by Jenna Black
I’d have fallen down if he weren’t holding me up by one arm. I didn’t quite black out, but the room spun dizzily around me, and nausea roiled in my gut. I saw his fist coming at me again, but there was no escaping it. It occurred to me that it sure would be nice if I could voluntarily let Lugh surface just about now.
The second punch never connected, and through my blurry vision, I saw Raphael standing with bowed head, his fist clenched as his ribs heaved. I sure had a way of bringing out the worst in people.
He was still holding me up by my arm, though the floor was looking mighty inviting. I was pretty sure he hadn’t broken my jaw, but the nausea and blurry vision suggested I had a concussion. Still, enraged as he might have been, he’d pulled that punch, or I’d have been dead.
We stood like that for what felt like forever, my head throbbing in time to the beat of my heart as Raphael gathered the shreds of his temper together. By the time he managed that, I’d recovered enough that my legs could hold me, though I had a severe case of double vision.
Raphael’s voice when he spoke was soft and contrite. “It would hurt less in the long run if I went ahead and knocked you out so Lugh can fix you.”
The side effects of the concussion couldn’t stop the bark of laughter that escaped me. “Thanks for the kind offer,” I lisped, and realized for the first time that I’d bitten the side of my cheek and my mouth was full of blood. I spat the blood on Raphael’s carpet, but my vision was too blurry to make out the expression on his face to see how much that pissed him off. “I think I’ll pass.”
“Can you get home all right?” he asked. I wondered if he thought I’d missed the fact that, contrite though he might sound, he hadn’t bothered to apologize. “You can lie down on my couch if you want. I’ll go into another room and stay there until you’re well enough to leave.”
The idea of lying down held a great deal of appeal. But then, so did the idea of getting the hell out of there. I chose the latter.
“It’s been a pleasure,” I said as I made my way carefully to the door. Raphael didn’t answer, and that was just as well.
CHAPTER 7
I managed to get home without passing out on the sidewalk, but it was a close call. No doubt about it, I had a concussion. The doorman asked if I was all right as he opened the door for me. I lied and said yes.
The elevator ride almost made me toss my cookies, but I made it into my apartment and onto my bed without embarrassing myself. The bed felt like a combination bucking bronco and tilt-a-whirl, but I closed my eyes anyway and tried to let myself relax down into sleep. Eventually, it worked.
I half-expected Lugh to patch me up without bothering to talk to me. After all, I was pissed off at him for whatever he might have said to Brian, and he had a history of avoiding me when I was pissed at him. He’s nothing if not smart. This time, however, avoidance wasn’t his strategy.
When I opened my eyes, I found myself in a room I’d never seen before—a long, cavernous hall, its ceiling supported by massive stone pillars, its windows and doorways topped with Gothic arches. At the head of the room sat a dais, and on that dais loomed what could only be called a throne. In keeping with the scale of the hall, the throne was huge, its legs and back carved from some kind of dark wood, maybe mahogany. The seat, which didn’t exactly look comfy, was a thinly padded red and gold tapestry, and a swath of red velvet—a rug, apparently—surrounded the throne like a halo.
The only light in the room came from a series of candle-bearing iron chandeliers, which left most of the arches and corners in impenetrable darkness. The hair on the back of my neck prickled, and I shivered.
“Lugh?” I called out, my voice echoing against the stone as I turned in a circle, looking for him. When I came around full circle, the throne was no longer empty.
I had never seen him looking remotely like this before. He was dressed all in wine-dark red with accents of gleaming gold—a matching set of coat, waistcoat, and breeches adorned with buttons even where buttons weren’t needed. White lace frothed from the cuffs of his coat and foamed beneath his chin. White stockings clung to shapely calves and disappeared into red velvet shoes with gold buckles. His hair was unbound, held back from his face only by a simple gold band that I gathered was a crown.
The face beneath the crown was the same familiar face—Lugh, my demon and, maybe, my friend. But for the first time ever, I truly felt as though I was facing the demon king. My mouth went dry, my throat tightened, and I couldn’t think of a thing to say. How could I stand in a king’s hall and scold said king for speaking out of turn?
Lugh crossed those elegant legs of his at the knee and leaned back into the throne as if it were a cushy recliner rather than hard, carved wood. I wouldn’t call the expression on his face a smile, but there was definitely a hint of amusement in his eyes.
“Have I finally found a way to overawe you, then?” he asked.
I tried a snort, but the sound was feeble and unconvincing. “If I’d known this was a costume party, I’d have dressed up,” I said, determined not to let him make me feel uncomfortable.
He didn’t say anything, merely raised his eyebrows. With a sigh of resignation, I looked down at myself and found that I was dressed in a voluminous green brocade gown. My breasts were pushed up and in by what I could only assume was a corset, and were covered—barely—by a triangular, lace-covered panel that appeared to be pinned to the gown’s bodice. If I breathed too deeply, my nipples would probably make a surprise appearance. I was pretty sure I hadn’t been wearing this getup when the dream had started, but since I hadn’t thought to look at myself, I couldn’t be sure.
“It’s so me,” I muttered dryly as another shiver chilled my spine.
“It would be a sensual delight to strip you out of it,” Lugh said. “A tease in the truest sense of the word. All those little pins holding the stomacher in place, then all the undergarments with their tapes and laces. .”
“You sound like you’ve stripped women out of outfits like this before.”
Again, he didn’t answer, but his silence was answer enough. He was a long-lived, possibly immortal, being, and I knew he’d walked the Mortal Plain before. Perhaps what I was wearing had been the height of women’s fashion when he’d last been here.
Since he’d brought up the subject of sex himself—albeit indirectly—I went on the offensive rather than questioning him about this sudden change in milieu.
“What did you say to Brian when you called him in the middle of the night?”
He sighed and gave me a disappointed look. “Is that what you consider the most important thing for us to talk about?”
Not really. It was just my attempt to wrest control of this dream from Lugh, and that was important to me. “What did you say to him?”
Lugh shook his regal head, making me feel childish even as he answered my question. “I told him you would respond well to a little dominance.” He held up a hand to stave off my protest. “From him. Another lover might not have survived the attempt.”
I was pretty sure he was laughing at me, even though he wasn’t smiling. I wished like hell I could deny what he was saying, but since neither one of us would believe it, I refrained.
“Why?” I asked, my voice little more than a scratchy whisper. Bad enough to have Lugh invading my mind and learning each and every one of my most hidden thoughts and desires. But to have him share them with someone else, even Brian. .
Lugh cocked his head and regarded me closely. I knew he was trying to figure out what he could get away with telling me, and though I would have liked to demand he tell me everything, I wasn’t sure I dared.
“We both know you have trust issues,” he finally said.
“No kidding?” He gave me a quelling look, and I shut up.
“But you desperately long for the ability to trust someone even as you keep sabotaging your own attempts at it.”
“Now wait just a minute—”
Not surprisingly, he talked right over me. “The
part of you that isn’t thinking all the time trusts Brian. That’s what makes your bond with him so special. I advised him to communicate with that part of you.”
“Huh?”
“You would never have put up with, much less enjoyed, what he did if you didn’t trust him implicitly. For someone like you, trusting another person enough to give up control is something of a Holy Grail. I wanted to show you that it was within your grasp, if only you’re willing to reach for it.”
I shook my head violently, and I could swear I felt marbles rattling around in there. I didn’t know what the hell he was talking about, but I was pretty damn sure it had something to do with his machinations to get me to cede control to him on occasion.
“Whatever. Don’t screw with my love life again! It’s none of your business.”
Lugh laughed, though I didn’t know what was so damn funny.
“Besides,” I continued loudly, “I thought you wanted me for yourself. I bet you didn’t mention that to Brian.”
The laughter faded, replaced by a gentle condescension I liked even less. “Brian and I are not in competition. You will never have to choose between us, because I can only come to you when you sleep, and he can only come to you when you wake.”
Somehow I didn’t think Brian would see it that way if he knew the whole picture. I was also damn sure Lugh hadn’t mentioned his own seduction attempts when he was having his little chat with Brian.
I guess I was getting used to being possessed, because until that moment, I hadn’t thought through all the ramifications of my liaison with Brian—ramifications that had loomed large in my mind when Lugh had first possessed me. My jaw set into what I felt certain was an unattractive line as I glared at the demon king.
“So, did you enjoy it when Brian bent me over the kitchen table to fuck me?” I might not be able to be with Lugh and Brian at the same time, but Lugh was always in residence.
Lugh flashed me a completely unrepentant smile. “I have never inhabited a female host before. I must admit the differences in sensation are fascinating, and quite pleasant. And as you have no doubt gathered, demons don’t have the same hang-ups as humans about sexual orientation.”
I suppressed a groan. Not only did I have to worry about Lugh seducing me, I now had to worry that he was using me to seduce Brian. Argh!
I suspected Lugh could read the direction of my thoughts and decided he needed to head me off before I could work my way into a world-class fury.
“Enough talk about your personal issues,” he said, his tone raising my hackles even more. “I believe Hell may have frozen over, because for once I am in agreement with my brother.” The momentary flash of humor in his eyes took a bit of the edge off my anger, though I was still poised to go for his jugular if he made one wrong move.
“Raphael said we were in need of a long-term plan,” Lugh continued. “Somehow, that plan will eventually need to include a way to contain Dougal and all his minions who know my True Name, but my first goal must be to gain myself—and, of course, you—some measure of security.”
Angry as I was, I couldn’t argue with that logic. “And how do you plan to do that?” I asked.
Lugh sat up straight in his throne, his back held stiffly upright, his chin held high, his eyes blazing amber. “I may have been ousted from my throne in the Demon Realm,” he said, “but unless Dougal succeeds in his attempts to kill me, I am still the king. It is time for me to set up my court, and in the face of necessity I shall do so on the Mortal Plain.”
CHAPTER 8
Lugh’s words rang in the empty hall, full of weight and portent. The thing was, I hadn’t the faintest idea what they actually meant. Set up his court? I was trying to frame a question that wouldn’t make me feel like an idiot, but Lugh answered before I succeeded. Sometimes, I don’t know why I bother actually talking to him, seeing as he knows perfectly well what I’m thinking at all times.
“I need to gather a core of faithful supporters. In the Demon Realm, I have a council of advisors, although I don’t know how many of them are truly loyal to me. I inherited them from my father, and some of them are no doubt as enamored of the old ways as Dougal and would be happy to be rid of me. I need to build a new council, one that will serve me on the Mortal Plain.”
“Okay,” I said slowly. “How do you plan to do that?”
“I will start with those I already know are loyal to me.”
I frowned. “In other words. . Adam. Not much of a council.”
He watched me warily. “I am including Raphael. I know you aren’t convinced of his loyalty, but I think he genuinely wants to put me back on the throne.”
“But—”
“He told you far more about what happened in the Houston facility than he had to.”
I laughed, the sound swallowed by the cavernous hall. “Were you listening to the shit he was telling me? He’s not one of the good guys, Lugh.”
He shrugged. “Consider him a necessary evil, then.”
I didn’t like it, but the fact was Raphael was too deeply entangled in my life and Lugh’s to exclude. “Fine. Your council consists of Adam and Raphael.”
“And you and Dominic.”
“Practically an army.”
I wasn’t sure, but it looked like Lugh was counting backward from one hundred. I had that effect on him, and it wasn’t exactly by accident.
“At this point,” he said when he overcame his apparent desire to strangle me, “I can think of only one other demon I would trust enough to draw into my inner circle.”
I don’t know if it was an out-and-out premonition or whether I just made an assumption based on the look on Lugh’s face, but the stupid corset suddenly seemed to be squeezing the air out of my lungs.
“Please don’t say what I think you’re going to say,” I begged, and the regret in his eyes told me I’d guessed right.
“Saul was particularly targeted because of his loyalty to me, and he and Dominic proved to be compatible. There will be. . complications if he joins us on the Mortal Plain once more, but I need more allies.”
I shook my head as I struggled to breathe. Never mind that this was just a dream, and I didn’t actually need to breathe. “No!”
I had never met Saul. I don’t consider the short time we spent together while I was exorcizing him as a real meeting. But despite my sometimes bad attitude toward Dominic, I had to admit I considered him a friend. I didn’t want to lose him, as I’d lost everyone else who’d ever mattered to me.
Okay, that was melodramatic. I hadn’t actually lost Brian, though it wasn’t for lack of trying. But I’d lost my best friend, my father, my brother. . It was enough.
After my moment of self-pity, I allowed myself to think of others. “You can’t do that to Adam!” I protested. I might not like Adam, but even the most clueless idiot could see that he loved Dom. He’d been in a relationship with Saul before, but from everything I’d observed, I knew that relationship hadn’t had the same emotional intensity.
“I know Adam will be unhappy,” Lugh said, “but he will understand it’s for the greater good.”
I thought I’d been angry before. Now I knew what angry really was. “You cold-blooded, cold-hearted bastard! What about Dominic, huh? You’ll just volunteer to sacrifice him for the common good?” I dragged up the hem of my skirts and petticoats or whatever the hell it was I was wearing and stomped up the steps to the dais until I could glare down at Lugh. “How dare you?” I suppose I’d gotten over being awed by his kingly mien. I dropped my handful of skirts and seriously considered throwing a punch, fat lot of good it would do. But it might give me a little outlet for the rage and hurt and, yes, fear that boiled in my gut. Every time I started to think of Lugh as a pretty decent guy, I’d get some kind of a reminder that he was a demon, and that demons don’t think like humans.
“Calm down,” Lugh said, looking up at me and showing no outward reaction to my outburst.
I doubt there was anything he could have said that would have
calmed me less. I decided to throw that punch after all. He made no attempt to avoid it, but then it wasn’t like I could hurt him. His head jerked back with the impact, and his crown slid sideways, but his facial expression didn’t change.
“When you’re through having your temper tantrum, let me know and I’ll finish saying my piece.” He crossed his arms over his chest and affected a pose of exaggerated patience.
I was sorely tempted to continue my “temper tantrum,” as he called it, but I fought that temptation. Maybe I’d misunderstood what he was trying to say. Maybe he wasn’t planning to offer up Dominic like a sacrificial lamb.
Nah. That was exactly what he’d meant, and I knew it. But as satisfying as yelling, screaming, and otherwise making a fool of myself might be, I knew it wouldn’t do me—or Dom—a bit of good.
I sucked in as much air as I could manage, my head feeling light and fizzy from lack of oxygen. “Get me out of this damn corset,” I snarled at Lugh.
Once the words left my mouth, I wished I could suck them back in. Whenever I complained about the way he’d dressed me, I always seemed to end up in something worse. I braced myself for something embarrassingly flimsy, but for once he declined to torment me.
My breathing came easier, and when I glanced cautiously down at myself, I saw that I was now dressed in loose, comfy gray sweats. The outfit didn’t exactly blend in with the grand hall or Lugh’s kingly red and gold, but it was definitely more me than the Marie Antoinette getup. I clamped my jaws together to stop myself from saying anything else as I glared at Lugh, who remained calmly seated on his throne.
When he was satisfied that I wasn’t going to light into him anymore, he spoke again.