Speak of the Devil (14 page)

Yeah, because eventually, I would die of natural causes—if I was lucky—and send Lugh back to the
Demon Realm so he could be trapped in a new host and killed. I could have done without the reminder.

“Thanks for the update,” I muttered under my breath. Adam raised his eyebrow at me, but I got the feeling he knew I wasn’t talking to him.

“It does seem to be a strange way to attack Lugh,” Adam conceded. “But I don’t think we should dismiss the possibility. I’ll check and see if Hillerman has any known ties to the Spirit Society. And don’t forget the little gift you got in the mail.”

The fact that I actually
had
forgotten all about that showed just what my life had been like lately. “You have any updates about that?” I asked, trying to act like it had been preying on my mind all morning. I doubt I fooled Adam, but he didn’t call me on it.

“Nothing that’s going to lead us to who sent it, unfortunately. The only fingerprints on the bubble wrap were yours.”

I swallowed my gorge as I remembered feeling that dead flesh against my skin. “And did you find out where the hand came from?”

He nodded. “My guess was right: it was embalmed. When we polled the local funeral parlors, one of them came up with a corpse missing a hand.”

At least no one had been killed specifically to spook me. “Do you think Barbie had anything to do with that?”

He thought about that a moment, but quickly dismissed it. “Nah. If she’d done something that dangerous, she’d have been a lot twitchier when we talked to her. Breaking and entering is one thing, but grave-robbing and then sending something like that through the U.S. mail… That’s a whole different league.”

“But Hillerman could still be behind it.”

“I don’t know. It seems too violent to fit his MO. I wouldn’t rule it out, but I’d say it’s unlikely.”

“Are we going to confront him?” I asked.

“Hillerman?”

I rolled my eyes. “No, Elvis Presley.”

Usually, my smart-ass comments seemed to piss Adam off, but this time I could have sworn he was suppressing a smile.

“We don’t have enough information to confront him yet,” he said. “The only evidence we have to tie him to any of this is Barbie, and that’s just not enough.”

I knew he was right, but that didn’t mean I had to like it. “So we just wait to see what else he’s going to do to make my life miserable and hope he screws up enough that we can prove he’s involved?”

“Basically, yes.”

I felt like punching the glove compartment, but this was a sturdy car, and with the way my life was going, I’d probably end up with a broken hand.

“Remember, Barbie’s looking into the origins of the photo, and I’m going to check for Spirit Society connections. It’s not like we’re doing nothing.”

“It’s like
I’m
doing nothing,” I countered. “I can’t do my job because of the damn suspension, and I can’t work on rebuilding my house because the insurance company’s got its thumb up its ass. I can’t look into what Hillerman has against me…” I shook my head violently. “If I have to sit around and do nothing, I’m going to go crazy.” And sink into a black pit of depression, but I didn’t feel like mentioning that.

“You can work with your attorney to try to defend yourself against the lawsuit. That ought to take plenty of time and energy.”

I turned to look out the side window. I don’t know what my face must have looked like at the reminder
that I was now beholden to Adam for my legal fees. I think the only person in the world I’d be
less
happy to take money from was Raphael. But Lugh had ordered him to do it, and he would always follow Lugh’s orders to the letter.

We didn’t say anything else for the remainder of the drive back to my apartment building. I refrained from pointing out to Adam that, although I could, indeed, spend a lot of time and energy working out my legal problems, I wasn’t scheduled to see my lawyer again until the day after tomorrow. Which meant that as soon as Adam drove away, I officially had nothing to do.

I had once again forgotten about my “bodyguard,” so when I stepped into my apartment and saw Saul sitting at my dining room table chowing down on some Chinese takeout, I nearly had heart failure. He raised his eyebrows, his only indication that he’d noticed my gasp of terror, then shoveled another bite of food into his mouth. I could have sworn I saw one of those sadistic dried red peppers they used to spice up Chinese food on his fork—you know, the kind of peppers you’re not supposed to eat if you know what’s good for you?

When I approached the table, trying to figure out how to act around my unwanted guest, I took a closer look at his plate and another sniff of the air. I decided it wasn’t Chinese food after all; it was Thai. And if there’s any culture in the world that makes hotter food than the Thais, I don’t want to know about it. But Saul was putting away those dried red peppers like they were candy.

He grinned at me through a mouthful of food. “I’d offer to share, but I think you might find this a little too spicy.”

I shook my head. “Isn’t that going to give you
an ulcer or something?” Stupid question, of course. Demons don’t get ulcers—or, at least, if they do, they can heal them so fast they don’t matter.

“There’s another carton of Thai green curry in the fridge,” he said. “I wasn’t sure whether you’d be home for lunch or not, but it’ll probably still be hot enough to eat. It’s only been in there about five minutes.”

“And is this green curry going to eat a hole through my stomach lining?”

He shook his head. “I asked for it extra mild. I didn’t know if you liked spicy food or not.”

I shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. The smell of food was making my stomach rumble, and all I’d had for breakfast was coffee. But still…

“You don’t have to feed me, you know,” I said.

Saul shrugged and put his fork down, leaning back in his chair. “I know I don’t have to. I also know you want me here even less than Adam wants me at his place, so I figured I’d make myself useful.”

I pulled out a chair and sat down at the table, not sure what to say. I’m sure my face showed my surprise at his bald statement.

Saul picked up his fork again, but he merely used it to stir the food around his plate. “It’s kind of funny, if you think about it. Adam, Dom, and me, all acting like we have no idea there’s anything wrong, when we all know perfectly well what’s going on.”

I didn’t know Saul well enough to figure out whether that sound in his voice was bitterness, or just resignation. “Are you okay?” I asked, my current heartache making me more sensitive to romantic troubles than usual.

Saul dismissed the question with a wave of his hand. “I’m fine. Nothing’s really changed since I last walked the Mortal Plain. Remember, Dom and I were
in the same body for a long time. I’ve always known that he loves Adam. And I’ve always known that if he had to choose between the two of us, he’d choose Adam.” Saul’s smile was wan. “But when Dom was my host, he didn’t have to choose.”

“You mean he didn’t have a choice.” Since Dom’s personality had been buried beneath Saul’s, he could never communicate with anyone except Saul. So if he was to have a romantic relationship, it would have to be with Saul—or with an illusion Saul created for him. I wondered if Saul had played the role of Adam in Dominic’s dreams. Then I shook my head at myself and reminded myself it was none of my business.

My bitchy comment seemed to have ended the conversation. Saul resumed picking at his food, and I decided that if I had food in my mouth, I’d be much less likely to say things I would later regret.

I dumped the curry Saul had brought me onto a plate, nuked it for thirty seconds, and brought it to the table. Thirty seconds was too long, and now I didn’t dare take a bite unless I wanted third-degree burns on my tongue. I stirred my food around the plate, sending up a cloud of fragrant steam.

“I’m sorry,” I said, still looking at my plate. “I have a tendency to blurt out whatever comes to my mind without thinking about it. I’ve been getting better about it lately, but I feel so shitty right now I guess I’m backsliding.”

A brief nod was the only indication he gave that he heard my apology. I’m not sure if that meant he accepted it or not, but since we’d already determined I had a tendency to stick my foot in my mouth, I decided to keep my mouth closed.

The curry was finally cool enough to eat, as long as I blew on it first, so I took a tentative taste. Despite Saul’s assurance, I was afraid it would be Thai-spicy,
but it turned out to be just perfect. A bit of a kick, but not so much it was painful to eat.

There was a long silence as I ate, and Saul stirred the remains of his food around his plate, taking an occasional nibble as if he weren’t sure if he was done or not.

“My host isn’t mentally challenged, you know,” Saul said out of nowhere.

It wasn’t a topic I felt like discussing at the moment, but I didn’t have it in me not to argue. “I met him before you took him. I know mentally challenged when I see it, and Dick fit the description.”

“He isn’t brilliant, but his intelligence is normal. It’s the way he was raised that made him seem challenged. Amazing what a total lack of socialization and stimulation of the mind will do to a child.”

I flinched. “Now you sound like your father, objectifying Dick like he’s some kind of lab rat.”

He leveled me with an unnerving, level gaze.
“Never
compare me to Raphael. In any way. Understand?”

“Don’t sound like him, and I won’t compare you.”

His fists clenched on the table. “I was commenting on what was done to my host to make him seem mentally challenged when in fact his intelligence is perfectly normal. I’m not the one who did it to him, and I’d never condone doing that to anyone!”

I backed off. “Fine. I’m touchy about the subject is all. If you’d heard some of the cavalier things Raphael has said about the ‘test subjects’…” I let my voice trail off. Raphael was on Lugh’s side in the demon war, and he was our ally whether I wanted him to be or not. But it seemed obvious he’d never accepted the idea that there was anything wrong in Dougal’s damn breeding program.

“He’s getting better,” Saul said.

My mouth dropped open.

“Dick, not Raphael,” Saul amended quickly. “I’m not sure how much of the damage I can repair. A child’s brain is much more malleable than an adult’s. But the point is, I can make him more functional over time.”

“And what good does that do him, when he doesn’t get to function anyway?”

He gave me an annoyed look. “Do you cease to exist when Lugh takes control?”

“No, but—”

“Dick is still alive and well within me. And whether he can personally interact with the outside world or not, he’s still a person with a life. A life that will be fuller and richer if I can undo some of the damage he’s taken from lifelong abuse and neglect.”

I forced myself to take a moment to think before I blurted out something else aggressive and potentially offensive. Saul had been right in his accusation this morning—I didn’t like him. But it made no sense, even to me. He’d done absolutely nothing to justify my opinion of him.

“So you really care that much about Dick’s well-being?” I asked, trying not to sound skeptical. “Lugh said you’d had trouble getting along with hosts in the past and that your hosts had suffered. Why is Dick so different?”

He frowned. “It was just one host, and the problem was that he was a sanctimonious son of a bitch. He had no trouble inviting a demon into his body, but he thought once he invited me in, he would convert me to his way of thinking. Which was that sex should only occur between a man and a woman, that it was an abomination for the woman to enjoy it, and that anything but straight missionary position was a sin.
And that foreplay was unnecessary.” He gave a little snort. “You can imagine what he thought of SM practices. Any time I wanted to partake of any ‘pleasures of the flesh,’ he let his objections be known. So no, we did not get along. And since I was in the dominant position, I did what I wanted. If he was offended, I shut him out.”

I bit my tongue to keep a retort from flying out of my mouth. I knew what it was like when a demon shut a host off from his own body. In my opinion, it was a fate worse than death.

“I’m not proud of what I did,” Saul said, “but possession is a risk, both for the demon and the host. We have no way of knowing how compatible we will be with our hosts. We are more adaptable than humans, so we’re able to bridge some pretty big gaps. But that one was way too big and the relationship was doomed from the beginning.”

“So Lugh was just being paranoid when he said a host other than Dominic would suffer with you?”

I never said that
, Lugh protested.

Damn. My mental barriers were still weak enough that he could speak to me. It made me feel like a crazy person when I heard voices in my head.

“If I understand correctly,” Saul said, “Lugh wanted to summon me into Dominic because, at the time, there was no other host available. I’m not surprised he would bring up such a possibility if he was trying to get his way. And it’s true that I’ve never had another host I was as compatible with as I was with Dominic. But whether you believe me or not, Dick and I are doing just fine together.”

I was working on a diplomatic but noncommittal reply but was interrupted by the phone ringing. I hoped I didn’t look like I was running for my life when I dashed to get it.

It was the front desk calling to tell me I had a visitor—Dominic, of all people. I told the clerk to send him up, then chewed my fingernails as I waited for him to arrive. A little evil voice in my brain said that Dominic wouldn’t have shown up on my doorstep with good news. And from the look on Saul’s face when I told him who was coming, it seemed he had the same suspicion.

My assumption
that Dominic wasn’t coming with good news was confirmed the moment I opened the door and got a look at him. I was getting pretty good at reading him—unlike Adam, Dom actually has an expressive face. My first impression was that he was uncomfortable and perhaps a bit embarrassed. Nothing good, but at least it wasn’t a “somebody died” face. With my life, that could be considered a positive.