He bared his teeth at me like a dog. He was either growling at me or gritting his teeth in pain. I hoped it was the latter.
We all waited in silence until Raphael regained control of Dr. Neely’s body. “That was unnecessary,” he said when he had the breath to spare.
“Maybe. But it was fun.”
He shook his head at me and sat up. “You’re supposed to be pleased I’m not here to kill Andrew. Instead, you shoot me.”
“Am I supposed to feel sorry for you?”
He sighed. “I suppose not. Do you want to hear what else I have to say, or would you rather punish me some more?”
I couldn’t claim to be real anxious to hear anything else he might have to tell me, but I figured it wasn’t something I could avoid. “Why don’t you just shoot me an e-mail?” I grumbled, but he knew I was caving.
“It wasn’t me who left an empty host behind for your buddy to find.”
“Adam is not my buddy,” I retorted, though I knew how unimportant the distinction was.
Raphael gave me a knowing look. “Whatever. It wasn’t me.”
“I heard you the first time.” Then I noticed the concerned look in his eyes, and I frowned. “Are you telling me you know who it is?”
“I have a suspicion.”
That worried the hell out of me. “Who is it?”
He smiled condescendingly. “No one you know.”
“Do you want me to shoot you again to loosen up your tongue?”
The smile faded. “You and Lugh make a great couple. I saved your life, remember?”
I couldn’t help laughing. “You don’t get credit for saving my life when you’re the one who put it in danger in the first place, asshole. And you tortured my boyfriend, and God only knows what you did to Andy in the ten years you were with him. I don’t owe you a goddamn thing.”
It didn’t look like he appreciated that at all. He scowled at me, then rose to his feet despite the fact that I’d rearmed the Taser.
“Fine,” he snarled, moving toward the door. “Maybe I don’t owe you a goddamn thing, either. You’re more trouble than you’re worth.”
“Tell me who just entered the Mortal Plain!” I demanded, but Raphael kept moving toward the door.
“Fuck you,” he said, and jerked the door open.
My finger twitched on the trigger, but I stopped myself from shooting him again. Yeah, it might get him to hang around, but somehow I didn’t think it would inspire him to talk.
“I’m sorry,” I said, belatedly realizing I should have kept a muzzle on my temper.
In case I didn’t get the message the first time, he gave me the finger. And he slammed the door behind him when he left.
CHAPTER 7
I had a hell of a hard time falling asleep that night. Too much on my mind, I guess. Too many secrets hovering outside my grasp, too much turmoil in my heart, too much fear for my future. And not enough trust to fill a thimble. Andy was lying to me. Raphael was only marginally one of the good guys. Adam tolerated me only for Lugh’s sake. Lugh—nice as he was, for the most part—would do whatever was necessary to further his cause, no matter what happened to me or those I cared about in the process. And it had been over a week since Brian had made his last overture. It looked like he had finally given up on me.
Which was exactly what I wanted, I told myself as I flopped around in my bed and punched the pillow. He had suffered enough on my account, and I hadn’t been good for him even before I’d acquired Lugh.
My chest tightened as a wave of loneliness crashed over me. I’d known almost since the first time I’d met him that I was in love with Brian. I’d known it would hurt like hell to let him go. But no amount of knowing could have prepared me for the desolation I felt now as I realized I might well have gotten my wish.
Eventually, sleep dragged me down, but I wasn’t at all surprised when I found myself in Lugh’s living room. I almost wished I could communicate with him while I was awake, just so I could get a good night’s sleep. But if I could communicate while awake, it would mean he was gaining more control, and that wasn’t something I allowed myself to wish for.
He was wearing the S&M getup with the black leather straps again. My hormones hummed their approval, and it felt like every cell in my body was straining to cross the distance between us.
“You lied to me,” I accused, hoping an argument would keep my cravings under control.
He looked surprised. “About what?” And then he must have gleaned the source of my annoyance from my mind. “Adam was wrong. I don’t know my brothers’ True Names.” He grimaced. “I thought by not forcing them to reveal their True Names when I took the throne, I might mend some fences.”
“Huh?”
He gave me one of those penetrating looks of his, then decided to let me in on another closely held secret. “True Names are granted by the king. As Adam said, it’s a rare ‘honor’”—I could hear the quotes he put around the word—“granted only to the extraordinary.” He shook his head. “The hidden meaning behind the honor is that you’re powerful enough to be a potential threat to the king. So he grants you a True Name, which really is considered an honor—but it also allows the king to summon you from anywhere in the Demon Realm at a moment’s notice. A collar and leash, as it were. That it allows us to be summoned to the Mortal Plain as well is merely a side effect.”
It sure would have made our lives easier if Lugh had put that collar and leash on his brothers.
“As king,” Lugh continued, “I should know the True Names of all my subjects who have them. Most gave them voluntarily as soon as I took the throne. When my brothers refused, I could have used my power to force them to tell me, but I didn’t. Which probably cemented Dougal’s opinion that I was too soft to lead the Demon Realm.”
His image started to go fuzzy around the edges, like it did when I was starting to wake up from one of these dreams.
“Don’t wake up yet,” he urged, then blinked out of existence. I thought I was going to wake up despite his urging, but then some sixth sense told me where he was, only a fraction of a second before the warmth of his breath tickled the back of my neck. “I haven’t finished with you.”
His hands came to rest on my shoulders, his grip firm enough that with only the tiniest bit more pressure, he’d leave bruises. I tensed, but something in my center tightened in anticipation. The room solidified around me as his touch pulled me back down into sleep. His hands slid down my arms until they cuffed my wrists, and then he pressed his chest up against my back.
My throat went dry as I realized that somewhere along the line he’d lost his decorative leather straps—and I’d lost my shirt.
His skin was warm and smooth against mine, and the silky locks of his hair draped over my shoulder when he planted a soft kiss on the side of my neck.
“What are you doing?” I gasped, but though my mind urged me to pull away, I found myself holding very still, my heartbeat ratcheting up as my breath came suddenly short.
His chuckle tickled my ear. “I don’t think it’s terribly mysterious.” He emphasized his point with a little bump-and-grind action that let me feel the entire length and breadth of him. It seemed he’d lost his pants now, too.
I clenched my thighs together against the surge of my desire. I’d been attracted to Lugh since the first moment I’d laid eyes on him, but I didn’t dare let myself act on that attraction. Not because I was saving myself for Brian, I mentally insisted.
“Relax, Morgan,” Lugh whispered in my ear. “I’m not going to make love to you. I know you’re not ready for that yet.”
I tried to muster a protest at his use of the word “yet,” but my tongue appeared to be glued to the roof of my mouth, and I had too many brain cells focused on the pulsing heat at the small of my back to unstick it.