The Devil You Know

CHAPTER 24

Cooper was conscious and sentient when we left him. Traumatized, angry, scared, but other than that he was okay. I know Adam expected me to light into him the moment we got into his car to drive back to my apartment, but I didn’t. We drove for perhaps fifteen minutes in total silence before he looked at me out of the corner of his eye and asked, “Aren’t you planning to tell me what you think of me?”

I let out a heavy sigh, hoping in vain that it would release some of the tension from my body. “Ordinarily, I would. But you know what they say about people in glass houses.”

Once upon a time, I might have felt that Adam’s premeditated murder of Valerie was somehow worse than if it had been spur of the moment. But hadn’t I just gone to Cooper’s house prepared to let Adam kill him if necessary? What had I become? I shuddered, wondering if I really wanted to know.

“At least we got what we needed to know out of Cooper without having to hurt him,” Adam commented.

It was a cold comfort, but it would have to do. “You got what we needed to know. Care to share your knowledge with the little people?”

He grunted in what may have been amusement—of course, it could have been gas for all I knew. He was silent for so long I was afraid he wasn’t going to answer. Maybe he’d decided he didn’t dare speak without Lugh’s permission. But this was my heritage we were talking about. I had a right to know.

Apparently, Adam agreed.

“Dougal’s been attempting to create a better host.”

“Create?” I asked in astonishment.

Adam nodded. “We’ve understood about genes and heredity ever since the first demons walked the Mortal Plain. It’s always been against our laws to muck with it, but apparently Dougal doesn’t give a crap. He started centuries ago, abducting pregnant women and having demons possess their unborn children. They used the same skills we generally use to help us heal to manipulate the fetuses’ genes.”

Pain stabbed through my head, and I realized it was Lugh letting me know what he thought of Dougal’s pet project. I don’t think he did it intentionally, and he let up almost immediately.

“What, exactly, was he hoping to accomplish? And where does Raphael fit in?”

“Dougal hasn’t set foot in the Mortal Plain since his project began. He’s been running it through Raphael. As for what they’ve been trying to accomplish…They were trying to create a more powerful host. Stronger, faster, harder to hurt, longer lived—and easier to control.”

“Easier!” I cried. “You guys have total control of our bodies when you possess us! What could possibly be easier?”

Even in the intermittent flashes of light from the streetlamps, I could see the grimness of Adam’s expression. “It would be easier if the host didn’t have the intelligence to object.”

I think I might have turned green.

“To demons like Raphael,” Adam continued, “having a native personality in his host is something of an inconvenience. To demons like me, part of the appeal of walking the Mortal Plain is the interaction with our hosts. If Adam were merely an empty vessel for me to fill, I’m not sure I would have chosen to return to the Mortal Plain after my first stint. I enjoy the pleasures of the flesh, to be sure. But it wouldn’t be the same without Adam.”

“So let me get this straight. Dougal and Raphael are hoping to create a race of superhuman vegetables?”

“That’s it in a nutshell.”

“And my father was one of their experimental rats?”

Adam nodded. “Apparently, there’s much more to The Healing Circle than we know. Underneath the hospital, they have extensive labs—and holding cells. They bred various…strains, trying to isolate the traits they found most desirable. Your father’s strain was bred specifically for increased healing capacity, and, they hoped, longer life span.

“When that ‘batch’—and I’m using Cooper’s word—reached maturity, it was time to summon demons for them. Can you guess what happened?”

I thought about it a moment, then nodded. “They found this batch were resistant to demonic possession.”

“Not just resistant—impervious. Raphael himself tried to take one, just to see if it could be done. They still felt the batch was a step in the right direction, and if they could breed them with other strains, they could take another step closer to their ideal. Then they discovered that the batch was extremely hard to breed. They tried them with various other strains, and even with normal human beings, and weren’t able to get any viable offspring. So Raphael decided they’d hit a dead end with that strain, and ordered them all destroyed.”

Pain stabbed through my head so hard I gasped. It didn’t let up as fast as it had last time, either.

“You all right?” Adam asked.

I pinched the bridge of my nose, though that didn’t bring me any relief. “Calm down, Lugh!” I said. “Please!” The pain subsided, and I blew out a breath of relief. “Go on,” I said to Adam.

“You pretty much know the rest. Your father escaped the purge. When Raphael found out your mother was pregnant, he thought to take advantage of what he considered a lucky break. Obviously, things didn’t exactly pan out like he wanted.”

I was doing my best to absorb everything Adam had told me, but it wasn’t what you’d call easy. I mean, holy crap! I could chew on that for a week and not have it fully digested.

“And the Spirit Society is in on all this,” I said, because there was no other way Cooper could have known so much.

“Hard to believe, huh?”

I leaned my head back against the headrest and closed my eyes. “Not really. They’re fanatics. If their damned ‘Higher Powers’ want their help creating superhuman vegetables, they’ll do it. Do you know what happened to my biological father?”

Adam shook his head. “Cooper had no idea. He was never found. And the reason Cooper was so terrified of Raphael is he saw what Raphael did to the director of the lab after your father escaped. Let’s just say he made me look like a soft touch.”

“Spare me the details,” I said, and was glad Adam listened to me for once.

The rest of the car ride passed in silence. I’d like to say I was thinking deep thoughts about the nature of fanaticism and the sanctity of human life, but really I was just brooding—having one of those “why me” moments. I figured I was entitled. Of course, if I wasn’t careful, the “why me” moment would turn into a “why me” week and then a “why me” month.

When he pulled up in front of my apartment building, Adam turned to me awkwardly. “Er, would you like me to come up? Do you need someone to talk to?”

The last thing I’d expected was a nice gesture from Adam. Strangely, his unaccustomed niceness brought a lump to my throat. I forced a smile, when usually I would have offered a snarky comment instead. “Thanks, but I think I need some time to myself just now.”

He nodded his understanding, and I got out of the car. I had to fight the urge to watch longingly as he pulled away.

I thought I’d had my share of strife and trauma for the day. I should have known better.

I’d been so distracted by the idea of questioning Cooper—and about how that questioning would go down—that I’d somehow miraculously managed to forget about Brian. While I was riding the elevator up to my apartment, I remembered I was supposed to have a conversation with him. Internally, I groaned. He was going to be pissed at me for waiting this long to call him. Not that he wasn’t pissed enough already, what with me having made him an accessory to murder and all. If there were a chance in hell I could have avoided our little chat, you can bet I would have. As it was, I spent the entire elevator ride chewing my lip, trying to anticipate what questions he was going to ask me. How would I answer them all? Did I dare give him complete honesty? Impossible to say, especially when I couldn’t seem to figure out what I wanted from him just now.

Lost in thought, I opened the door to my apartment and stepped in. I tossed my keys on a side table and turned toward the coat closet to stash the Taser I’d been carrying in my purse all day.

That’s when I noticed that the lights were on. I knew for a fact that I’d turned them off before I’d left. I reached for my Taser with a very different purpose, turning to face the living room.

It says something about how distracted I’d been that I hadn’t noticed Brian sitting there on my living room sofa as soon as I’d walked in the door. A little yelp escaped me when I saw him, and I put my hand to my chest to feel the frantic hammering of my heart.

“Jesus, you scared me,” I said, taking a deep breath to try to calm myself. And belatedly letting go of the Taser.

Brian leaned back into the cushions of the sofa and regarded me with an inscrutable lawyer look.

“How did you get in here?” I asked, still flustered beyond belief.

He shook his head at me, his usually warm eyes cold. “I kept waiting for you to call, and you didn’t. I got tired of waiting, so I came over. Andrew was here moving his stuff out, and he kindly let me in to wait for you.”

I would owe Andy a good kick in the ass for that. But thinking about giving my big brother hell wasn’t my top priority at the moment. Letting out a silent—I hoped—sigh, I dropped my purse on the dining room table and sat on the other end of the sofa from Brian.

“I’m sorry,” I told him, and I meant it. “My life is complete and utter chaos these days, and I can only handle one or two problems at a time. I was planning to call you as soon as I got home.”

“Uh-huh.” His voice dripped with skepticism.

“I was!” I insisted. No need to mention that I hadn’t come up with that plan until the elevator ride up. He didn’t look any less skeptical, and I guess I didn’t blame him. I scrubbed a hand through my hair and wished with all my heart that Raphael had chosen some other human/superhost hybrid to host his brother the king. My life hadn’t exactly been sugar and spice and everything nice beforehand, but I would happily trade the problems I had now for the ones I’d had then.

“What do you want from me?” I said, and I was almost whispering. “I’m possessed by the king of the demons, and there are all kinds of people out there who want to kill me. My love life can’t be my first priority.”

He snorted. “Like it ever was,” he muttered. “But this isn’t about your love life. This is about you owing me a lot of answers.”

Brian was far too self-aware to be fooling himself that much, but if he wanted to focus on something other than our mixed-up relationship, that was okay with me.

“Fine,” I said. “Ask me your questions.”

So he did. And I answered him, as honestly as I dared.

The cross-examination went on for about half an hour, and Brian was in full lawyer mode, meaning he revealed as little as possible about what he was feeling. As for myself, I was too worn out to feel much of anything.

When he ran out of questions, we both fell silent, lost in our own thoughts. I felt the rift that had opened between us like a physical pain, and I realized with a shock that my reasons for pushing him away might not have been as selfless as I’d told myself. Had I pushed him away for his own good? Or had it been because it was easier on me to push him away on my own terms than to have him leave me? As I watched him mull over everything I’d said, I couldn’t be sure, and something ached deep inside me.

“Do you still love me?” he asked out of the blue, and I almost jumped because he’d been silent so long.

The ache rose from my core and lodged in my throat. I clasped my hands in my lap and stared at them, because I couldn’t bear to meet his eyes. If I wanted to keep protecting him—and protecting my own heart—I should tell him no. He probably wouldn’t believe me—after all, he hadn’t believed me up until now, and I saw no reason why anything I’d said would change that. But the words might shore up the fortress I’d built around my heart.

I tried to force myself to deny him. But I couldn’t.

“I never stopped loving you,” I said softly, still staring at my clasped hands. “I wanted to, but I couldn’t.” My eyes burned as though I were on the verge of tears, but I blinked rapidly until the burn faded. “Love doesn’t conquer all. There are just too many obstacles.” He started to object, but I held up my hand for silence. “I’ve had some truly miserable moments in my life,” I said, “but there’s nothing that compares to what I felt when Raphael kidnapped you.” I forced myself to look at him, making no attempt to hide my anguish. “Don’t you understand that it’s impossible for me to consider facing something like that again?”

To my dismay, he moved closer to me. If I could have moved away without falling over the arm of the couch, I would have done so. When I tried to turn my head to avoid his gaze, he put his hand on my face to hold me still. My whole body jolted in shock at the pleasure of that simple touch.

“Stop lying to yourself, Morgan,” he chided gently. “I know that was awful for you—it wasn’t exactly a bowl of cherries for me, either—but you were pushing me away long before that. I’ve managed to keep loving you anyway, even when you’re being a horse’s ass. What are you so afraid of?”

The easy answer, the answer I’d been giving myself ever since I realized my heart was in danger, was that I was a corrupting influence on him, that being with me was souring and changing him, destroying the man I once loved. But I knew now that wasn’t the truth. The truth was I was afraid that one day he’d wise up and realize what a pathetic specimen of humanity I was. My self-esteem wasn’t so hot to begin with. If I openly gave my heart to Brian, and he shoved it back in my face, I didn’t think I could bear it.

There was no way in hell I was telling him that, though. So instead, in my typical emotional cowardice, I changed the subject. “Are you going to call the cops on us?”

He laughed, but there was no humor in the sound. “I must be insane to keep banging my head against this wall,” he muttered, and I winced. “You are far more trouble than you’re worth.”

I was still reeling from the pain of those words when he grabbed me, hauled me up against his body, and kissed me. My resistance to that kiss lasted perhaps a total of ten seconds. When I gave in to it, I gave in with all my heart, wrapping my arms around his neck and clinging for all I was worth.

In the weeks I’d been without his kiss, I’d almost forgotten how good he tasted. Now I was forcefully reminded, and my senses reeled. When his tongue dipped into my mouth, I let out an uninhibited moan of pleasure. His hand cupped the side of my face, and the warmth of that touch melted some of the ice that had formed around my heart.

I never wanted him to stop. While his lips were on mine, my mind went on vacation. Instead of thinking all the time, I merely felt.

Unfortunately, Brian still had more to say to me, so he broke the kiss long before I was ready. I made an incoherent sound of protest and tried to capture his lips again, but he put his hands on my shoulders to hold me off. He was breathing hard, and his eyes were dark with desire, but somehow he found the willpower to stop.

“I love you, Morgan,” he said as he stared intently into my eyes. “I think you’re worth fighting for. But eventually, you’ll have to start trying, too. I can’t keep this up forever.”

My heart constricted, but I knew he was right. I reached out and brushed the back of my hand over his cheek. “Believe it or not, I am trying. But we both know how screwed up I am. I was a mess even before I found myself a key player in a demon civil war. I don’t know if I’m capable of having anything resembling a normal relationship.”

He shook his head. “That’s a cop-out. Lots of people have fucked-up family lives and still manage to have solid relationships.”

I wasn’t so sure I agreed with that. It seemed to me that those so-called solid relationships were probably illusions. But I didn’t think I’d get Brian to agree with me, so I kept that opinion to myself.

“All I can do is my best,” I said, “I know it’s inadequate on a lot of levels, but—”

Once again, he interrupted me with a kiss. If he had to interrupt me, this was definitely my preferred method. It didn’t solve any of the issues between us, but it felt so damn good! Knowing I was probably making my life even more complicated, I nonetheless abandoned myself to his kiss, to the taste and smell and feel of him. Fire burned through my veins, and my heart hammered in my chest as I straddled him on the couch. With a moan, he shifted so I could feel his erection pressing firmly between my legs.

My hands moved with a will of their own, plucking open the buttons on his shirt. The tape on my fingers made me clumsy, and I lost patience with it. Still kissing him as if my life depended on it, I scraped at the tape with my fingernails until I found the edge, then ripped it off and tossed it aside.

My fingers now free, I hurried to open the last few buttons on Brian’s shirt, then smoothed my hands over the skin of his chest. He had very little hair on his chest, and what there was felt smooth and silky under my caress. When I found his nipples and tweaked them, he moaned and jerked beneath me. He pushed my shirt and bra up until my breasts were bared, not bothering to unbutton or unclasp anything. I pinched his nipples again, and he surged forward, seizing one of my nipples between his clever lips.

It was my turn to moan, and my back arched without my conscious volition. His tongue rasped over the hardened bud, and he sucked just hard enough to be almost painful. Then he fastened his hands under my butt, pressing me against him as he rose to his feet. I wrapped my legs around him, clinging to his neck as he carried me to the bedroom.

He set me on my feet by the bed, then attacked my button-fly jeans. I took advantage of his moment of distraction to pull the shirt off over my head and lose the bra. I pushed his hands away before he’d finished with the buttons, but his cry of protest died when I slid his shirt off his shoulders. I reached for his belt as he tackled the remaining buttons on my jeans.

The fragment of my mind that still held a hint of intelligence noticed that Brian’s belt held both a cell phone and another cell-phone-sized accessory. One that I’d have to ask him about—since I recognized it as a mini stun gun—but not until later. We had better things to do with our mouths right now than talk.

Brian toed off his shoes as I shoved his pants and briefs down his legs. I meant to go down on my knees and take him in my mouth, but apparently Brian was impatient to get to the main event. He pushed me onto the bed, dragging my jeans and panties down, then cursing when everything got tangled around my sneakers. He cursed some more as he pried the sneakers off and successfully freed my legs from the bundle of clothing.

Brian was usually a slow and gentle lover, loving the foreplay and the buildup as much or even more than the climax itself. Tonight, he was too desperate, too needy. But then, so was I. He fell on top of me, using his knee to shove my legs apart. We hadn’t even managed to get all the way onto the bed, my legs dangling over the edge as he thrust home in one powerful, almost angry stroke. I wrapped my legs around him and tried to pull his head down for a kiss, but he pinned my wrists to the bed beside my head.

It was on the tip of my tongue to protest this sudden show of dominance. I wanted to touch him, wanted to feel the quivering of his muscles and the frantic beat of his pulse as he took me. And yet, once he started to move, the protest turned into a protracted groan of pleasure.

He thrust into me with such force I felt the bed moving beneath us. Sweat beaded his face, and his breath came in loud gasps. His hands squeezed my wrists brutally, holding me still so he could pound into me as hard as he wanted. My fingers curled into fists, nails biting into my palms, as I tried to control the flood of sensation that threatened to overwhelm me.

I didn’t want to like this. Brian was being so rough with me I’d be bruised and sore when this was over. Probably what he was doing should be hurting me even now, but endorphins or adrenaline or just plain desperation had me feeling no pain. The pressure on my wrists, the sensation of being pinned down, should have angered me. There was no give-and-take to this lovemaking. And yet my body sang with the pleasure of it, my back arching, my heels digging into his ass, my mouth open on a silent scream.

Then the climax hit me, and the scream was no longer silent. The sound that escaped me was raw, and urgent, and so loud they might have heard me in the next building. My cry triggered Brian’s release, and he pounded into me even harder, if that was possible.

When it was over, he went limp on top of me, his hands releasing their death grip on my wrists as his forehead dropped to touch mine. We were both gasping for breath, both drenched in sweat. I barely had the strength for it, but I wrapped my arms around him and held him to me, my hands stroking the sweat-slicked skin of his back.

As the sweat cooled, I became aware of a burning sensation between my legs and a fierce ache in both my wrists. Apparently, the adrenaline had worn off, but despite the discomfort, I couldn’t regret what we’d done. Brian might not have been the sweet, sensitive lover I’d come to expect, but he was still the man I loved.

Still panting, he slipped out of me, then slid his arms under me and scooted me all the way onto the bed, climbing on after me and wrapping me in his arms. Our legs twined, and he tucked my head under his chin, my ear pressed against his chest so I could hear the pounding of his heart.

We didn’t speak, instead lying quietly in each other’s arms as we caught our breath. I closed my eyes and inhaled the musky, familiar scent of him, the scent I’d missed so desperately in the days since I’d turned him away. And I knew I was lost.

It didn’t matter what danger being with me put Brian in, and it didn’t matter that I was handing him the power to crush my heart. I couldn’t keep pushing him away. I needed him too badly, needed to be with the man who loved me just the way I was, even if I wasn’t sure that love could stand the test of time.

I raised my head to say something appropriately mushy, but before I opened my mouth, the phone rang. Brian and I grimaced at the same time.

“They can leave a message,” he said, stroking my still-sweaty cheek with one hand.

I was severely tempted to ignore the goddamn phone. There was so much I still had to say to Brian, and I had to say it now or I might chicken out. But as Lugh had pointed out on more than one occasion, there was much more at stake here than my own life and happiness. I sat up with an unhappy moan, wincing slightly at the soreness between my legs. “With all the drama surrounding my life, I have to at least see who it is.”

I felt his eyes on me as I reached for the phone and checked the caller ID. It was the front desk, which usually meant a visitor or a package. It was too late for a package.

I picked up the phone, then practically dropped it when Mr. Watkins, the front desk clerk, told me my father wanted to come up. My brain did a few jumping jacks as I tried to figure out (1) what the likelihood was that this was really my father, and (2) what the hell he could want to see me about if it was.

Mr. Watkins waited patiently while I thought about it for what felt like five minutes.

“Ms. Kingsley?” he finally prompted when my hesitation lasted too long.

If my father really had come out of hiding to talk to me, then I supposed I had no choice but to see him. Maybe the Spirit Society had sent him on Dougal’s behalf to try to pry information out of me. Then again, maybe Cooper had called and told him what I now knew about my past, and my father had come to try to make amends. Hey, it made a nice fantasy! “Send him up.”

Brian looked at me reprovingly as I slipped out of bed.

I gave him an apologetic smile as I pulled my jeans back on. “It’s my father. I have to talk to him.” There was so much I needed to say, but the thought of beating the crap out of him for what he’d allowed the Society to do to me was more tempting than I wanted to admit. “I’ll try to make it quick.” I dragged my shirt on over my head, not bothering with the bra. “Wait for me,” I said, then bent to give Brian a quick kiss.

But he got up and reached for his clothes. “I’ll wait,” he assured me before I could protest. “I’m just not going to wait naked in bed with your father in the next room.”

I laughed briefly, until I caught another glimpse of the stun gun clipped to his belt. “When did you get that?” I asked with a jerk of my chin.

“This morning. I was feeling a little skittish after everything that’s happened.”

I frowned. I didn’t like the idea of Brian carrying a weapon. Yeah, I wanted him to have some defense in the event of a demon attack, but it seemed like another step down a path I wished I could keep him from walking. I glanced at the bruises that were forming around my wrists and realized he might already be farther down that path than I liked to admit.

My doorbell rang, and though I wanted to stay here with Brian, to talk to him and to work things out, I knew now was not the time. Leaving him to finish getting dressed, I slipped out into the living room as the bell rang a second time. I hesitated before I answered the door. My father had conspired with the Society and with Lugh’s brothers to have me possessed by a demon against my will. He’d drugged me so he could take me to the hospital, then apparently left me to Cooper and Neely’s mercy without a second thought. Had he known what those bastards had been planning to do to me? Had he condoned them torturing me?

My mind rebelled at the thought. No matter that he wasn’t my biological father, no matter that we’d never gotten along, he had still raised me since I was a baby. My mind couldn’t encompass the idea that he was evil. Yes, he’d tried to give me to the demons, but in his worldview being possessed was a good thing.

The bell rang a third time, but despite my bone-deep conviction that my father wouldn’t harm me, I fished my Taser out of my handbag before answering. I checked through the peephole to be sure it really was my father on the doorstep, then swung the door open. As a concession to our close, personal relationship, I kept the Taser down by my side instead of pointing at him, although it was armed and ready to go.

His face as he stood there regarding me was studiously neutral, even when he saw the Taser. I had to resist the urge to punch him.

“Nice of you to drop by, Pops,” I said. “Give me one good reason I shouldn’t slam the door in your face.”

His expression didn’t change. “You wouldn’t have opened the door in the first place if you didn’t want to talk to me.”

“I want to talk to you about as much as I want to have my tonsils removed without anesthetic.”

“Then by all means slam the door.”

I almost did it. Almost convinced myself I’d had more than my quota of confrontations today. But I knew if I shut him out now, I might never hear from him again. And boy did I have a lot of questions for him!

With a grunt of frustration—I really hate having my bluff called—I flung the door all the way open and stepped back. Dad’s expression finally changed, a hint of triumph sparking in his eyes. He stepped through the doorway then closed the door behind him and turned the dead bolt.

I didn’t feel like offering him a seat, so I stood in front of him in my most aggressive posture, legs shoulder-width apart, head held high, finger on the trigger of my Taser. I probably looked like a bodyguard wannabe, but I didn’t give a damn.

“So where the hell did you and Mom disappear to?” I asked.

He regarded me steadily. “If we’d wanted you to know, we’d have left a forwarding address.”

I blinked at that. I was the smart-ass of the family, and my dad usually stuck to “just the facts.” I supposed he was under a lot of strain these days, though I had to admit he didn’t look particularly stressed out. In fact, if I didn’t know better, I’d think he was enjoying himself.

“I assume Cooper called and told you I remembered what you did to me.”

For half a second, I thought he looked surprised, but that hint of expression was gone before I was sure. “I never did anything to you.”

I waved his protest away. “You let Dr. Neely and Cooper have their way with me. They couldn’t have done it without your permission. Even you can’t deny your role in that.”

He shrugged. “If you expect me to wring my hands in guilt, you’ve got another think coming. I could have insisted your mother abort you. All in all I think I’ve treated you rather decently.”

I curled my lip in disgust. “If that’s the case, you need to look up ‘decently’ in the dictionary. Don’t you feel even a hint of remorse for what you did?”

I’d never been under the impression that my dad harbored any great love for me, but I’d always thought he’d felt at least some parental responsibility. Based on his total lack of remorse, I supposed that wasn’t the case.

He waved off my complaint as if it meant nothing to him. “That’s not what I came here to talk about.”

I was seriously tempted to force the issue, but after he and my mom had made such a production of disappearing, I figured if he’d come out of the woodwork voluntarily, it must have been something really important. So I swallowed my questions and my emotions and let him put me off.

“So what did you come to talk about?”

He gave me a flinty, steely-eyed glare that chilled me to the marrow. “I came to talk about the host you transferred Lugh into. I believe you said his name was Peter Bishop?” The glare was followed by a triumphant smile.

I shook my head, clearing the cobwebs as any number of sickening revelations bloomed in my mind. Der Jäger was the only one who knew the name of the fictitious host who’d taken Lugh from me. He could have told his cohorts about it, but he didn’t exactly strike me as a team player. Raphael had told me Der Jäger was safely imprisoned back in the Demon Realm. I had believed Raphael would never do anything to endanger Lugh.

But the man who’d raised me as his daughter was watching me now with a predatory gleam in his eyes. A gleam that I couldn’t help recognizing as evil. Raphael had lied.

I swallowed hard. “Der Jäger, I presume?”