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with an illegal demon, it’s already in custody and contained. But sometimes it’s comforting to own the one weapon that can bring a demon to his knees. I checked the battery—good to go—and turned off the safety. When I opened the door again, I pointed the Taser smack-dab at Andrew’s chest. Now, you might think this is a strange way to greet my own brother, but the last time he’d paid a visit, we’d gotten in one hell of a fight, and the bastard had punched me. Knocked me out cold. When I came to, I’d seriously considered filing assault charges against him. In the end, it hadn’t been worth the hassle, and I knew nothing would come of it. Yes, technically assault was a violent crime, and the state could throw the book at him. But though he’d knocked me out, he’d hit me with only human strength. If he’d hit me with his full strength, I’d be dead. Oh, did I forget to mention my brother is a demon host? Ever since he turned twenty-one, the legal age of consent. I’ve never forgiven him. We were pretty close as kids. Well, as close as a brother and sister can be when only three years separate them. Up until I was about ten, I practically worshiped him. But when he hit puberty, the Spirit Society’s brainwashing started him seriously thinking about becoming a demon host, and he changed.
    He’d always been more into the Society than me—no doubt a large reason why he was the family favorite—but when he started thinking about hosting, he became almost a fanatic. My parents were so proud of him, but I knew it meant I’d lose my big brother someday soon, and I hated it. Andrew looked at the Taser and raised his eyebrows. “Are you planning self-defense, or revenge?” he asked, his voice mild. I thought about that a moment. I didn’t think he was going to hit me again. I’d had to work really hard to get him that angry last time. Now that I knew he had a temper under his usually calm exterior, I wasn’t anxious to bring it to the surface.
    “Revenge, I guess,” I said, then shot him. The probes latched onto his leather jacket, and fifty thousand volts slammed into him. He gratifyingly collapsed into himself, landing on the doorstep in fetal position, screaming.
    When I got my Taser license, one of the requirements was to take a shot 27 / 226
    Jenna Black, The Devil Inside (2007)
    Morgan Kingsley #1
    yourself, just so you’d have a real clear understanding of the power you hold in your hands. I’d seen two-hundred-pound macho men scream like little girls. I wish I could say I’d taken it in stoic silence, but I’d screamed as loud as anyone. Never felt anything like it. Never want to again.
    “Sorry, Andy,” I said softly, talking to my real brother, the one who was imprisoned somewhere in that body. I wasn’t clear if the host could feel the demon’s pain or not, but just in case it could, I felt the need to apologize. It took the demon more time to recover from the shot than it would have taken a human. The electricity really fucks up their control of the nervous system. He lay in a panting heap for a while, then uncurled and pushed himself to his knees, looking up at me from behind a lock of reddish blond hair that had fallen over his eyes.
    “Should I bother getting up,” he asked, “or am I in for some more fun?”
    He was still so infuriatingly calm it made me want to zap him again. But he’d only hit me once. Fair’s fair. That didn’t mean I was putting the Taser away, but I ejected the cartridge and let him pluck the probes out of his jacket.
    “Remember,” I warned him, “I can still use this like a stun gun without reloading.”
    He laughed and pushed his hair out of his eyes, then stood up slowly, keeping a close watch on the Taser. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
    “So, what, the pain doesn’t even bother you? You just laugh at it?”
    He shrugged. “It bothers me. But I deal with pain all the time on the job. If I fell to pieces every time something hurt, I’d be