Actually, I used vanilla-scented candles, and I didn’t exactly carry them around with me at all times. I wondered what the chances were that Adam and Dom had some lying around, but I figured they were slim. I bit my lip, wondering if I’d be able to get into the necessary trance state without my traditional trigger.

I averted my eyes as Tommy took off his wet clothes. My eyes landed on Adam and Dominic. Adam was beginning to regain control of his limbs, but Dom wasn’t letting him sit up yet. If Adam wasn’t strong enough to fight Dom’s restraint, then he wasn’t ready to sit up.

“Someone should get a trash bag for Tommy’s clothes,” I said to no one in particular. Raphael was busy menacing Tommy, Adam was still too weak, and Dominic wasn’t about to leave his lover’s side, so I slipped out of the room.

I made an educated guess as to where I might find trash bags and headed for the kitchen. It wasn’t until I tried to open the cabinet under the sink that I realized my hands were shaking. I supposed Raphael had saved us a lot of time—and, in a strange sort of way, saved Tommy a lot of suffering—by his methods. That didn’t mean I liked them. I shuddered and tried not to think about what it would have been like in there if Raphael had lit the fire.

I found the trash bags, but then took a minute or two to splash some cold water on my face and pull myself together as best I could. Yeah, I was a real badass, all right.

By the time I got back to the room, Adam had recovered enough to sit up. Dom helped him to his feet, and Adam struggled over to the big black bed, sitting down heavily when he reached it.

“You going to be okay?” Dom asked, and Adam nodded.

Dom took the trash bag from my hand, stuffed Tommy’s clothes into it, then took the bag away. The room still reeked of gas, and I wasn’t sure lighting candles would be a good idea, even if Adam and Dom had the requisite vanilla.

“We discussed logistics while you were gone,” Raphael said. “Dom’s going to get the candles.”

“I don’t suppose you’ve got vanilla,” I muttered at Adam.

He looked a little woozy from the Taser shot still, but he managed to smile at me. “Actually, we do. Candles can be a lot of fun, and vanilla’s an erotic scent.”

I must have looked as clueless as I was, because, of course, Adam had to elaborate.

“Think of it as a kind of erotic hot wax treatment,” he said, then waggled his brows at me.

Predictably, my face went hot. I admit I’m pretty naive where the practices of S&M are concerned, and I’d have been perfectly happy to stay that way. Dominic returned with the candles, saving me from having to think of the perfect reply.

“Move away from the wall,” Raphael ordered Tommy.

Tommy didn’t seem to have any fight left in him. He just did as he was told. Without me having to ask, Dom started laying out the candles in a circle around Tommy. The circle isn’t really necessary for the ritual, but I knew this was going to be a particularly tough exorcism, and I was happy to fall back on tradition.

I wasn’t overly concerned that I wouldn’t be able to exorcize Tommy’s demon. It was what would happen next that had my stomach tied into knots.

Would I really give Tommy over to another demon? In a rare flash of insight, I realized part of the reason I’d been so desperate to exorcize Tommy’s demon was my inability to exorcize my own. If I couldn’t be free of the demons, at least I could free one other lost soul.

Take one problem at a time, I advised myself, but I’m lousy at taking advice, even my own.

Considering what scum the demon who’d taken Tommy was, in all probability, he’d come out the other end of this exorcism brain damaged, maybe even brain-dead. Would it really be so wrong of me to let Raphael or Saul take him then? If he was going to be a prisoner in his own body anyway. .

The scent of vanilla drew me out of my tumultuous thoughts, and I saw that Dom had started lighting the candles. Needing to do something, not just stand still and think, I took over the candle-lighting duties. Though I dragged my feet a bit, all too soon the last candle was lit.

Everything was ready for me. The only question was, was I ready myself?

Hell, no. But that didn’t stop me.

Trying to still the clamoring of my mind, I sat cross-legged facing Tommy. He looked much younger now than he had before, with his red-rimmed eyes and pale skin. He’d drawn his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them, whether because he was cold or because he was trying to cover his nakedness, I didn’t know. I felt a tug of pity, then shook my head.

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.”