The Devil's Playground

thirty-one

WE TOOK BARBIE’S CAR. IT WAS JUST ANDY AND ME riding off to the rescue. We had no way to get the handcuffs off Brian or Barbie, and they wouldn’t be much help—and could easily get themselves killed—if they came with us. Plus, we needed them to spill the secrets of the demons’ labs if we didn’t come back. I suppressed a shiver at that thought.

I would have preferred to drive, but Andy insisted that he be the driver. I guess so he could Taser me without me wrecking the car if he changed his mind about trying to save Raphael. His knuckles were white where he gripped the steering wheel, and I could see the muscles of his jaw working as he ground his teeth. I wanted to say something to help persuade him that he was doing the right thing, but I got the impression that talking wasn’t a good idea. For the moment, he was doing what I wanted; I needed to keep it that way.

Raphael had more than a twenty-minute head start on us, but we were driving faster—though not as fast as I would have liked. I found my right foot pressing down on an imaginary accelerator and tried to stop myself. There was only so fast we could go without risking getting stopped for speeding—a delay we could not afford.

The other factor in our favor was that the duel would not begin the moment Raphael arrived. Dougal’s people would have to confirm his identity to the best of their ability first, then they’d have to let Dougal know it was safe to come out from wherever he was. There was sure to be some posturing and speech-making before the combatants actually had at it, and there would be yet another delay as Raphael and Dougal examined each other’s auras. I couldn’t imagine that Dougal would send an imposter, not when he was utterly convinced of what Lugh would do if he didn’t show up, but Raphael would still insist on checking.

None of these reasonable arguments kept my heart from beating double-time, or my palms from sweating. I took a deep breath to try to calm myself, amazed that I felt this … depth of anxiety for Raphael’s sake. Just because I didn’t think he deserved to burn to death didn’t mean I should feel this desperate need to save him.

I thought for a moment that somehow Lugh’s anguish was leaking over into my brain. And that was when I realized where my sense of desperation came from. It wasn’t for Raphael’s sake. It was for Lugh’s. Despite everything Raphael had done, I don’t think Lugh had ever stopped loving him. I suspected that was true of Dougal, too, though I doubted Lugh would admit it. To kill with his own hands the brother who’d betrayed him would hurt Lugh badly enough. To lose both his brothers …

A burning sensation in my eyes told me I was on the verge of tears. Lugh and I had had our differences, but he was kind, and compassionate, and thoughtful, and wise. He didn’t deserve the kind of pain he would suffer if Raphael killed himself.

I swallowed the tears as best I could. “Can you drive a little faster?” I asked Andy, my voice scratchy from fighting the tears.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him glance at me and raise his eyebrows, but I didn’t turn to face him. I didn’t know what expression my face was wearing, but I suspected it was too raw, too open to be one I wanted him to see. I was more grateful than I could say when the needle on the speedometer inched up just a bit.

The miles sped away, but warp speed wouldn’t have felt fast enough to me just then. My fingernails bit into my palms, and I kept flooring my imaginary accelerator whenever I wasn’t concentrating on keeping still.

“Never in a million years would I have guessed Raphael was capable of this,” Andy whispered when we were about halfway there. “I can’t reconcile the Raphael I know with the Raphael who would sacrifice his life to save anyone.”

I swallowed a lump that formed in my throat. “That’s because he really has changed,” I said, just as quietly.

Maybe this is the Raphael that would have been, if I hadn’t been so overbearing and judgmental all his life, Lugh said.

It’s not your fault, I assured him. Raphael was a bastard because he chose to be. You can’t seriously hold yourself responsible for that any more than you can hold yourself responsible for him choosing to be a martyr.

“Maybe being inside your head for all those years was a good influence on him,” I said out loud. “You never got along, but he keeps saying how he understands you, even if he doesn’t like you. Maybe some of your better qualities rubbed off on him.”

Andy gave me a sidelong glance that spoke of skepticism, but Lugh had said that demons were influenced by their hosts, so I didn’t think it was that much of a stretch. Then again, this might have been the first time in Raphael’s life he’d ever had to fight for something. He was used to keeping himself aloof and uninvolved. I think even the eugenics stuff was just a pet project for him, not something he really cared about. Maybe he found that once you start caring, it’s hard to stop.

Was I really so different myself? Before Lugh had come into my life, I’d been a bastion of selfloathing. My parents had thought my unwillingness to become a demon host was a sign that I lacked the courage and decency to want to make the world a better place. They’d hammered into me the idea that I was the lesser of their children, because Andy had been willing to host, and I wasn’t. They’d called me selfish, and though I’d fought them tooth and claw, secretly I’d believed them.

All the things I’d done in the last several months to try to aid Lugh’s cause … If you’d told me before I was possessed that I would one day be ready to risk my life to save someone I didn’t even like, I’d have laughed at you. I’d have felt like a shit for it, but I’d still have laughed.

So maybe people—and demons—were capable of change after all, when they had a good enough reason.

The moment I was able to make out the farm in the distance, I started staring at the sky, praying not to see the glow of a bonfire. No glow, no fire, no dead demons, right? I leaned forward in my seat and didn’t care that I was pressing my foot onto the floorboard like I thought that would make the car go faster. My heart pounded, and though he was quiet, I could swear I felt Lugh’s anxiety as much as my own.

If I’d been driving, I might have floored the accelerator and burst through the gate over the driveway. It would have been a stupid thing to do, guaranteed to attract unwanted attention, but I don’t know that I’d have been able to help myself. I guess that made it a good thing that Andy was driving.

I had my seat belt off before he even started slowing down, and I was out of the car while it was still rolling. My hands shook as I pulled loose the unlocked chain and gave the gates a shove. I had no intention of closing them behind me, and if that meant a passing motorist noticed and called the cops—

well, tough.

I felt like Andy was moving in slow motion as he drove the car through, but he barely slowed down enough to let me jump in before he barreled down the dirt driveway at a pace that probably wasn’t safe. I guess he’d either caught my sense of urgency or he’d decided that now that he was committed to the rescue attempt, he was in it all the way.

There were fewer cars in the gravel parking lot than I’d expected, only three in addition to Adam’s. I didn’t know what that meant, and I didn’t care. Without having to talk about it, I let Lugh surface once more. I would run faster with him in control.

Once again, I leapt out the door before the car had come to a stop. Andy yelled something, but both Lugh and I ignored it. If I’d been in control, I probably would have fallen, considering the car was still going pretty fast when we jumped out, but Lugh was able to keep his balance. Andy yelled again, but Lugh was already running all out.

We rounded the corner of the barn, and that was when we could see the dueling grounds. I didn’t see anyone there I didn’t recognize from the meeting at the food court. The Asian woman had hold of Dom, and the MIB wannabe had Adam, keeping them from interfering, as we’d agreed. The other four of Dougal’s supporters who’d been at the original meeting were fanned out in a defensive position.

A few people turned to look as Lugh came into view, but most of them were staring at Raphael and Dougal, who stood in the center of the basketball court. They were gripping each other’s hands in what looked like a handshake, but of course, that wasn’t what they were doing.

Raphael turned and saw me coming. And everything seemed to slow down, my eyes, with Lugh’s will behind them, taking in every excruciating detail while my legs seemed to drag through knee-deep mud.

Dougal, who’d been looking grim, but not particularly afraid, suddenly gasped. His eyes widened, and I knew that was the moment when he realized he was facing the wrong brother. But if the rest of us couldn’t guess that Raphael would sacrifice himself, then certainly Dougal couldn’t. He hesitated in what had to be shock.

“No!” Lugh screamed with my voice, and inside my head, I screamed with him.

Raphael looked at us, any fear he might have been feeling deeply buried beneath his mask. He smiled at us, faintly. Then, with the hand that wasn’t grasping Dougal’s, he hit himself, hard, in the chest.

Lugh screamed again, and both his supporters and Dougal’s looked startled, confused. I could hear the sound of glass shattering.

Raphael pulled Dougal into what looked almost like a hug, his left arm trapped between their bodies. For a moment, nothing happened. Maybe it was just that time-delay sensation of everything happening too fast to take it in. Lugh was still running for all he was worth. But it was too late.

The fire seemed to come out of nowhere, great licks of flame suddenly shooting out from between Raphael and Dougal’s bodies. Lugh’s screams echoed those of his brothers as their clothes caught fire. Raphael used that first second or so of confusion, when no one but him understood what was happening, to propel both of them toward the pyre that was set up around the basketball goal. They were both screaming—agonized shrieks that would echo in my memories forever. Dougal started struggling to push Raphael away, but he was blinded by flames and too far off balance. The momentum of Raphael’s first push carried them all the way to the pyre, which went up the moment the first flame hit it. It wasn’t quite an explosion, but almost. Lugh was about fifty yards away, and we still felt the enormous blast of heat.

It was hard to see anything through the sudden pillar of fire, but for a moment I thought I caught sight of two shadows, both trying to escape the conflagration. No matter how willing Raphael had been to make this sacrifice, even the iron will of a demon wasn’t enough to counter the primal drive to survive.

Lugh fell to his knees on the concrete, his head bowed as he sobbed. I heard the hiss of fire extinguishers as the observers tried to put the fire out, but they had to know it was hopeless. The flames continued to soar into the air, the fuel making snapping and popping noises, sometimes sounding almost like gunfire.

Lugh retreated into the background of my mind, but I cried as hard as he had, sobbing hoarsely, breathing in deep gulps of scorching air tinged with smoke. I was vaguely conscious of Andy kneeling by my side, taking me into his arms and hugging me. I buried my face against his chest and let my misery and Lugh’s pain pour out.