by Jenna Black
Raphael spared me a mocking look. “You know me. I don’t have the patience for slow, tactful interrogations.” Then he turned back to Shae, who was making a visible effort not to look as interested and eager as she obviously was. For a woman in the information business, this bombshell had to be insanely valuable.
“We’re here looking for information about a demon who seems to hold a monumental grudge against Morgan.”
I groaned and covered my eyes. This was the problem with carrying out any plan involving Raphael— he had a tendency to ignore the script altogether and do things his way. I tried to comfort myself with the knowledge that, as distasteful as his way often turned out to be, it usually worked.
Shae cocked her head, smiling politely. “And why would I be willing to share this information with you? If I have it.”
“Because despite how much you enjoy watching the goings-on in Hell, you yourself are not overly fond of pain.”
The smile vanished, and she sat forward, menace flashing in her eyes. “You dare to come to my club and threaten me?” I got the feeling this was an experience she most definitely was not used to.
Raphael laughed. “Indeed.”
“Get out!” she ordered, jumping to her feet and pointing imperiously at the door.
“Oh, sit down,” Raphael said with a wave of impatience. “You don’t think I’d come in here with threats and not be prepared to back them up, do you?”
Her lips pulled away from her teeth in a snarl. “I don’t know who you are, but—”
“Well, let me clear that up for you right now. My name is Raphael. Do you begin to understand?”
“What the hell?” I asked, once again looking at Raphael like he was crazy. His identity was supposed to be a state secret.
Shae’s indignation had disappeared abruptly, replaced by wariness. “There are many demons named Raphael,” she said cautiously.
This time it was Raphael’s smile that was sharklike. “I’ll give you three guesses just which Raphael I might be. The first two don’t count.”
The starch went out of Shae’s spine, and she sagged back down to her chair. The whites of her eyes were startlingly bright in the dark of her face, and before she hid her hands under the desk, I could see that they were shaking.
Raphael turned to me, still smiling. “As you may know, I’ve established a certain … reputation for myself among my people.”
Yeah, I’d noticed that. But I wasn’t about to acknowledge that his reputation as a ruthless bastard might come in handy.
He turned his attention back to Shae, and she cringed. “Let me list all the ways you can earn yourself some quality time alone with me,” he said. “You could mention my true identity to anyone, human or demon. I could find anyone, human or demon, tailing me or otherwise paying too much attention to me. Regardless of whether it was you who set them on me or not. My host could die—again, regardless of your responsibility in that death.” He leaned forward in his chair, his eyes glinting. “Or you could fail to answer our questions with complete and total honesty.”
Shae swallowed hard, and there was a sheen of sweat on her face. I had never imagined I’d see the day when Shae was actually scared of someone.
“Do you need me to describe what I would do to you before I burned you to death, and how long it would take for me to do it all?” Raphael asked in a pleasant voice as he relaxed back into his chair. “Or are you content to let your imagination fill in the details?”
“What do you want to know?” she asked. Her voice was breathy and shaken, and I almost felt sorry for her.
“You’ve forgotten my question already?” he mocked with a cluck of his tongue.
She raised her chin. I think she was trying to look defiant, but it wasn’t working. “I don’t know of anyone in particular who bears that kind of a grudge against Morgan.”
“That isn’t the answer I was hoping for.” Raphael’s voice was a menacing purr that made the back of my neck prickle.
Shae swallowed hard. “I’m telling the truth,” she said, and I, for one, believed her.
Raphael sighed in mock regret. “I’m disappointed in you, Shae. I was under the impression that you were at least moderately intelligent.”
Scared as she obviously was, there was still a glint of anger in Shae’s eyes. “I can’t give you information that doesn’t exist, and I’m not stupid enough to make up a bullshit answer. I know of no demon who has shown any particular interest in harming Morgan. That doesn’t mean one doesn’t exist, or even that one doesn’t spend time in my club, just that whoever it is hasn’t spoken about it.”
I didn’t think Raphael was going to accept Shae’s word, and I wondered what I would do if he tried to follow through on his threat. I couldn’t just stand aside and watch him torture her—I had no desire to see for myself why he had such a fearsome reputation—but I didn’t see how I could stop him. I didn’t even have my Taser with me, since we’d known I’d have to check it at the door if I brought it.
“I’m still not pleased with your answer,” Raphael said warningly, “but I’ll move on to the next question. Has anyone asked you to recommend someone who could falsify photographs convincingly—and discreetly?”
Shae looked almost relieved by the question. “Yeah. But this, uh, client never said anything about being after Morgan. He paid well, so I didn’t ask any questions. Besides, it didn’t seem like that big a deal.”
Raphael snorted. “You know as well as I that if it weren’t a big deal, he wouldn’t have needed your help. Now tell me everything you know about this demon.”
“Sure. He goes by the name Tim Simms, but that’s his host’s name. The demon’s name is Abraham.”
“What is it with you demons and the Biblical names?” I muttered under my breath.
Raphael looked at me and raised one eyebrow. “It’s not that they’re Biblical names, it’s that they’re old names. Most of us are far too old to have names like Tyler or Austin.” He turned his attention back to Shae. “Go on. I’m fascinated.”
“He hasn’t been in for at least a month, but he used to be a regular. He was legal, and his host was tall, blond, and bland.”
“While this information is interesting, it’s not helpful.”
Shae shrugged. “How can I know what’s helpful? You haven’t told me what you want, other than that you’re looking for someone who has a grudge against Morgan. As far as I know, this guy didn’t even know who Morgan was, much less have a grudge …” Her voice trailed off, and her eyebrows drew together in puzzlement.
“You’ve remembered something important?” Raphael nudged when she didn’t say anything.
She looked doubtful. “I don’t know if it has any bearing on what you want.”
“Let me be the judge of that.”
“Okay. Abraham did have one hell of a grudge, but it wasn’t against Morgan. The reason he wanted a reference for someone who could doctor the photo was that he planned to use it to get some demon friend of his declared rogue. I don’t know how it was supposed to do that, and like I said, I didn’t ask too many questions. He did seem really excited by whatever his plan was. I got the impression he’d been building up to this revenge for a long time. And I mean a long time for a demon, which is a lot longer than a long time for a human, if you know what I mean.”
Raphael looked grim. “I do, indeed.”
The look on his face told me he’d made something more out of this information than I had. How did Abraham’s grudge against Maguire’s demon translate into a beef with me?
“You’ve been very helpful,” Raphael said with a cruel twist of his lips that might have been a smile. “If you should see Abraham again, or if you should hear anything about where he might be—or who his current host might be, since I suspect he’s changed—you will let me know.”
“Of course.”
“And you’ll remember all the things that could happen to earn you a date with me.”
Shae actually shuddered, and sh
e looked at her desktop instead of at Raphael. “I’ll remember. You’ll have no trouble from me.”
“No, I didn’t think so,” he murmured, then gestured for me to stand. “We’ll see ourselves out.”
Shae, still fascinated by her desk, merely nodded.
Chapter 24
I let out a massive breath of relief when the door to The Seven Deadlies closed behind us. I really hated that place, and if there was any justice in life, I’d never have to set foot in it again. Of course, I hadn’t seen a whole lot of evidence that justice abounded in the world. Call me cynical.
We drove back to Raphael’s place in silence. If I were anywhere near my normal self, I’d have been pestering Raphael for theories the moment we got into the car. As it was, I just waited patiently for him to get around to explaining what was on his mind. If I pestered it out of him now, we’d have to repeat it all for Saul anyway.
I’m sure Raphael noticed my abstraction, but he didn’t bug me about it, which was a nice change from hanging out with Adam or Brian. Not that I’d be hanging around with Brian anymore. I swear my heart stopped beating for a moment at that thought.
The tableau that greeted us when we entered Raphael’s house was … unexpected. From the tension in Raphael’s body, I knew he was concerned that somehow Barbie would have managed to betray us even with Saul to keep watch on her. He didn’t relax one iota when he saw Saul and Barbie cozied up on the couch together.
They were sitting close enough to give a sense of intimacy, and each had a glass with some kind of amber-colored alcoholic beverage on the rocks. Barbie’s body was angled toward Saul, and her smile was practically coquettish. Saul, on the other hand, wore the smile of a big bad wolf. A hungry big bad wolf.
They moved apart a little as Raphael and I joined them in the living room. Barbie stared down into her glass, a smile still playing around the corners of her mouth. Saul crossed his legs and—very subtle—rested his hand with the drink in it over his thighs. He and Raphael shared a hostile glare.
“I think it’s time for you to leave now, Ms. Paget,” Raphael said, his eyes still locked with Saul’s.
Barbie’s eyes widened, and she looked back and forth between Raphael and Saul. Once again, they were piquing her curiosity, which didn’t seem like a good idea to me. However, short of duct-taping both their mouths shut, I wasn’t sure what I could do about it.
“I’ll walk you to the door,” I said, giving Barbie a rueful smile. “I wouldn’t want you to perish of testosterone poisoning.”
Laughing, she put down her drink and touched her hand lightly to Saul’s shoulder. I was impressed to see that that touch was enough to distract Saul from his staring contest.
“It was great to meet you, Saul,” she said, a twinkle in her eye.
“The pleasure was all mine,” he answered, then took her hand and raised it to his lips like some old-fashioned courtier.
They were both laying it on so thick I wanted to gag. However, it might make life a lot easier for Dominic and Adam if Saul’s attentions were fixed elsewhere, so I had no objection to their flirtation.
“Don’t kill each other while my back is turned,” I muttered to the guys as I fulfilled my promise and walked Barbie to the door.
“You sure you don’t want me to stay where you and your friends could keep an eye on me?” she asked with a grin.
“Nice try,” I said, rolling my eyes.
“So you’re going to send me home without telling me how things went at The Seven Deadlies?”
“Looks like it,” I agreed. I was already putting way more trust in her than was strictly wise, but I was hardly going to tell her all about my demon troubles.
We’d reached the front door, and I politely held it open for her. Of course, I wasn’t lucky enough to have her slip out quietly without any parting words. She stopped in the doorway and looked up at me. The smile was gone, as was the sparkle in her eyes.
“Is he an illegal?” she asked quietly. There was no sense of menace or malice in her question, just honest curiosity.
My heart tried to jump up into my throat, though I attempted to make my face look confused. “Huh?”
Her lips twitched. I guess I hadn’t hid my shock all that well. “It doesn’t matter to me one way or the other,” she said. “Even if I were in the position to go blabbing to the police about it, I wouldn’t.” Her face softened. “Whoever he is, whatever he’s doing here, he’s a really nice guy.”
Oh, brother. “Nice” was not a word I could imagine associating with any of the demons I knew.
I didn’t know what to say to her. I wanted to ask how she’d known that Saul was a demon—we certainly hadn’t introduced him as such, and I doubted he’d told her. But I was sure she’d make more out of anything I said than I’d want her to. So I ignored the whole topic.
“Thanks for all your help tonight,” I said instead.
“Anytime. And you have my number in case you change your mind about the ice cream binge. I’m pretty sure that convenience store is open 24/7.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” To my surprise, a lump formed in my throat. The image of pigging out on ice cream while pouring out my heartache with an understanding girlfriend was more attractive than I’d ever have imagined. I closed the door and returned to the living room before I said anything stupid.
Raphael and Saul were still glaring at each other, and I would have thought they’d sat there immobile and quiet as statues while I was gone, except that the heightened color in their cheeks suggested an escalation of hostilities. Once again, I had the temptation to bang their bricklike heads together.
“Knock it off, you two,” I said.
Raphael was the first to break off the stare, sitting back in his chair and looking over his shoulder at me. “I was merely suggesting that you and Saul relocate to a more secure position, now that Barbie knows where you’re hiding.”
“And I was saying that just because he’s a traitorous, backstabbing liar doesn’t mean everyone is,” Saul retorted. “And her name is Barbara.”
Irritated as I was with the two of them, I had to swallow a laugh. So much for Saul’s undying love for Dominic! It seemed Barbie had wrapped him around her finger in the span of only a couple of hours. Color me impressed.
“Saul and I are staying here,” I declared, hoping that would end the argument. “If Barbie is going to screw us, it probably doesn’t matter where we are.” And personally, I thought the only person she was interested in screwing was Saul. “Now,” I continued without giving Raphael a chance to protest further, “let’s talk about next steps.”
I briefed Saul on what Raphael and I had learned when we talked to Shae, then turned to Raphael.
“I got the feeling you made more out of the information we learned than I did. Care to share your theory?”
I think he still really wanted to convince me and Saul that Barbie was going to stab us in the back, but he’s not an idiot. He had to see that there was no way in hell we were budging. His lips pressed together in a tight line momentarily; then he gave up the fight.
“Let’s see if you come to the same conclusion I have when I put all the related facts together in the right order. The story begins when Tim Simms goes to Shae and asks her to recommend someone who can discreetly falsify photographs that make it look like Jordan Maguire is cheating on Jessica. Shae helps him out, he gets the photos, he shows them to Jessica. He then whips Jessica into such a frenzy that in a jealous rage she helps him frame Jordan for hitting her.
“The state of Pennsylvania, with its ever-so-compassionate zero-tolerance policy, orders Jordan’s exorcism. Morgan steps up to the plate and performs the exorcism, successfully sending Jordan’s demon back to the Demon Realm.
“Then suddenly, she starts getting death threats, is sued for negligence, gets a gruesome package in the mail, and finally is framed for murder.”
“You’re forgetting the little part about Maguire dying,” I said dryly.
“N
o, I’m not. I said I’d put all the relevant facts in order.”
Naturally, I bristled. “I think the death of a human being is quite relevant!”
“In an abstract sense, yes, but not necessarily to this case.”
“What the hell are you—” My voice choked off as suddenly the facts, as Raphael had recited them, kicked into place. Could it be that we’d had the motive all wrong from the very beginning? “Abraham isn’t after me because Jordan Maguire died,” I said, probably sounding as stunned as I felt. “He’s after me because Jordan Maguire’s demon didn’t die.”
Raphael nodded. “We all know you’re an extraordinarily powerful exorcist, no doubt because of your unique genetic background.” He hurried on before I could make an issue of his part in my “unique genetic background.” “You can exorcize demons that ordinary exorcists couldn’t handle.” Here, he gestured at Saul. “So what if Maguire’s demon wasn’t just some garden-variety demon? What if he was one of the elite and powerful? The elite are less likely to walk the Mortal Plain than those of lower rank, but it does happen.
“Murder is virtually impossible in the Demon Realm unless there’s a huge power imbalance. That’s why Dougal had to get Lugh on the Mortal Plain to try to kill him.”
Saul laughed bitterly. “You found an effective way to murder my mother.”
Raphael didn’t rise to the bait. “Delilah didn’t have to keep pouring energy into you, so technically it wasn’t murder. Besides, I don’t think Dougal was going to convince Lugh to have his love child.”
“You dare to make jokes about it?” Saul cried, and the glow was in his eyes once more. If this was the best he could do at controlling his temper, it was a wonder he hadn’t killed someone and gotten himself exorcized within the first week he’d set foot on the Mortal Plain.
“Saul!” I snapped, knowing I had to seize control of this situation. “Raphael’s an asshole, and we all know it. Just accept that reality and deal with it already!”
For a moment, Saul turned that glowing, furious gaze my way. I felt a strange stirring sensation in my brain, which I sensed was Lugh getting ready to take control if necessary.