The Devil Inside mk-1 Read online

  Of course, with my keys lost, I had to find a custodian to open my office for me. The delay made me twitchy, but eventually I tracked someone down to let me in.

  I made a beeline for my pencil drawer. I’d yanked it open and grabbed my spare set of keys before I noticed the padded manila envelope that sat on my chair.

  It shouldn’t have been there. When I’m not in the office, my deliveries go to the mailroom downstairs. And no one but the custodial staff had keys to my office.

  Nervously, I upended the envelope onto my desk. A videocassette and a sheet of paper fell out.

  The note was short and to the point: Morgan. When you’ve watched this tape, call me on my cell phone. Andrew.

  Words can’t describe how much I didn’t want to see whatever was on this tape. Unfortunately, not watching wasn’t an option.

  I didn’t have a VCR in my office, and of course I didn’t have a home to go to. But Brian’s place was only a couple of blocks away. I hoped I’d let myself in and find out he was home sick and just hadn’t bothered to call his office to let them know.

  I wasn’t holding my breath.

  By the time I let myself into Brian’s condo, my knees were literally knocking, and my stomach was in turmoil. I wondered if I was on the way to a nervous breakdown, then sternly told myself I couldn’t afford a nervous breakdown.

  Brian wasn’t home, and there were a gazillion messages on his answering machine. Looked like he hadn’t been home in a while. I looked at the tape in my hand and prayed it wasn’t what I thought it was.

  My hands shook when I stuffed it into Brian’s VCR and hit play.

  Static for a moment. Then the picture I’d been dreading.

  He was chained to a wall, hands above his head, a ball gag stuffed into his mouth. They’d stripped him down to his tightie-whities and shackled his ankles together.

  The wall he was chained to was of old-looking, rough stone blocks, no doubt to give the room its dungeon—cum—torture chamber atmosphere. There were plenty of other sets of chains hanging from those walls. The camera panned to show a collection of whips that would put Adam’s to shame, then a brazier holding a set of glowing irons, then something that looked like it might actually be a genuine rack.

  When the camera panned back to Brian, he wasn’t alone anymore. A cloaked and hooded figure stood in front of him, weaving a scalpel dextrously through his fingers. Brian watched the show with wide, scared eyes.

  I was shaking my head, hand clamped over my mouth to contain my scream of pain and outrage.

  The hooded figure smiled into the camera and stopped playing with the scalpel. He stepped toward Brian. I tried to brace myself, knowing what I was about to see, knowing I should just stop the tape now, knowing I couldn’t.

  He removed the gag, letting Brian suck in a few frantic gasps of air. But he hadn’t removed it for any humanitarian purpose. He’d removed it so I could hear the man I loved scream when that scalpel sliced through his pectoral muscle.

  I screamed, too, hoping my hand over my mouth was deadening the sound so the neighbors wouldn’t call the cops. Blood dripped down Brian’s chest and belly, hitting the waistband of his briefs, then soaking in. His eyes were squeezed shut, his teeth clenched, trying not to make any more noise. But he screamed anyway when the torturer sliced again.

  I wanted to hurl myself into the TV, magically transport myself across time and space to save Brian. The feeling of helplessness was a crushing weight on my chest and shoulders.

  The torturer faced the camera again. All I could see of his face behind the hood were a pair of blue eyes with darkened pupils and his thin lips, raised in a smile. He was enjoying himself. My gorge rose, but I forced it back down. I’d go puke my guts out in a minute. First, I had to see this through to the end.

  “This was just a small taste,” the hooded man said, his voice digitally altered. Another hooded man came into view in the background to shove the gag back into Brian’s mouth.

  “Cooperate, and that will be his last. As you can see, we are wearing hoods so he can’t see our faces. We have no reason not to release him when you follow our instructions.”

  The picture fuzzed to static. It was over.

  I sprinted to the bathroom, barely making it in time.

  Puking two days in a row when I wasn’t sick was a new experience for me. Can’t say as I was overly fond of it.

  My mind kept trying to rebel, trying to say “No More! Enough! Just STOP it!” For a minute there, I seriously doubted my sanity. Anger made a feeble attempt to come to my rescue, but I was just too fucking terrified to go with it.

  They had Brian. They’d hurt Brian! I’d desperately tried to protect him, and this is what happened. I wanted to scream, break things, curl up in a little ball and die.

  But none of that would help Brian. I had to get him back. It was too late to keep him safe, but I was going to save him. Or die trying.

  I had a sneaking suspicion the latter was more likely.

  When I was stable enough to manage it, I grabbed the nearest phone and sat down. I wasn’t sure my legs would hold me if I tried standing up for this call.

  I dialed Andrew’s cell phone number, hating him more than I’d ever hated anyone in my life. More than I’d imagined it was possible to hate someone.

  He answered on the second ring.

  “If I ever get my hands on you,” I said in response to his cheerful greeting, “I’m going to castrate you with a butter knife.”

  “That would be a neat trick if you could manage it. I don’t think Andrew would enjoy it very much, though.”

  I stifled a sob. “Andrew invited you into this world, you son of a bitch, so he can go straight to hell right with you. Where’s Brian?”

  Raphael laughed. “What, you think it’s going to be that easy?”

  “Don’t fuck with me, Raphael. I don’t care if I have to come back from the dead to do it, but I’m going to make you pay.”

  “Would you like to discuss the terms for Brian’s release, or would you prefer to continue hurling invective? I have plenty of time, so by all means hurl away. You’re quite entertaining.”

  Pain stabbed through my head, making me gasp. It went away almost immediately. I had a feeling it had been unintentional, that Raphael was getting Lugh’s goat almost as much as he was getting mine. I didn’t want either one of us to give him that much satisfaction.

  “Everything all right over there?” Raphael asked with a good imitation of polite concern.

  I wished I had a zippy, smart-ass comment, something to prove that I wasn’t scared of him. Maybe if I wasn’t so scared of him, I could have thought of one.

  “Just tell me what I have to do to get you to let him go.”

  “It’s very simple, Morgan. A trade. You for him.”

  Nothing but what I’d expected. Still my stomach clenched with dread. “You want me to turn myself in so you can burn me to death.”

  His voice when he answered was almost gentle. “Not very appealing, I know. But your other choice is to leave him to our mercies. We’ll send you a new video every day. I’ll oversee it myself, make sure he isn’t hurt enough to kill him. If his pain doesn’t move you after a week or two, we can add some sexual molestation to the mix, see if that motivates you to change your mind.”

  “You motherfucking son of a-”

  The phone clicked off. Hands shaking with fear and rage, I hit redial. He answered on the first ring this time.

  “From now on, you’ll speak to me with respect. That outburst will cost Brian another day of fun and games in our dungeon.”

  “Raphael-”

  “You’ll receive another video tomorrow. I’m sure you’ll find it most entertaining.”

  “Please-”

  “When twenty-four hours have passed, you may call me again and we will have a civilized discussion of your terms of surrender.”

  He hung up again. This time when I hit redial, my call went straight to voice mail.

  CHA
PTER 19

  I don’t know how long I sat there hyperventilating, trying not to think about what might be happening to Brian. It was probably a long time. Lugh snapped me out of it with another icepick — through-the-eye.

  “Okay, okay,” I said, “I’m going back to Adam’s. Knock it off.”

  A comforting numbness stole over me, making everything seem temporarily unreal. I thanked God for small blessings, even though I knew I’d pay for it later when it all came crashing down on me again.

  It was late in the afternoon, so I gambled Adam would be home from work by now, assuming the murder charge didn’t interfere with his work schedule.

  Dominic answered the phone. He wasn’t happy to hear from me. “You’ve got a hell of a nerve calling here!” he snapped.

  I sympathized with his feelings, but I was far too distraught to muster a good apology, and a half-assed one just wouldn’t do.

  “Is Adam there?”

  “No. And don’t call here again.”

  He hung up on me. I considered calling back, but decided against it. Odds were he wouldn’t answer. Adam might still help me for Lugh’s sake. Dominic wouldn’t.

  Hoping Adam would be there by the time I arrived, I left Brian’s condo and took a cab across town. When the cabbie dropped me off, I glanced at the parking lot across the street and was relieved to see Adam’s car there.

  That relief faded quickly when I imagined facing him after what I’d done yesterday. Had it been only yesterday? So much bad shit had happened in my life in such a short time it felt like several years had to have passed.

  I dragged my feet as I climbed the three steps of his stoop, butterflies flapping wildly in my empty stomach. Then I remembered what Brian was going through, remembered the fear in his kind eyes, remembered the horrifying sound of his scream. I had to do this.

  I rang the bell and held my breath. The seconds ticked by like slow torture. Then Adam opened the door.

  He looked at me like you’d look at a dog turd you’d stepped on in your brand-new Manolos, but he didn’t slam the door in my face. He stepped back, giving me room to come in without brushing by him.

  I stepped inside and tried to remember how to breathe.

  Dominic stood in the entryway. If looks could kill, I’d have been dead before I took a step.

  “How dare you!” he spat.

  “Dom,” Adam interrupted. “This is between Morgan and me. Go home. I’ll call you in a little while.”

  The dismissal seemed to hurt, though Dominic tried to cover up the expression immediately. He strode toward the door, shoving me out of the way with his shoulder.

  Adam caught him by the arm as he reached for the door. They didn’t say anything, but something passed between them, some communication that relieved the tension in Dominic’s shoulders.

  Then Dominic was gone, and I was left alone with a dangerous demon who had every reason in the world to hate my guts.

  “They have Brian,” I said, reaching into my bag and pulling out the hateful videotape.

  Adam raised his eyebrows, a look of mild curiosity on his face.

  “My boyfriend,” I clarified, and my throat tightened up. “They’re torturing him.” My voice wobbled, but I wasn’t about to let myself cry, not now. If I let go of the tight reins on my emotions, I wasn’t sure my sanity would survive.

  Adam didn’t look particularly moved by my plight. Not that I expected him to be. I forced myself to meet his eyes.

  “I’d say I’m sorry, but that’s so inadequate…”

  “Quite,” he agreed. His was a cold, marrow-chilling anger, not like Lugh’s hot rage of last night.

  “But you’re all right?” I asked. “They didn’t…find anything?”

  “No.”

  Okay, we were into monosyllabic answers today. I forced myself to soldier on. “They’re going to keep torturing him, send me a new tape every day until I turn myself in.”

  “Which, of course, you’re not stupid enough to do, though you’re pretty monumentally stupid.”

  I couldn’t help wincing, thinking I liked the mono-syllables better. I shook my head. “I don’t know what to do. I can’t let them keep hurting him. I just can’t.”

  “If the alternative is giving yourself up, then yes you can. If Lugh dies-if Dougal takes the throne-your people are doomed. Not immediately, because Lugh still has supporters who will fight for you when he’s gone. But one day, Dougal will turn you all into empty vessels, with no purpose in life but to host whatever demon wants you.

  “I’m a demon-hunter because I’m one of Lugh’s lieutenants. I’m here to help send as many of Dougal’s people back to the Demon Realm as possible. I’m genuinely sorry that an innocent civilian has to suffer for the cause, but the cause is more important than any one person.”

  Nothing there I could argue with, though I was tempted. However, I wasn’t about to give up on Brian.

  “Then I’m just going to have to find a third choice, aren’t I?”

  He just looked at me, a dead, ugly stare that told me he’d definitely made the transition from disliking me to full-out hating me. I deserved it, but that didn’t make it easy to swallow.

  “I have to find him,” I said. “I have to find where they’re keeping him and get him out of there.”

  “And just how do you plan to do that?”

  “With your help.”

  He laughed, but it was a bitter, brittle laugh. “You think I’m going to help you after what you did? Woman, you’ve gone mad! I’ll shelter Lugh and do whatever it takes to help him. You, on the other hand, can go to Hell.”

  He grabbed my arm and started dragging me toward the stairway.

  “I promise I’ll stop by every couple of days to feed you,” he said as I stumbled along behind him. “ Lugh won’t let you starve to death, but I doubt he’ll be able to do much about your discomfort. Such a shame.”

  “Adam, please-”

  “Shut the fuck up, Morgan.” We’d reached the stairs. He took them two at a time. I was practically airborne in my attempt to keep up.

  “Brian doesn’t deserve to suffer for my sins!” I cried.

  Adam didn’t answer me-why should he care what happened to a complete stranger when his king’s life was at stake? Certainly he didn’t care about the pain Brian’s capture was causing me. We’d reached the top of the stairs. The door to the black room stood gaping open like the mouth of Hell. My stomach did a back-flip. Adam wouldn’t help me out of the goodness of his heart, but I knew with a sickening certainty what might tempt him to change his mind.

  “What if I gave you my consent?” I choked out as he dragged me past the black room.

  He came to an abrupt stop, turning to face me. “What?”

  “You said once you wanted to hurt me, and you said you needed consent.” My voice shook, and I doubted there was a drop of blood left in my face. I had to focus on saving Brian. I couldn’t let myself think about what I was offering. “So what if I consent? Will you help me find Brian?”

  Adam’s gaze filled with speculation, even as he played hard to get. “You think your noble sacrifice will move me? If I felt so inclined, I could play with you to my heart’s content and there wouldn’t be anything you could do to stop me.”

  Despite the dread that suffused me, I forced myself to meet his eyes. “But that wouldn’t be the same, would it?”

  His eyes darkened noticeably, and my instincts insisted I should run for my life. Maybe I would have if he hadn’t still been holding my arm. A fine sheen of sweat glowed on his upper lip, and I knew I had him. He wanted what I was offering. And I think he would have wanted it even if he didn’t have so much anger to work off. How often had he and Dominic indulged in their sick “games” when Dominic’s demon could heal him? And how badly did Adam miss what they used to have? I was betting it was pretty damn bad, judging by the expression on his face.

  “You’re right,” he finally said. “It wouldn’t be the same.”

  His gaze shi
fted to the black room, then back to me. He smiled, but it was a predatory expression. “Lady, you’ve got yourself a deal.”

  Oh dear God, help me! I prayed as, heart thundering, breath coming in gasps, I let him lead me into his chamber of horrors.

  CHAPTER 20

  Adam pulled me into the black room, then left me there with a terse “wait here.”

  He closed the door behind him, leaving me surrounded by the blackness. I shivered and crossed my arms over my chest, wondering how on earth I’d come to this. My mouth was parchment-dry, my heart thundered in my ears. I felt small, and weak, and terribly, terribly alone.

  I’d never been so afraid in all my life.

  After what felt like an eternity, Adam returned, carrying a large box. I didn’t want to know what was inside. There was a flush to his cheeks. Anticipation radiated from him. I wracked my brain for any other way I could gain his cooperation. None leapt to mind.

  Adam set the box, unopened, on the floor, then turned to me. I must have looked really pathetic. He blinked a couple of times, visibly trying to control his excitement.

  “You’re not in danger here, Morgan,” he reminded me. “This is going to suck, but there’s nothing I can do that Lugh can’t heal.”

  I guess he meant that to be reassuring, but I don’t think anything short of an unequivocal reprieve would have reassured me at that moment.

  “You’ll need to take off your shirt and bra,” he continued as he approached me.

  I crossed my arms over my chest and swallowed hard, stepping back from him.

  He stopped and raised his eyebrows. “Come now, love. You know I need bare skin for this.”

  But I just hugged myself more tightly, unable to bear the idea of being even partially nude in front of him. He cocked his head and regarded me curiously.

  “I told you before I’m not into rape,” he said. “If that’s what you’re worrying about. I’m sure your breasts are stunning, but I assure you I can resist the temptation.”

  Honestly, I didn’t think my virtue was in danger. It was certainly possible that Adam liked women as much as men, but I strongly suspected he was faithful to Dominic. Don’t ask me why I was so sure, but I was.