my very short list of people who were allowed to come up without the front desk calling to ask my permission first. Now it was time for me to register him as a resident of my apartment, even if it was only on a temporary basis. His resident status would earn him a parking pass, and would mean he didn’t have to sign in at the front desk every time he came in without me.

  We rode the slow, cranky elevator up to my floor in silence, and it wasn’t an entirely comfortable silence. The issue of Lugh still lay between us, and I, for one, didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know if Lugh’s earlier intervention had made things better, or worse.

  The silence followed us into my apartment, and I felt so awkward I was tempted to offer Brian the guest room, even though that room would be Andy’s when he moved in tomorrow morning. Brian put down his suitcase, then pulled me into a hug. I wrapped my arms around his waist and gratefully leaned the side of my head onto his shoulder. Brian’s amazingly good at knowing when I need a hug. I’m not what you’d call a touchy-feely type, so these moments were few and far between.

  “Do you still love me?” I asked. I guess I was feeling needy at the moment.

  Brian’s arms tightened around me. “Of course I do. Ev
en during our worst moments, I never stopped loving you.”

  I swallowed past the lump in my throat. “And what about Lugh?”

  I felt him shrug, even though he didn’t let go. “I’ll learn to live with him.” He pushed me away slightly, then cupped my face in his hands, tilting my head up toward his as his thumbs stroked over my cheeks.

  “After what he said to me earlier, I can’t in good conscience ask you to get rid of him. Not when he can keep you from ever getting sick or hurt. When I asked you to pass him off to someone else, I didn’t fully think about what I was asking.”

  The lump in my throat ached. Something told me living with Lugh wasn’t going to be as easy as Brian was suggesting. Sure, he might logically admit that Lugh was good for me, and he might logically want me to have all the protections that came with being possessed. But emotions, damn them, aren’t logical. Jealousy would rear its ugly head again; I knew it.

  Brian bent and brushed his lips over mine. “Yes, I’m still jealous,” he said against my mouth, but it was hard to get too upset by the declaration when he was teasing me with butterfly kisses. “But one way or another, I’ll deal with it.”

  “I think it’s time to stop talking now,” I said, then pulled his head down to mine for a firmer, deeper kiss.

  “How’s your head?” he asked when we came up for air.

  As soon as he mentioned it, I noticed the lingering traces of the headache that had started when Lugh took control. It wasn’t bad anymore, just a minor discomfort.

  I stuck my lower lip out in an exaggerated pout. “It was fine until you made me start thinking about it.”

  Brian smiled at me, his eyes dark with desire. He pressed his hips firmly against me, letting me know how happy he was to have me in his arms at the moment. “Do you think maybe I can find some way to distract you?”

  I answered his lustful smile with one of my own. “There’s only one way to find out.”

  And wouldn’t you know it, I felt no pain for the rest of the night.

  I went to sleep cuddled in Brian’s arms, and woke up in Lugh’s living room. I considered complaining about it, but there wasn’t a whole lot of point to it, since my complaints never seemed to affect Lugh much.

  “What’s up?” I asked, feeling a bit wary, wondering if Lugh was distracting me with this dream so he could have a little private time with Brian.

  He smiled at me. “No, I’m going to butt out of the Brian situation for the time being.”

  Color me shocked! Lugh didn’t butt out often. As in ever.

  The smile turned to a mischievous grin. “I said for now, not forever. I have an idea what our next step should be, but right now, the two of you are doing just fine.” He gave a happy little sigh.

  I blushed a bit, knowing he’d enjoyed this evening’s romp with Brian as much as I had, but I think I was finally getting a bit desensitized, because I didn’t feel like I wanted to melt through my seat in humiliation.

  “If you’re not planning to play Dr. Phil, then why have you brought me here?”

  All signs of satisfaction faded from his face. “You asked me a question this evening—a question I told you I would answer later.”

  Enough had happened this evening that I almost forgot what the question was, but it came back to me fast. I’d asked Lugh if he’d really put Raphael in prison if he ended up back on the throne. Based on the look on his face, I didn’t think I wanted to hear the answer.

  “My brother has committed many, many crimes,” Lugh said regretfully. “I highly doubt I even know about all of them. I would be honor-bound to punish him.”

  “Even though he’s saved your life? Even if he’s instrumental in putting you back on the throne?” There was a hint of outrage in my voice. In case you haven’t noticed, I really despise Raphael. But there were moments—fleeting, but there nonetheless—where I saw shadows of myself in him. And that made it hard to hate him quite as much as I should.

  “Even so,” Lugh said. “I wouldn’t want to. For all his faults, I do love my brother. But I refuse to be the kind of king who alters the rules to suit his friends and family. Raphael has broken the law, and therefore he must be punished.”

  I could hear in his voice how much the idea hurt Lugh. When he said he didn’t want to, he meant it. But in his own way, he was as much of a stickler as Brian.

  “What exactly does it mean to be imprisoned in the Demon Realm? Raphael has described it as a fate worse than death, but I can’t say I understand.”

  Lugh shook his head. “No, you can’t. Imprisonment for us is to be shut away in what equates to a sensory deprivation chamber. Without bodies, we don’t feel physical sensations, but that doesn’t mean we don’t have senses. We can ‘see’ each other, we can ‘hear’ each other. We can interact. But in prison, we can do none of these things. The isolation is … extreme.” He met my eyes. “And we are nearly immortal beings. A life sentence …”

  I gasped at the horror of the idea.

  “I would not give Raphael a life sentence, although many would argue he deserves it. I can commute his sentence in light of the help he’s given me, but I can’t do away with it entirely without showing blatant favoritism. Even with a commuted sentence, he would … suffer.”

  Lugh’s explanation shone a whole new light on just how much Raphael was giving up by trying to restore him to the throne. I had to admit a grudging admiration. No matter what his faults, Raphael was as loyal a creature as I could imagine.

  “Do you think ill of me for my decision?” Lugh asked, although he had to know how I felt. It wasn’t like there were any secrets between us, at least not when the secrets were mine. But sometimes he liked me to articulate things, even when he knew what I was going to say.

  “I don’t think less of you,” I admitted. “You’re trying to be fair, which is a good thing. But I have to admit, I think more of Raphael right now than I did before.”

  Lugh closed his eyes, as if in pain. “So do I,” he said in a voice barely above a whisper. “So do I.”

  And the dream slipped away.

  Wednesday was the dawn of William’s first day stirring up trouble in the Demon Realm, but we didn’t expect to feel any ripple effects yet. Which was a good thing, because Wednesday night was the private training dinner at Dom’s restaurant. He’d invited all of Lugh’s council, and he’d also invited his family, which seemed to include approximately one third of the population of South Philly.

  Despite his conservative family’s disapproval of Dominic’s lifestyle, just about everyone showed up. Even his wicked stepmother, who looked like she couldn’t wait to get out of there the moment she set foot inside. My guess was that Dom’s father had bullied her into coming.

  Dom had put place cards on the tables, so we all knew where we were supposed to sit. Of course, that did make the few empty seats with place cards in front of them very conspicuous, but it wasn’t as bad as Dom had feared. He’d been afraid Wicked Stepmom would convince a bunch of the older women not to show.

  The only no-show among Lugh’s council was Raphael, but that was by plan. Someone had to stay at Adam’s place and take care of William’s host, who so far had been so busy frothing at the mouth—

  figuratively speaking, for the most part—that he could barely be considered a functional human being.

  Lugh and I didn’t much like the idea of leaving Raphael alone. Not because we didn’t trust him—for once—but because he’d painted such a big target on his back. To my intense surprise, Andy had volunteered to stay behind with him. I guess his hero instincts were trying to come out of hiding. Maybe my stern talking-to had more effect than I thought, though perhaps I was flattering myself to think so. But Raphael had dismissed Andy’s offer with a careless wave of his hand.

  “I’ll only be alone three hours, tops,” Raphael had said. “I’ll phone in an SOS at the slightest sign of trouble, and the restaurant’s less than four blocks from here. Besides,” he’d added with a feral grin,

  “I
’m not that easy to kill.”

  Everyone had accepted that as adequate reassurance, but Lugh and I were both still worried. I understood why Lugh was worried—Raphael was his brother, after all—but I wouldn’t have expected it from myself. I suppose my attitude toward Raphael had softened even more than I’d realized.

  Even Lugh and I had to admit, though, that the evening was a lot more pleasant without Raphael present. For one thing, Saul acted far more civilized when his father wasn’t around. For another, we didn’t have to listen to the subtle, but nasty, digs that Raphael invariably managed to interject into any conversation.

  To my surprise, the evening ended up being fun. It wasn’t that I’d expected a dinner at Dom’s restaurant to be a chore. It was just that it’s hard to relax and really enjoy anything when you’re a key player in a covert war and the fate of the human race rests on your shoulders. I was habitually on guard, and about the only time I allowed myself to let any of that guard down was in bed. Now don’t get me wrong; letting down my guard in bed was fun. It just wasn’t the same kind of fun.

  Without Raphael around to jab pins in anyone, all the members of Lugh’s council were more …

  relaxed. Even Andy seemed to shake out of his stupor for a while. He still didn’t do a lot of talking, but I didn’t get the sense he was tuning the rest of us out, either. And every once in a while, I caught him smiling at something. Like when Adam took advantage of a momentary lapse in Dominic’s attention to pinch him on the ass. Dom jumped and gave a little yelp, but the restaurant was noisy enough to cover the sound, and his family members, at least, were engrossed in their food and their conversations. Dom turned to glare at Adam, who made innocent eyes at him.

  “You promised you’d be on your best behavior,” Dominic scolded, and Adam gave him a wicked grin.

  “This is my best behavior.”

  Dominic rolled his eyes dramatically and heaved an exasperated sigh. Afterward, he was careful never to turn his back on Adam again.

  The dinner went off without a hitch. But Dom and the rest of us had underestimated his family’s …