by Jenna Black
“I’m sure,” he said, nodding. “You’ll be able to find someone else willing to host him, even if it takes a little while. And if you’re worried that he might mistreat his host, tell him we’ll transfer him into me every once in a while, just to keep him honest. I’ll be all right. But let’s go ahead and do it and end the suspense.”
I didn’t have enough candles for everyone in Lugh’s council to join the circle, so two people had to sit out. I wasn’t at all surprised that Saul volunteered to be one of them, taking Barbie with him. Although he hadn’t put up any argument, his face clearly said how much he hated the idea of bringing Raphael back to the Mortal Plain. He’d always been such a hothead that I half expected him to make a fuss, even knowing how much the uncertainty hurt Lugh. But I guess he wasn’t as selfish as I’d thought.
We cleared a large space on the living room rug, and Andy lay down on his back. Saul and Barbie watched from outside the circle as I lit the first candle, then used that flame to light Brian’s. One by one, the candles were lit, until the circle was ready. Tension filled the air, and I think we were all having trouble remembering to breathe.
If the summoning works, I told Lugh, I want you to take control again.
I could almost feel his surprise. That would be three times in one day. It’ll make you sick.
He was right. I’d be in for about three days of pure misery. But if Raphael was indeed alive, how could I deny Lugh the chance to speak to the brother he’d almost lost?
I can handle it if you can, I told Lugh. Since he got to experience all the physical symptoms right along with me, he knew exactly what we’d be going through. But I wasn’t surprised that he was willing to endure it.
Thank you, he said, just as Andy began the incantation.
Andy spoke slowly and clearly, his concentration narrowed and focused on the words he was saying. He would not put us through the agony of having to listen to him fumble and flub and have to start over ten million times like Jonathan had.
By the time he finished the third repetition, I was gripping my candle so tightly it was a minor miracle I hadn’t broken it in half and ruined the circle.
The last syllables of Raphael’s True Name left Andy’s mouth, and I held my breath. For a long, agonizing moment, Andy lay there blinking and not speaking, giving us no clue as to whose mind was controlling his body.
Then a smile broke over his face. “Holy fucking shit!” he said, pushing himself into a sitting position.
“It worked!” He gave a quick look around the circle—counting heads, I think, to make sure everyone had survived—then locked eyes with me.
Actually, with Lugh, who had taken control without a hint of hesitation. Lugh stood up, his hands curled into fists, his jaw so tight I was afraid he would break my teeth. I’d have bet my last dollar his eyes were glowing.
Raphael scrambled to his feet and held up both his hands in a gesture that was either supposed to be placating, or that was just supposed to hold Lugh off. “I know you probably want to beat the shit out of me right now, but believe me, the fire hurt bad enough. I don’t need any more punishment.”
Brian cleared his throat loudly. “I think I have something I have to do at home,” he said, blowing out his candle and standing up. He swept his gaze over the remaining council members, just in case they didn’t get the hint.
One by one, they blew out their candles and stood. Someone turned on the lamp beside the sofa, but I didn’t see who. Lugh remained exactly where he was, his posture no less stiff. I couldn’t literally feel what he was feeling, but I more than understood it.
Raphael kept a wary eye on his brother as the rest of Lugh’s council members filed out. Brian stopped briefly in the doorway.
“If Morgan needs help when she’s back in control, call me,” he said, but didn’t wait for Lugh to acknowledge his words.
Then it was just Lugh and Raphael and me. I wished I could do as the others had and slip away, giving the brothers their privacy, but that was not among my options.
You can never have privacy from me, Lugh said. It seems only fair that I should not have it from you.
“I don’t know whether to hug you or strangle you,” he said out loud.
Raphael’s chin lifted a fraction of an inch. “I might have hoped you’d have a second or two of gratitude before you blew your top.”
If I’d been in control of my mouth, I would have laughed. It was strangely good to know that some things about Raphael had not changed. Lugh was not similarly amused.
“I watched you die,” he said, his voice scratchy. I felt the tears that burned in his eyes. “Do you have any idea …?” His voice broke completely on that, and he closed his eyes. When he opened them again, the look on Raphael’s face had gentled.
“I’m sorry I put you through that, brother,” he said, and I was pretty sure he actually meant it. “But maybe I’m the ultimate coward. Maybe I couldn’t have borne to be the one watching you burn.” His gaze dropped to the floor, and I had the feeling I was seeing the real Raphael for the first time, stripped of all his masks and defenses. “You’re everything I’ve always wished I could be. I couldn’t let you risk your life. Not when I could risk mine instead.”
Lugh crossed the distance between them, grabbed Raphael’s shoulders, and gave him a teeth-rattling shake. “You weren’t just risking your life!” he shouted, getting up in Raphael’s face. How he managed that when he was in my body and Raphael’s borrowed body was at least three inches taller, I don’t know. “You were committing goddamn suicide! I don’t care what Andrew said, you couldn’t have known you would survive.”
“No, I couldn’t know,” Raphael countered. “But I could hope.” He tried a cautious grin. “And honestly, how could I expect Saul to resist when he actually had the chance to shoot me?”
With an inarticulate cry of rage, Lugh shook Raphael’s shoulders again, practically knocking him to the floor. Then he pulled Raphael to him and hugged him fiercely.
“Don’t ever do that to me again!” Lugh growled in his ear.
Raphael returned the hug a bit awkwardly, like he wasn’t used to such gestures of affection. “I don’t plan to,” he said with a shudder. “Believe me, once was more than enough.”
The hug went on far longer than most human men would have allowed, but eventually they broke apart. Lugh glanced at the coffee table, where the paper Raphael had brought still lay unopened, practically forgotten.
“Did you leave that with me just because you thought you were going to die, or did you actually want me to know?”
Raphael stuck his hands in his pockets, looking uncomfortable. “A little of both, I guess.” He grimaced.
“I tried really hard not to think about facing you after you read it.”
“I haven’t looked at it yet. If you want to take it back, you can.”
Raphael sighed and stared at the piece of paper. “Very tempting.” The look in his eyes turned to one of cunning, an expression he’d worn often while residing in Andy’s body before. “Perhaps we can come to an arrangement. I’ll give you the paper and I’ll help you clean up the mess. In return, you’ll grant me a royal pardon.”
Lugh let out a little groan, then pinched the bridge of his nose. He was acting all exasperated, but I’d bet anything what he was feeling deep down was relief that Raphael had given him a solid excuse for granting the pardon.
Raphael shrugged and reached for the paper. “Well, if you don’t want my help …”
“Leave it,” Lugh said with a sigh. “You have your pardon.”
Raphael let the paper fall back onto the coffee table. “Try to remember you’ve already pardoned me when you read this.”
Lugh shook his head, but resisted the urge to comment. “I’m going to put Morgan back in control,” he said, and I could hear the reluctance in his voice. “This will be the third control shift of the day. We’re going to be very, very sick.”
Raphael nodded. “I’ll call Brian and ask him to come t
ake care of you. And I’ll hang around till he gets here, in case you need anything.”
Lugh nodded his thanks and squeezed his brother’s shoulder. Then he considerately steered my body into the bathroom and raised the toilet seat before he put me back in control.
epilogue
I SPENT THREE MISERABLE DAYS ALTERNATING between kneeling in front of the toilet and lying flat on my back with a pillow over my face praying for death. I seriously considered shoving Raphael into the oven when I got better, figuring it was all his fault I was sick as a dog. Have I mentioned I get grumpy when I’m sick? Brian did his best to take care of me, but even he knew better than to press his luck. I knew he was still sleeping over—even though we no longer needed the buddy system—but he slept in the guest bedroom instead of in my bed. For his own safety, no doubt.
By Tuesday, I was starting to feel a bit better and was cautiously optimistic that it was safe for innocent bystanders to be near me. Lugh and I had both been too miserable to put too much thought into the future, but when I woke up on Tuesday and was able to think about something other than my aching head and roiling stomach, I couldn’t put off wondering how things were going to change now that Dougal was dead any longer.
Sure, Lugh was the undisputed king of the Demon Realm now, but he wasn’t in the Demon Realm, and couldn’t get there unless I died. (Yes, we could have found a different host to put him in and kill, but to my intense relief, Lugh was as adamantly against this plan as I.)
Raphael had resided in Andy’s body for all of about twelve hours before the council—without consulting Lugh or me—decided we had the perfect alternative host available: Jonathan Foreman. William was not thrilled to be sent back to the Demon Realm, but since Dougal wasn’t waiting there to make his life miserable, no one felt too bad about letting Raphael exorcize him. Including me, even though I thought they should have asked first.
The moment Raphael learned that Lugh was not planning to return to the Demon Realm in the immediate future, he had a few choice words for us.
“So he’s just going to take a seventy-year vacation on the Mortal Plain while our kingdom is in turmoil?” he asked incredulously.
I snorted. “Hardly a vacation! It’s not like you and Dougal between you haven’t left enough crap to clean up on the Mortal Plain to keep him busy for my lifetime and more.”
Raphael backed down, at least temporarily, but I was sure we hadn’t heard the last of it. And frankly, I wasn’t sure Lugh was being completely honest about his reasoning, either. Admittedly, I couldn’t argue that there was plenty left to do here on the Mortal Plain, like finding a way to shut down all the remaining labs Dougal and Raphael had set up. And getting as many of Dougal’s people as possible back to the Demon Realm—and in prison. And figuring out what Dougal had been planning to do with them all, and whether that plan was still extant now that he was dead. We may have secured Lugh’s throne, but our troubles were far from over.
What I wasn’t so sure of was that Lugh had to supervise those efforts personally.
If I could get back to the Demon Realm without anyone having to die, I might consider it, he told me. But even if that were the case, I’m not sure I would go back just yet. For all the turmoil Dougal caused, there was only so much effect he could have in the Demon Realm without the power of the throne behind him. He could do a hell of a lot more damage here, so I suspect here may be where I’m needed most.
All very logical, but I couldn’t help wondering if a lingering attachment to me—and to Brian—had any influence on his decision.
Of course, it was all well and good to have Lugh stay on the Mortal Plain for the span of my lifetime—
after all, to a demon, the lifespan of a human being was barely a drop in the bucket—but someone had to rule in the Demon Realm while Lugh was here, and it wouldn’t be whoever Dougal had left in charge when he’d come to the Mortal Plain for the duel.
There was really only one logical choice. Raphael just wasn’t regent material, even if we could have cast him out—no sure thing—and even if we didn’t need him on the Mortal Plain to help clean up his mess. The only other member of the royal family whom Lugh could trust was Saul.
Neither Saul nor Barbie was what you’d call happy about the idea. They hadn’t been together all that long, but it seemed like their attachment had grown pretty deep in that short time. Nonetheless, Saul had little choice but to do as his king commanded. Lugh did make a concession, however, promising to summon Saul back to the Mortal Plain once a month so that Saul could update him on what was happening on the home front. Saul and Barbie would get to spend a little time together, and then we would exorcize him and send him back to the Demon Realm once more. Talk about your long-distance relationships …
Even more fun for Barbie was that she’d have to take care of Dick, Saul’s host, while Saul was away. We had once thought Dick was mentally challenged, but according to Saul, he was of perfectly average intelligence. He’d just been so badly abused as part of Dougal and Raphael’s breeding program that he would never be quite self-sufficient. His condition had improved since he’d teamed up with Saul, but he would probably never be able to take care of himself without help.
And then there was Brian.
The whole buddy system is a thing of the past, but it seems like every day, Brian manages to get himself more firmly entrenched in my apartment. His underwear is in my dresser drawer, his clothes hang in my closet, and his toiletries sit on my bathroom counter.
If I didn’t know any better, I’d say we were living together.
Someday, I might even find the courage to admit it to myself. And then we could both move into his condo, which is a hell of a lot nicer than my apartment. But I’m not ready for that yet, and I’m not sure Brian is, either. He understands now why I didn’t want to give up Lugh, and he no longer brings up the possibility, but I know he still struggles with jealousy. I don’t suppose I’d have felt any different in his shoes. Complicating the issue was the fact that we both knew Lugh’s seduction attempts were going to continue. Even so, our relationship was on firmer ground than it had ever been—which was actually a rather scary commentary on its own, but there you go.
When I’d first found out I was possessed, I’d spent a lot of time wishing my life could go back to the way it was before I’d even known Lugh existed. But looking back now, it’s hard to remember why I’d found the idea so appealing. Back then, I’d just been going through the motions of living my life. I’d kept everyone, even Brian, at arm’s length, and I’d carried around so much anger and resentment it was amazing I didn’t collapse under the weight.
Don’t get me wrong: I’m not the poster child for sweetness and light now, either. But I have a man I love, and who loves me back. I have a demon I care about and respect—and, yes, still lust after, though I hate to admit it. I have friends—the real kind, who I can be myself with and actually trust. And because of Lugh, there’s purpose in my life. Working with him and with his council, I can do good, both for my people and for his.
It’s more than I ever dreamed of having.
Are people really capable of changing? My answer used to be a resounding “no.” Now, I think the answer might be a tentative “yes.” But it remains to be seen whether all those changes are for the good.
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