The food court was on the top floor, but we didn’t want Dougal and company spotting us until we were good and ready. Adam went up first, to make sure Dougal was there in the flesh, so to speak, and to make sure our meeting place was as secure as possible. Dom watched anxiously as Adam rode the escalator up. As a police officer and demon hunter, Adam put himself in danger on a regular basis, and Dom had to know that. But I guess knowing it in an abstract way was easier than watching it unfold.
After a very long few minutes, Adam called Raphael’s cell phone and let him know that he and Dougal were ready for us. There wasn’t anything on the face of the planet that could force Adam to give us the all clear if he saw something hinky, but that didn’t stop me from feeling a nervous flutter in my stomach. Dougal had been the bogeyman for so long now that I couldn’t help being scared shitless at the idea of meeting him face to face.
There wasn’t a whole lot of breathing room on the escalator, and I was glad I wasn’t claustrophobic. The four of us stayed close together, doing our best to keep the shoppers—and the teenaged mall rats—
from getting between us.
The food court, naturally, was mobbed. I looked at some of the lines in front of the restaurants and wondered why anyone would want to wait in line that long to get fast food. If I’d been in one of those lines, I’d be expecting nothing short of a filet mignon by the time I got to the counter. Though considering the lingering nausea from the control change, even a filet would have made me hurl.
Despite the mob, we had no trouble spotting Adam waving at us. Raphael and I led the way, one final layer of protection between Lugh and Dougal.
There were three people already seated at the long table, though I was pretty sure that the four people at the neighboring table belonged to Dougal’s entourage, too. They weren’t watching us, and they had food in front of them, but they all had the stereotypical demon good looks, and they were more playing with their food than eating it.
The three at the long table were all also demon-beautiful. There was a tall, slim Asian woman with shiny blue-black hair that trailed halfway down her back. There was a solidly built man who dressed like an MIB wannabe and whose face held the most neutral expression I’d ever seen.
And then there was contestant number three, a striking blond guy with piercing blue eyes and sensual lips. He slouched casually in his chair, while his two companions sat rigidly straight, their eyes busily scanning the area. Gee, I wondered which one was Dougal.
Apparently, Lugh blended in better than Dougal, because I could tell from the way Dougal looked from one of us to the other—mostly skipping me—that he was trying to figure out which one of us was Lugh. A long, silent staring match ensued, during which I noticed the foursome at the next table had stopped playing with their food, though they still weren’t overtly watching us.
“Everyone keep your hands where I can see them,” Adam said. “If I see anyone reaching for anything, I’ll shoot you.” His hand rested firmly on the gun holstered at his side. It was a good thing his superiors had merely pressured him into taking a vacation, rather than taking away his badge and gun. “I am a cop, so I can get away with it even if you’re just pulling out a hanky.”
My eyes darted around at the people sitting at nearby tables, but the noise level in the food court was so high it would be hard to hear anything unless you were listening closely.
“So paranoid,” Dougal said with a mocking smile. “I’m here under a flag of truce, remember?” But he laid his hands on the table, and gestured for his two companions to do the same.
“Them, too,” Adam said, jerking his chin toward the four at the other table.
Dougal rolled his eyes as if all these precautions were ridiculous. But he glanced over his shoulder and nodded at the demons at the other table, and they all kept their hands in plain sight. Dougal then turned back to the rest of us.
“Now, which one of you is Lugh? We have much to talk about, so let’s not waste time posturing.”
Lugh pushed past Raphael and me and stood towering over his brother. The rest of us kept up our careful scans of the people around us. We were each armed with a Taser, but this being a public place, we didn’t dare have them out. That didn’t mean we weren’t ready to draw them at a moment’s notice.
Lugh didn’t say anything, just held out his hand. To the human beings around us, it looked like a handshake that went on for an abnormally long time, but I knew they were checking each other’s auras, confirming their identities, although Adam had been tasked with confirming Dougal’s presence before calling us to come up.
“Sit down, all of you,” Dougal said when he let go of Lugh’s hand. “We can’t have a civilized conversation with you all looming over me like that.”
Lugh raised an eyebrow, but took the seat directly opposite Dougal. The rest of us took that as a cue and sat as well, except for Adam, who was keeping an eye on Dougal’s minions.
“There’s only so civilized this conversation can be, considering you’ve been trying to have me killed,”
Lugh said. Even in Tommy Brewster’s body, even with the effort he made to hide it, I knew Lugh well enough to hear the edge of pain in his voice. He refused to admit it—I’m not the only one who’s good at denial—but his brother’s betrayal had wounded him.
Apparently, Dougal knew him well enough to hear it, too. He lost his mask of polite disinterest and leaned forward, regret clear in his eyes. I was betting Dougal was as good an actor as Raphael, but there’s always a chance it might have been genuine.
“It was never anything personal, Lugh,” Dougal said. “I want what I want, and you’re in my way. If there had been a way to take the throne without harming you, I would have done it.”
Lugh snorted. “How very thoughtful of you. That makes it all better.”
“If you’d be willing to abdicate the throne in my favor, we could end this without any further bloodshed.”
Lugh actually laughed at that. “Come now, brother. Surely you don’t believe I’m that stupid. I’d have to return to the Demon Realm to formally abdicate, and I don’t for a moment believe that you wouldn’t have your friends summon me back to the Mortal Plain for a bonfire. Even assuming I’d be willing to entertain the idea in the first place, which I wouldn’t.”
Dougal smiled and held his hands out to his sides in a “Well, it was worth a shot” gesture. “I had to at least ask,” he said. The smile leaked away. “But I suppose there is no hope that both of us can survive this little squabble. It’s a pity. I would be happy to kill Raphael with my own two hands. But I’d prefer not to kill you if I could think of a way to avoid it.”
It took some serious effort for me not to glance at Raphael and see how he took that news, but I managed it. Which was a good thing, no doubt, because Dougal’s lieutenants were obviously searching all our faces, trying to figure out if one of us was Raphael. I’m pretty sure Raphael’s poker face held, since no one seemed to be staring at him in particular.
Lugh cocked his head to one side. “Is that so? I seem to remember William saying something about how you wished you could be here in person to watch me burn.”
Dougal waved that off. “I was angry when I said that.” He gave Lugh a wry look. “You’ve made this all rather more difficult than I was planning.”
“So sorry to be a bother.”
“Yeah, I’ll bet you are.” Dougal swept the rest of us with a glance. “So where is our baby brother anyway?” he asked, and he made no attempt to hide the hatred in his eyes. Apparently, Lugh wasn’t supposed to take it personally when Dougal betrayed him, but it was okay for Dougal to take it personally when Raphael did it to him.
Lugh made a face, and his voice dripped with contempt. “I have no idea where he is, and I don’t want to know.”