This wasn’t Tommy Brewster. This was a demon who’d taken over Tommy’s body. And I wasn’t going to hurt the demon—more’s the pity—I was just going to send him back to the Demon Realm.
Taking a deep breath and hoping my nerves would steady, I let my eyes slide closed. The warm scent of vanilla enfolded me, and I felt my muscles begin to relax—a conditioned response for which I was very thankful at the moment. It took me longer than usual to get myself into the trance and open my otherworldly eyes, but I managed it.
In my otherworldly vision, I can see only the living. They show up as patches of bright, primary colors in a never-ending sea of black. Demons glow bloodred, and I had a moment of primal terror as I cast my vision around the room and saw the three red auras that hovered so close to me. Only Dominic showed up in the human blue that I thought of as “normal.”
I shook off that moment of fear and concentrated on the aura I knew was Tommy’s. I gathered my will, my power, whatever it was that gave me the ability to exorcize demons, waiting until I’d drawn in every ounce I could find.
Every exorcist has an image he or she uses to help visualize casting out a demon. Mine is wind. I gathered that will into my body, and then all at once released it in a great gust of gale-force wind. The wind of my will slammed into Tommy’s demon-red aura.
For a moment, the aura clung stubbornly. Then the pressure of the wind became too much. The red aura shattered and was swept away, leaving only a very human shade of blue behind. Letting out a breath of relief, I opened my eyes.
But then I looked into a pair of hate-filled, obviously sentient eyes that bored into mine.
Tommy Brewster wasn’t brain-dead, or even brain damaged. And boy, was he ever pissed.
To show his great gratitude to me for freeing him from the demon, Tommy launched himself across the short distance that separated us. I’d been expecting a vegetable, not a homicidal maniac, so I was completely unprepared for the attack. Before I’d even managed a squeak of alarm, he’d knocked me flat on my back and wrapped both his hands around my throat. He started to squeeze, his eyes wide and hysterical-looking as he shouted Bible verses. It didn’t take a Biblical scholar to notice he was mixing and matching verses at random, but then most of his concentration was focused on the important task of choking me to death. I was starting to see spots by the time he suddenly screamed and went limp on top of me.
Holding the stun belt trigger, Raphael came to stand over the two of us, looking disgustingly amused. “You make a lovely couple,” he said, and I remembered that Tommy was naked. I shoved him away from me, and though he was conscious and tried to keep his hands on my throat, he was too stunned to manage it.
I lay there on my back and breathed. I was going to have yet another set of bruises if I didn’t give Lugh a chance to fix things. Tommy was shouting so loud I could hardly hear myself think. Something about hellfire and brimstone.
If he’d kept that up, I might have been happy to give him to the demons just to shut him up. As it was, the invective gave way to sobs, and pity reared its ugly head. I didn’t know what Tommy had just gone through in the clutches of that demon, but clearly it hadn’t been a good time. It seemed like something of a miracle that his mind had survived. Perhaps his childhood trauma had left him stronger and more resilient than your average human. Or perhaps his fanaticism had served as some kind of shield. After all, there’s a reason we call people like him “closed-minded.”
“I am unclean,” I heard him hiccup among the sobs.
At first I thought he was talking about the gas and piss on him. Then I remembered what I knew about the World According to God’s Wrath. They hated human hosts as much as they hated the demons, because they believed that only a corrupt soul would allow a demon in. It even made a little sense, when you’re talking about legal demons. After all, they’re “legal” because they’ve been invited. But God’s Wrath hated even those who were taken by force, and despite his convictions, Tommy would never be able to return to them.
Fingering my aching throat, I sat up and stared at Claudia Brewster’s son. He’d faced more hardship in his twenty-one years than most people faced in a lifetime. Could I really condemn him to a lifetime of possession now that he was free? I wished he’d attack me again, or at least start raving like the lunatic that he was so I could stop feeling so goddamn sorry for him. But he didn’t. He just lay there on the floor in the fetal position and wept.
Raphael, still holding the trigger, squatted down to meet my eyes. I found I couldn’t look away.
“Let me take him,” he said softly, and only the dilation of his pupils gave away how eager he was. “He’s the only person in this room who could walk right into Claudia Brewster’s house without causing a raised eyebrow. He can get us in there, and we can get those children out.”
“You’re not doing this because you want to save those children,” I said. I didn’t know what Raphael really wanted, but he didn’t do much of anything out of the goodness of his heart.
“He’d be just as able to get us in there if he was hosting Saul,” Adam said.
I hadn’t heard him approach, but he was standing practically on top of me. I didn’t think this was a decision I should make sitting down, so I forced myself to my feet. Both Adam and Raphael tried to help steady me, but I snarled at them until they let go.
“Take a good look at him,” Raphael said, and we all did. He hadn’t let up on the sobbing yet. “Do you really think you can get him to speak the incantation to summon Saul?”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “You got me to summon Lugh!”
“Because I drugged you and knew you well enough to get through your defenses. Tommy wouldn’t be that easy, and you know it. How much time do you think those kids have? Enough time for me to break Tommy and to make him speak the incantation? I doubt the demons will keep them alive long when Tommy goes AWOL on them.”
“Shut up! You’ve made your point.”
“Besides, I bet we can find a good host for Saul.” He looked up at Adam. “Surely you can find someone at that club you’re so fond of. Someone who’s too homely to be a host, but would really like to be. And who shares Saul’s unique tastes.”
Adam didn’t say anything, but I could tell he was thinking it over. It seemed Tommy would not be Saul’s host. But it remained to be seen whether he would be Raphael’s. Raphael didn’t need an invitation to take him over. Once on the Mortal Plain, a demon can transfer from one host to another through physical contact. All it would take was the slightest brush of skin against skin, and Tommy would be gone once more. And my brother would be back.
“You have to decide, Morgan,” Raphael urged. “And the sooner you decide, the sooner we can get those kids to safety.”
I hated this. I was going to hate myself, whatever I decided. “Is this what Andy wants?” I asked, meeting Raphael’s gaze and wishing his face were as open as mine.
Raphael blinked as if startled by the question. Then he shrugged. “He would never admit to wanting it. He’s far too noble for that.” In Raphael’s mouth, “noble” sounded like a dirty word. “But down beneath his civilized exterior, he wants it quite desperately.”
I supposed that had been rather a silly question. Whatever Andy might choose if he actually had a choice, it was inevitable that deep down inside he would wish for freedom. So much for my attempt to put this decision on Andy’s shoulders.
I took another look at Tommy, tried to imagine what his life would be like if we just let him go home now. Then I shook my head at myself. It didn’t matter if his life would suck or not. I could justify this till the apocalypse, and it wouldn’t change the reality. When faced with the choice between my brother and a stranger, I was going to choose my brother—even if I thought my choice was morally wrong. I reminded myself to apologize to Brian for not fully understanding his decision to help Lugh kill my father.