I followed Raphael through the piles of books that were strewn carelessly on the floor. He paused in front of the door, which could only lead to the bedroom. We both listened intently, but there was no sound from inside other than the music.
His face grim, Raphael pushed open the door and peeked inside. I held my breath.
Raphael’s head and shoulders drooped, and he let out a sigh of resignation. I tried to peek around his shoulder, but he blocked me with one arm and pushed me back.
“You don’t want to see this,” he warned.
No, of course I didn’t. But I ducked under Raphael’s arm anyway.
David Keller lay naked on the bed. Duct tape sealed his mouth and circled his wrists and ankles. His eyes were wide and staring, and the bloody circular wound in the center of his forehead looked almost like a third eye. The pillow and mattress beneath him were soaked in blood, and I belatedly noticed the nasty, coppery odor.
Suddenly light-headed, I swayed and reached out to grab the door frame to keep from falling. Raphael snatched my hand away before I made contact.
“Don’t touch anything!” he snapped. “Do you really want your fingerprints here?”
That thought didn’t do much for my light-headedness. For a moment, I seriously thought I was about to faint. Raphael kept me on my feet, his arm wrapped around my shoulders. With his free hand, he used the bottom of his T-shirt to wipe off the doorknob, then dragged me through the cluttered room back to the front door.
“Get a grip on yourself,” he said sharply, giving me a little shake for emphasis. “We need to get out of here before anyone sees us.”
I blinked, hoping that would make the dizziness go away. It didn’t, but I gritted my teeth and pushed away from Raphael. I was pleasantly surprised to find I could stand on my own power, and I took a deep breath to further steady myself.
Raphael peered out of the peephole, making sure the coast was clear. Then he opened the door and once again used his T-shirt to wipe down the knob, both inside and out.
“Keep your head down,” Raphael said, “and if we run into anyone, try to keep me between you and them. You’re more easily identifiable than I am.”
Unfortunately true. Just for tonight, I wished my hair were some sedate, nondescript color. Maybe I needed to rethink my flamboyant look now that I was constantly running from trouble.
We made it all the way to the first floor without being spotted, but we had the bad luck of opening the front door at the exact same time someone was coming in. I lowered my head and hunched my shoulders, trying to look smaller than I really was, and I slid my arm through Raphael’s, using his body for cover. My mouth was bone dry, and I had to remind myself to breathe or I might have passed out.
Because I was hiding behind Raphael, I didn’t get a good look at the young couple who came in, but from what I could tell, they seemed to be in too much of a hurry to find the nearest bedroom to pay much attention to Raphael and me.
My nerves still on red alert, I allowed Raphael to lead me out into the street and put a few blocks between us and Keller’s apartment before calling a cab to take us home.
CHAPTER 18
We hadn’t gotten more than two blocks before Raphael suddenly, and without consulting me, told the cabbie there was a change in plans and gave him his own address. The cabbie, much quieter than our previous one, barely gave a grunt of acknowledgment as he changed course. I gave Raphael a furious look— I didn’t want to spend more time in his company than was absolutely necessary—but of course I didn’t dare question him in front of a witness.
I fumed in silence as we drove past the university and into a residential area that was too rich for the average student’s blood. At a guess, I’d say it was a popular area for faculty.
Tommy Brewster had been living in student housing, sharing his apartment with a slimy roommate, but that situation hadn’t been to Raphael’s liking. As soon as he’d moved into Tommy’s body, he’d ditched the roommate and relocated to a town house. I didn’t know where he got the money to afford the nice town house, and I didn’t ask. Sometimes, ignorance really is bliss.
As soon as we stepped out of the cab, Raphael whipped out his cell phone.
“Oh, no, you don’t,” I said, grabbing his wrist. “First, you tell me why the change of plans.”
He broke my grip easily. His face looked uncommonly grim as he held the phone between his cheek and his shoulder and unlocked his front door. “Just give me a minute,” he said.
I crossed my arms over my chest and narrowed my eyes. “Tell me what the hell you’re up to!” I demanded, but he ignored me.
The tension visibly eased from his shoulders when someone answered his call. I couldn’t hear the other side of the conversation at all, but Raphael considerately clued me in as to whom he was calling.
“Saul,” he said, sounding relieved. “You need to get out of Morgan’s apartment ASAP. Come to my place, and I’ll explain.”
I didn’t need to hear the other end of the conversation to know Saul’s reaction. Raphael’s jaw tightened. He pushed open his front door, then shoved me over the threshold when I stubbornly refused to move.
The door slammed behind us, and Raphael threw the deadbolt while glaring at me. I was too used to being glared at to be terribly bothered by it.
“Please, just get out of there,” Raphael said. “The police may be paying a visit soon, and if they find you there, they might start asking questions. Unless Adam has made more progress than I think in creating an identity for you, you can’t hold up to much scrutiny.”
He listened intently for a moment; then the tension in his body language dwindled, and I knew Saul had agreed to get out of my apartment. I was beginning to think through the ramifications of Keller’s death, and I wasn’t liking them one bit.
First off, it meant that we had no idea whose body my demon enemy was in now. Second, it meant there was another mysterious death that I could be a suspect in. And last, but certainly not least, it hinted that the demon had no more use for Keller, which meant that if he’d been planning to plant incriminating evidence, he’d likely done so already.
Raphael hung up the phone, finally turning his attention back to me. “Saul is on his way here. Have you caught up with me yet?”
“You want me to hide from the police,” I said in an accusatory voice.
“At least for the moment,” he agreed. “If anyone saw us go in there tonight and they tell the police, I’m betting you’ll get promoted from ‘person of interest’ to ‘suspect’ in no time flat. We can’t afford to have you locked up.”
“Running away is just going to make me look guilty!” I protested, but I wasn’t surprised that Raphael didn’t budge.
“Better to look guilty than get thrown in jail,” he said. “We need Adam’s input. Do you want to call him, or shall I?”
Control freak that I am, I should have insisted on making the call myself. But I just couldn’t psych myself up to do it. I was too tired, too stressed, to deal with Adam, who would probably find some reason why this fiasco was all my fault.
“You do it,” I said flatly.
To my surprise, Raphael reached out and gave my arm a squeeze, and it didn’t feel like he was trying to crush my bones into powder.
“We’ve gotten through worse situations,” he said. “We’ll get through this, too.”
I wanted to object to the word “we,” didn’t want to admit that Raphael and I were in any way in this together, but for once I managed to keep my opinion to myself. I gave a brisk nod that Raphael took as agreement of some kind. Then he parked me in his living room with a strong rum and Coke by my side and called Adam for advice.