I’d spoken with Shae, the owner of The Seven Deadlies, more times than I would have believed possible, considering how much I loathed her. The Seven Deadlies was a demon sex club, and its basement, aptly named Hell, was a haven for demons who were into hard-core S&M. I shuddered and tried to block out my memories of my one and only visit there.

Shae was a mercenary, and as far as I could tell, she was willing to do just about anything as long as she was paid enough—though the payments were not necessarily monetary in nature. She was also an illegal demon herself, allowed to remain on the Mortal Plain only because she served as Adam’s snitch.

I had bargained with Shae for information once before, and lived to tell about it. In exchange, I’d had to give her some information I’d have preferred to keep to myself, but all in all I felt like the interview had gone well. Perhaps trying a second time would be tempting fate, but I wasn’t just going to sit around on my ass and wait for either the police or Psycho Demon to find me. The question then became, would I be able to shake my demon bodyguards?

I spent too much time pondering the question as I slurped up greasy lo mein noodles. If my brain had been firing on all cylinders, I would have Tasered Raphael and made my escape while I still had only one demon to get through, but as it was, Saul returned to the house before I’d come up with the idea.

Raphael and I were both eating standing up, leaning against the kitchen counter. Raphael put down his carton of fried rice and laughed when Saul came in the front door.

“What’s so funny?” I asked, frowning.

“Your face,” Raphael said, and laughed again. Even Saul’s lips were twitching.

“What?” I wondered if Raphael would mind me sticking my chopsticks through his eye.

Raphael took a deep breath and contained his mirth, though his eyes still sparkled with it. “Your face is such an open book. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

I was beginning to suspect what had so amused Raphael and Saul, but damned if I was going to admit anything, so I just scowled and shoved a heap of lo mein into my mouth.

“It wouldn’t have worked anyway,” Raphael said. “The only reason Saul wasn’t in the house when you woke up was that he was taking a break from my company. If you’d set foot outside the house without me, he’d have herded you back in.”

I turned my scowl toward Saul, though I’d stuffed too much greasy lo mein into my mouth to tell him what I thought of him. He shrugged.

“You Tasered me yesterday,” he reminded me. “If you think you’re going to get away with the same trick twice, you’re delusional.”

I swallowed my mouthful of noodles and resisted the urge to throw the carton at Saul. Not trusting my impulse control, I decided I was best off putting the carton down.

“So you guys are going to keep me prisoner here?” I asked, crossing my arms over my chest, and, I’m sure, looking pretty damn belligerent.

“It would be safest for you to stay inside and out of sight,” Raphael said. “No one is going to figure out you’re taking refuge here, of all places.”

That was true. As far as the outside world was concerned, I was right now hanging out at the house of Tommy Brewster, a legal, registered demon host whom I hardly knew. The police wouldn’t find me here, and neither would Psycho Demon. Of course, I wouldn’t be able to do jack shit to clear my name or identify my enemy while living under house arrest, either.

A little help, Lugh? I thought at him, though I already knew he wasn’t going to be on my side in this battle.

I’m always on your side, his voice chided gently in my mind. But you’ve got nowhere to go right now. I agree that talking to Shae may yield some results, but the club won’t open until nine tonight.

So you’d actually let me go? I asked, somewhat incredulously.

Not by yourself, of course. But you can take Saul and Raphael with you.

I bristled at the idea. I can take care of myself! If I get caught by the police, the last thing any of us needs is for Saul or Raphael to interfere. And if I run into Psycho Demon, I can let you take control.

I could almost see him in my mind, his face taking on that familiar, patient expression as he explained the facts of life to me. Remember, we’re trying not to kill the host. I’m not at all sure I’d be able to restrain him without killing him all by myself. That’s why we sent two demons after David Keller.

“I gather from that distracted look on your face that you’re having a conversation with my brother,” Raphael said.

I blinked, momentarily disoriented. I’d gotten so absorbed in my mental discussion that I’d almost forgotten about the outside world. Something about that creeped me out—it was like I’d checked out of reality for a minute or two. I shook my head to clear it.

“Yeah,” I said. “We’ve got a plan for tonight.” I explained what I had in mind.

Saul and Raphael both listened without interruption, but I could see suspicion in both their expressions.

“What?” I finally asked, throwing my hands up in disgust, hating the way they were looking at me.

“Are you sure Lugh is okay with this?” Raphael asked in a voice steeped with skepticism.

I swear I could feel my blood pressure rising. I had to fight a mighty battle not to say something about how I didn’t need Lugh’s permission, because, in a way, I did. I took a couple of slow, calming breaths before I answered.

“Yes, I’m sure. You’ve said it yourself many times: I’m a shitty liar. So decide for yourself: Am I lying?”

Raphael accepted that argument with a reluctant shake of his head, but Saul still looked doubtful. He didn’t know me well enough to understand how badly I sucked at lying, and the fact that Raphael was now taking my word for it probably was more of a hindrance than a help, considering their relationship. I was trying to figure out how to convince Saul, when suddenly I wasn’t in control of my body anymore.

Lugh reached out and grabbed Raphael around the throat, then lifted him off the ground with one hand. Raphael’s eyes bugged, but he didn’t struggle.

“Morgan has my seal of approval,” Lugh said, then lowered Raphael to the floor and flowed back into the background where he belonged.

As soon as Lugh ceded control back to me, a headache slammed behind my eyes and my stomach gave a lurch. I considered dashing to the sink to hurl, but I thought maybe I could keep the nausea in check.

“Are you all right?” Raphael asked as he rubbed his throat. There was no mark there, and I doubted Lugh had actually hurt him, though I supposed it had been a disconcerting experience.

“Yeah,” I said, closing my eyes and trying to steady myself. “Apparently, I can’t even let Lugh in for a few seconds anymore without suffering the consequences.”

Sorry about that, Lugh said. Saul wasn’t going to believe you unless I told him it was okay, and I had to prove it was really me talking.

Raphael was giving me a curious look. “How much has he been in control lately?”

“Not enough that I expected to get sick,” I muttered. We knew my body seemed to object to repeated control changes, but we hadn’t exactly determined how much was too much. Still, there’d been times when he’d been in control much longer and we’d exchanged more often without my suffering ill effects. “Maybe I react more strongly when he takes control without asking first.” Or maybe the idea that he now seemed able to do so at will was belatedly triggering my mental alarms and making me sick.

My stomach heaved, and I just barely managed to keep my lo mein from making a return appearance.

“I think I’d better go lie down,” I said, and neither Saul nor Raphael argued.

I’d felt about a thousand times worse the last time I’d had such an adverse reaction to the control changes, but I found that wasn’t comforting at all right now as I lay on my bed with a pillow over my face, my head throbbing in time to my pulse. I thought about taking some aspirin, but Lugh didn’t think it would help, since he couldn’t figure out exactly what was causing the reaction. Besides, it wasn’t like Raphael would have aspirin sitting around the house. Demons don’t get headaches or colds or any of the other annoying physical ailments that plague mankind.