The Devil's Own Read online

  I turned off the water, opened the shower curtain, and started to reach for my towel. The pressure in the small room suddenly increased, a freezing flash of air running over my wet skin causing painful goosebumps to erupt. My ears popped forcefully, causing me to stumble, and the closed door thudded as Moose launched himself at it, his angry growling audible from his position in the hallway. I wavered on my feet, trying to regain my balance as my head spun. I closed my eyes and forced myself to breathe long and deep, letting the air fill my lungs completely before releasing it. Feeling better, I opened my eyes and yelped when I saw a man peering into the shower at me. Moose’s growling increased and he battered at the door again.

  “Miss Murphy?” the man asked, reaching his hand out to me.

  I backed away as much as I could, but there was little room to move. There was nothing I could use as a weapon. My feet slipped on the wet tile. I had to steady myself with a hand against the wall. I stood as tall as I could, trying to infuse a confidence I didn’t feel into my presence.

  “Who are you?” I asked as calmly as I could. “And WHY are you in my bathroom?”

  “I’m Callum,” he said, as if that simple statement should answer my question. When I shook my head at him, he frowned and pointed at his chest. “Callum. Angus sent me to you.”

  Seeing my confusion, he kept his hands up and open, a posture that told me he wanted to appear like he wasn’t a threat. I knew as well as anyone that it was easy to look like you weren’t much of a threat, even if that wasn’t the case at all.

  “That’s it? You show up in my house uninvited and I’m just supposed to believe that Angus sent you?”

  The man looked directly at me, his gaze intent. His voice solemn and reverent, he said, “He wanted me to remind you, there once was a woman who unmade the Devil and their daughter played with her toys on the floors of Hell.”

  I stared at him, shock running through me. Angus had never felt the need to use that phrase. Our agreement was that if anyone came to me using that code, it was because Angus felt I was in danger and he was sending protection.

  It also explained the disorientation that Callum’s appearance in my bathroom had caused. My father could enter through the wards I had set up to protect the house, but if he wasn’t actually coming through, it would have taken significantly more energy to shove an unrelated person into the gap successfully. Add to that any urgency or worry he’d been feeling at that time, and it explained why the disturbance had knocked me off balance. It must have required a lot of power. It had also gotten my dog’s attention, as he tried to knock the door down again.

  “It’s okay, Moose. I’m fine—nothing’s going to hurt me right now. Calm down,” I said loudly in what I thought might be a soothing voice, hoping he’d hear me above his snarls.

  I turned my attention back to the tall man standing in front of me. “I’m sorry. You have me at a bit of a disadvantage right now. Maybe we should discuss this in a few minutes. Downstairs.” I tried to make my hint as obvious as possible. Standing in my shower naked and dripping wet was no way to start a conversation with someone my father was dumping on me.

  “A disadvantage?” Callum asked, his brow creasing in what I could only interpret as confusion. “I’m sorry, but I’m afraid I don’t understand what you mean.”

  “Well, you see, I’m like this,” I fumbled, gesturing vaguely at my nakedness, “and you’re not.”

  “Oh yes. Fair enough.” He smiled and there was a flash of light between us. When my vision cleared, his clothes had disappeared. I also couldn’t help but notice that he’d magicked himself wet, water beading up on his skin. His long elegant fingers traced the outline of his body, emphasizing the changes he’d made at my request. “And now we’re the same.”

  The same? By no stretch of anyone’s imagination could we be described as the same. He stood there, a relaxed casual stance. His hair curled wetly around his ears and drops of water ran slowly down his shoulders and chest, carving a trail toward strong legs and—I forced myself to stop at the etched hollow of his hips. I chose to forgo modesty, using my shaking hands to cover my eyes instead of other parts of me. “Uh, that doesn’t really help. I think we need to talk while we’re both wearing clothes. Yeah, um, okay. Please put your clothes back on and go downstairs. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

  His response surprised me. “Your wish is my command.” I couldn’t see his face, but I could hear the grin in his words, the sound of mischief in his voice.

  I waited with my hands over my eyes until I heard the door open and close. When I believed it was finally safe, I relaxed, peeking through my fingers to confirm I was alone. My bath towel was hanging in midair in front of me, easily within reach. I grabbed for it and wrapped it around me to stop the shivers that were taking over. There was no way I could mistake the laughter I could clearly hear outside the door as my unexpected guest left me alone to get dressed.

  Chapter Eight

  My living room seemed very small as I walked in. It felt like Callum took up a lot of space, even though he was just sitting on the couch, watching my dog watch him. Except it wasn’t my dog. Instead of a largish Yorkie, there was a black horse of a canine with visible fangs crouched on the floor, his eyes never leaving my unexpected guest. Said guest had at least started the fireplace, so I tried to appreciate that act of consideration. I also noticed he didn’t have his feet on my coffee table. When it feels like nothing is going quite how you want, always try to find something positive to focus on. Heat and feet on the floor were about all I had to work with. I’d make do.

  “So,” I said, sitting in my favorite chair across from him, uniquely positioned to allow me to see both the man and the midnight black dog on my floor. “Who exactly are you and what have you done with my dog?”

  He cleared his throat, almost sounding nervous. “Again, my name is Callum, but you are welcome to call me Cal. Your father felt you might want someone to keep an eye on things, make sure you had back up if something went wrong. He thought I was a good choice.”

  “Let’s be clear, Cal.” I emphasized his name more sarcastically than I probably needed to. “I don’t need your help. You can go. Free and clear, thanks for checking in.” I stood up to emphasize that this was the end of the conversation, but the infuriating man stayed where he was.

  He shook his head, a concerned look on his face. “Your father disagrees, and as we’re both under his rule, I think you can understand that neither of us really has a choice in this matter. I’m afraid you’re stuck with me, whether you want to be or not.”

  Rage swarmed up from my belly. I maintained my control, but my voice was tight, the words I spat out at him dangerously low. “Let’s be very clear. I am not under anyone’s rule. This is my life. Anyone who thinks otherwise is not welcome here.” This was my life. Mine. I’d built it up from wreckage. I’d made this home, in spite of my father’s legacy.

  Callum lifted his hands in what I guessed was meant to be a placating gesture. “I’m sorry. But while you may be free to make your own decisions, ultimately, I am not. I am bound to your father, and therefore, I have very little choice but to follow his instructions, which, at this time, is to move myself into your spare bedroom, watch over you, and keep you safe.”

  I sat back down, my legs refusing to hold me up as realization hit. This was the deal I’d made last night. Angus was really doing this to me. There was no way out. Not for Callum. And certainly not for me. The words tasted bitter as they left my mouth. “Fine. If that’s the way it has to be. For now.” I glared at him, folding my shaking hands and hiding them in my lap.

  Callum stood up and walked toward me, each step careful as he crossed the distance between us. He knelt down when he was just out of my reach and looked directly in my eyes. “Your father loves you very much. He’s willing to suffer through your anger if it means you’ll be safe. I’m not a bad guy and I promise I’ll try very hard not to make you feel uncomfortable. But unti
l your father says otherwise, there’s really nowhere else I can go.”

  I understood the truth of what he was saying. Because of his connection to Angus, he really was stuck with me. The poor guy had no choice but to remain by my side, until my father said otherwise. I could choose to make us both miserable during that time or find a way we could manage to live with it.

  “Okay,” I said as agreeably as I could manage. “Then the least you can do is tell me what you did to my dog. And why this thing is here with you.” I pointed at the enormous black shadow that was slinking away to the dog bed by the fireplace and snapped my fingers. “Hey, that’s not for you!”

  Cal’s hand on my arm stopped me. “I’m sorry, Miss Delaney. I thought you knew you had a Hound living here with you.”

  “A Hound?” I asked, confused. “I don’t have a Hound. I have a Yorkie.” I waved my hand at the enormous canine draped across a bed that was ridiculously small. His legs stuck out awkwardly. But his eyes watched me a little sadly and he rested his head on his front paws, ears down, dejected.

  “Yes, a Hell Hound. He picked an appearance he thought you’d like at first, but he can change shape and size as needed. He’s quite communicative. Also, he doesn’t mind that your father sent him here. He appreciates the way you’ve made him comfortable. And he likes the name you’ve given him very much.”

  I gaped at him as I processed the information. Finally, something clicked. “You can talk to him?”

  Cal shrugged. “I’ve been around Hounds a lot. One learns how to listen.”

  I looked over at Moose, not sure what I could or should do in this moment. He raised his head and blinked at me, then laid back down as if there was nothing really to say.

  “Is there anything else I should know about? Anything else my dog has said to you?” I asked, making no effort to hide my caustic tone.

  Which Cal chose to ignore.

  “Oh yes. Your Hound and I have come to an agreement, you could say. I have promised not to hurt you and he has promised not to eat me.”

  I rested my head in my hands for a moment while I absorbed this information. A conspiracy. Even the damn dog was in on it. When Daddy Dearest decided to invade my life, he did it in every way he could possibly think of.

  This was all enough for one night. I stressed the point that we were done by standing up to lead the way out of the room. “I’ll show you where you will be sleeping. Do you have anything that you need to get? Extra clothes maybe?”

  He shook his head and followed me up the stairs. “I can do that tomorrow. I’ll be fine for tonight. We can both get some sleep and talk more about this arrangement in the morning.”

  “But don’t you need something to sleep in?” I asked as I opened the door to the spare bedroom and pulled clean sheets out of the top dresser drawer.

  He stepped forward and took the linens from me. “No,” he said, bending over the bed and stretching the fitted sheet over the mattress. “I prefer to sleep with nothing on.” He glanced back at me, a wicked grin on his face.

  I bit my tongue as I rushed out of the room, tasting blood as I slammed the door on his accompanying laughter.

  Chapter Nine

  When I woke the next morning, it was to the sounds of someone downstairs in my kitchen. I could hear pans rattling, a man’s voice carrying up the stairs, and the occasional bark of my dog. Everything from the night before hit me again.

  I pulled the pillow over my head and tried to wish it all away. It didn’t work. I needed to face the day and the problem before me. I pulled on what were possibly a clean pair of sweatpants and T-shirt, finger combed my hair, and stepped into my bathroom to brush my teeth. The woman I saw in the mirror looked tired, the shadows under her green eyes emphasized by the paleness of her skin. “You can do this,” I told her. “You can manage one man living in your house. Hells, you’ve killed a demon on your own. You can handle this.”

  Pep talk done, I clenched my teeth and headed downstairs. To the man waiting for me.

  “Good morning,” Callum said as I walked into the kitchen. I held my hand up in front of me, shading my eyes from the bright light streaming through the windows. “I thought it might be helpful if I made breakfast for us this morning. We’ll probably need the energy as we hash out this arrangement.” He sounded so certain and pleasant. The smell of coffee hung on the air and I savored it. It was one of my favorite scents even though I thought the beverage itself tasted like someone poured a disgusting mix of water and dirt into a cup.

  “I’m not much of a morning person,” I said in response, grabbing what I needed to make my daily dose of tea. “I don’t usually eat breakfast and I don’t drink coffee.” Callum’s smile faded at my words and I realized he’d likely been working on this for a while. “But, everything smells delicious,” I added. This seemed to brighten his expression some, so I continued on as cheerfully as I could manage. “And you’re probably right. We’ve got a lot to get through today and we’ll need energy to do that.”

  Callum seemed to sense that my mood wasn’t inclined toward conversation. He finished making breakfast quietly, finding plates and filling them with scrambled eggs and bacon. Toast popped up and filled the air with its warm scent. When I felt more in control of my emotions, I turned toward the table, grabbing napkins along the way. I sat down across from Cal and we both began to dig in, eating silently for a few minutes.

  I was the first to break. “I don’t mean to take my anger out on you. I know you don’t have any choice in this mess, but I’m not used to having to share this space with anyone. I’ve always been independent. It’s hard to hear that my father doesn’t have faith in me.”

  Callum sipped at his coffee, his eyes focused on me as I spoke. As I finished, he said, “It’s not that he doesn’t have faith in you. He worries about you—constantly.” He paused, like he was searching for the right words, before continuing. “He knows you have this need to make the world better. He thinks you’re convinced the only way you can do that is if you take on all the evil you find and destroy it. That makes him afraid you’ll put yourself in harm’s way. That you’ll sacrifice yourself if you have to.”

  I couldn’t argue with that. “Anything else you know about me?”

  He stared at his plate, quiet for a moment. “I know you live out here alone, because you’re afraid that if anyone gets too close to you, they could be hurt. From what Angus said, you’ve inherited his talents, but they didn’t appear until you were older. Sixteen?”

  I caught my breath. That was something Dad and I rarely talked about. Uncle Newt and my mother were the only ones who knew the whole truth of how my powers had manifested. Of the damage I’d been able to do. I sipped my tea to buy a little time. If Angus had told this secret to Callum, then it meant he trusted him. I might as well give it a shot. “I don’t talk about this with anyone.”

  Callum didn’t say anything—just sat there listening.

  “Everything was fine. I was exactly like everyone else, growing up. And then, one night I changed.”

  I stopped there, not wanting to continue.

  Cal’s voice was gentle this time, the teasing and banter he’d used before gone. “You can’t prepare for something you don’t know is coming.” His words were genuine, heavy with some feeling I couldn’t identify fully. He locked eyes with me. “I understand. More than you think I do. I know how it feels to want to change things, knowing you can’t.”

  I laughed, a brittle sound cracking through the air. I’d thought of that one moment too many times. It was a wound I kept tearing open, wondering if things might have been different if I’d only walked a different way. Not said yes. Not tried to be a normal girl. Of all the things my father could do, the magic he’d taught me to work, turning back time wasn’t a trick either one of us knew. No matter how much we wished we could. I tore the toast in my hands into tiny pieces, watching them drop onto my plate. My stomach twisted at the idea of eating any more. “So, two years Bel
ow. That’s how much time I spent there. Learning. Practicing. Hoping I wouldn’t hurt anyone else. Finally, I decided it was time to leave.” There was a pain in my voice that surprised me. “Angus wanted me to stay with him. Bargained with me. But in the end, he let me go.”

  Callum stood up, clearing away the plates, his distance giving me a moment to compose myself. Standing at the sink, rinsing dishes off, he said, “Not many people survive two years Below, Laney. At least, not intact.” Again, there was a current of understanding that passed between us, as if he’d lived something similar.

  I nodded, even though I knew he wouldn’t see me. I took a drink of my tea, the strong familiar scent of Earl Grey comforting. Time for a change of subject. “How did you make coffee? I don’t even have anything to make it with.”

  He laughed. “Moose helped me with that. We hopped out to my place while you were still sleeping, and I was able to grab a few things—toothbrush, a coffeemaker, and my favorite roasted blend.”

  “How exactly did my dog help you with that?”

  “Well, since you’ve made him yours, he’s tied here. He was able to anchor me and connect your home with mine for a short time. Long enough that I was able to get the essentials. I don’t do well without my coffee in the morning.”

  “I didn’t realize he could do something like that. Or that he was mine. But then, I also thought he was just a dog.” I made sure to shoot a pointed look at Moose, who completely ignored me. He was curled up in his bed, nose tucked in and eyes closed.

  Callum smiled at that silent exchange and leaned on the granite top of the island. “If you’re willing, you could come with me to get the rest of my things. I can show you how to open that road, so you’ll know how to do it in an emergency.”

  I shrugged and sipped my tea, thinking about it. It wasn’t a bad idea and it was a skill that could be helpful in the future. “Okay. But give me a little more time to wake up. It’s still too early for something like that.”