Jealousy flared in Brian’s eyes, and I didn’t know what to say. I couldn’t even tell him he had no reason to be jealous of Lugh, because that would be a lie.

Brian’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, and I had to look away from the pain on his face. I hated seeing Brian hurt, but my first instinct was always to lash out. I’d gotten better at controlling that instinct lately, but my control wasn’t perfect.

“I seem to remember a time when you got mad at me for assuming you’d be jealous,” I said, still not looking at him. “You said I didn’t give you enough credit. It’s beginning to look like I was right all along.”

Brian made a sound of frustration. “That was when Lugh was coming on to you. I can’t be mad at you for what Lugh does. But this … this is all you.”

My head flew up suddenly, and it wasn’t because I wanted to look at Brian again. In fact, what I really wanted to do was turn my back, just in case the tears that hovered behind my eyes decided to fall. But when I met Brian’s gaze, it wasn’t me looking out from my eyes, it was Lugh. And he was pissed.

“I’m sorry if this makes you sick later,” he said, speaking to me, not Brian, “but I’ve heard enough.”

“Huh?” Brian asked, frowning in puzzlement, because, of course, he didn’t realize yet what had happened.

Lugh uncrossed my arms and took a decidedly aggressive step in Brian’s direction.

What the fuck do you think you’re doing? I screamed at him, but he ignored me.

“You selfish little bastard,” Lugh said through my mouth, glaring at Brian. “All this time you’ve hounded Morgan to open up to you, to trust you not to hurt her. Then the moment she says something you don’t like, you slam the emotional door in her face.”

Some of the color left Brian’s face. I guess he was finally figuring out it wasn’t me who was speaking anymore. “Lugh?” he asked tentatively.

Lugh didn’t bother to answer. “Have you given even a moment’s thought as to what you’re asking her to give up?” he asked, poking Brian in the breastbone hard enough to make Brian take a step back.

“With me in residence, she has all the advantages of being a demon host. She will never get sick—

except for these unexplained illnesses that happen with control changes. She can heal any injury short of a mortal wound, and even some of them. If anyone ever attacks her, I can protect her. And I can help her cope with some of the horrors she’s faced. Someone else who’s been through everything she’s been through might suffer from posttraumatic stress for the rest of her life, but because of me, Morgan won’t. All this she gains, without having to give up control of her body and her life. And you think she should throw it all away just because I make you uncomfortable?”

Brian was rarely at a loss for words—something of a survival trait for lawyers—but he was struck speechless now. He stood there in the kitchen doorway, gaping at Lugh and absently rubbing the spot on his chest that Lugh had poked. I wondered if it would leave a bruise.

But Brian wasn’t speechless for long. I could see him pulling the shreds of his composure back together. His shoulders straightened and his chin rose, the lines in his jaw showing how tightly his teeth were clenched. He leaned ever so slightly forward, into Lugh’s personal space, and if it were anyone but Brian, I would have suspected he was seriously considering throwing a punch.

“You think you’re the best thing that ever happened to her, huh?” Brian asked, and there was no missing the fury in his voice. “Because of you, she was almost burned at the stake. Because of you, I was kidnapped and tortured. Because of you, her father is dead. And none of this is going to stop until you’re out of our lives once and for all. So don’t give me all this self-righteous bullshit when we both know all you really want is to get into her pants.”

Internally, I winced. I’d seen Brian angry before, but not like this. Not almost-out-of-control angry.

He’s angry because he knows I’m right, and he doesn’t like it, Lugh said, his mental voice sounding much calmer than he was making my own voice sound out loud.

“Don’t forget, I’m just as happy to get into your pants as hers,” Lugh said, twisting my lips into a nasty smile.

Brian’s face, already red with anger, turned almost crimson, and both fists clenched at his sides. Lugh folded his arms across his chest … that is, folded my arms across my chest. “Go ahead and hit me if it will make you feel better,” Lugh said. “I won’t let Morgan feel it.”

And, for reasons I didn’t even begin to understand, Brian’s shoulders suddenly sagged, and the anger drained from his face.

“Jesus Christ,” Brian said, scrubbing at his hair with both hands—trying to find an outlet for all that rage, I suppose.

“I’ve told Morgan this many times,” Lugh said, his voice now much softer. “You and I are not in competition. She loves you, Brian. You have no idea how much power that gives you over her, or how terrified she is of that power. I’ve helped her manage that fear, you know I have. I’m not your competition, and I’m certainly not your enemy.”

Brian looked defeated. “I know that, I guess. I just …” He shrugged.

I felt one corner of my mouth lift in a wry smile. “You just want some evidence that if she had to choose between you and me, she’d choose you.”

Brian laughed, but it was a nervous sound. “It sounds so childish when you put it that way.”

It is! I wanted to yell at him. Probably just as well Lugh was in control at the moment.

Lugh reached out with my hand and cupped Brian’s cheek tenderly. Brian jumped at the touch, clearly not sure what to do. It was, after all, my hand. I just didn’t happen to be the one controlling it.

“It’s you that Morgan loves,” Lugh said, his fingers— my fingers—tracing a line down the side of Brian’s face. “Don’t back her into a corner to make her prove it. Some things are meant to be taken on faith.”

Brian shied away from Lugh’s touch, but there didn’t seem to be any real rancor or distaste in the gesture. “You’ve made your point. Now will you put Morgan back in control?”

Lugh sighed. “I will if you promise to drop the argument and nurse us back to health.”

Brian almost smiled at that, but not quite.

I tried to brace myself as Lugh faded into the background and put me back in the driver’s seat, but the headache still slammed into the back of my eyes like a semi truck. I groaned and let myself sag into Brian’s waiting arms.

I WAS NOT A HAPPY CAMPER. WHEN LUGH AND I change control too often, I invariably get sick to my stomach and am gifted with a raging headache. The closer together the control changes are, the worse my symptoms. Twice in two days was very definitely too much, and I felt like an industrious blacksmith had taken up residence in my skull.

I felt too lousy to continue my deep discussion with Brian, or even to complain about Lugh taking over like that. Brian didn’t seem much inclined to continue the conversation, either. He sent me off to my bedroom to hide in the comforting semidarkness as I waited for the aftereffects to go away. If previous experience was any guide, I’d feel better in a few hours as long as Lugh didn’t take control again. If he did, I was in for at least three days of misery.

Brian brought me some aspirin and a glass of water. I took them even though I knew they wouldn’t help. My head throbbed steadily, and I hoped that, miraculously, this time the aspirin would work.

True to his word, Brian spent the rest of the afternoon with me. We didn’t talk much—it was hard to be coherent when my head hurt so badly—but I did find his presence strangely comforting. I spent the entire time lying in my bed with my eyes closed, willing the pain to go away. Brian tried to distract me with a back rub that would have felt heavenly under other circumstances.