Page 117 of Devil Inside

I could say something. Shout. But that would just draw attention.

“Don’t fight,” Gil—

not him, something else

—says in a tone I’ve never heard from him before. He leans in, the full weight of his body pressing me against the mat. Crushing me. His face is only inches away from mine. He tilts his head to take me in. A slender tendril of drool escapes his lips. It extends, then snaps, the drip landing on my cheek. Is anyone seeing this? Why isn’t anyone helping me?

“Why did you have to say goodbye so soon, Jordan? We miss you...”

“Let go... of me.”

“Why should we?” he asks, his lips at our ear. To everyone else in the room, it’s just another stretching exercise. The pain. The pressure. The sweat. Nothing out of the normal.

“We’re just getting started,” he says. “I want to taste you from the inside out—”

I bring my knee up into Gil’s groin. His grin only grows wider.

“Now, now... Play nice.”

More than one. There’s always been more than one.

“Why does Lilith get to have all the fun?” His breath spreads deep into my ear, over the lobe, as he whispers, “Why not share? There’s plenty to go around.”

He laps the sweat off my cheek with the quickest lick.

“All you gotta do is open up and...let us in.”

And just like that...

Gil lets go, blinking back to the gym. He sits upright, releasing me. I quickly pull back, reeling my limbs in and crab walking over the mat to put some distance between us.

“What’s up?” Gil seems genuinely perplexed. He takes in the rest of the gym, shaking the dizzy spell off. “Sorry, I blanked out there. What’d you say?”

I glance around the room. At all the other people in the midst of their own private sessions. There have to be about twelve people surrounding me, all told. Patients. Trainers. Each and every one of them is in the middle of their own workout, bending, flexing.

There. That woman. Middle-aged. A webbing of varicose veins laces her legs, the purple network of arteries crawling across her skin. She’s on her back, sprawled out on the mat, her head tilted toward me. Smiling. Something skulks within her eyes as she winks.

Jesus, why did I think there would just be one?

It was never only Lilith. They can be anyone, everyone, anywhere, everyone.

Yeah, but... how many?

Legion.

fig and prosciutto

Lilith

Others, he says.

“How many others are there?” It’s as if his voice is reaching from some unknown distance, an ocean between us.

“Have you been slipping out on us?” we chide, finding our smile. It doesn’t fit, slipping off our lips nearly as fast as we manifest it.

“I need to know.” We hear the strain in his voice. Jordan’s world is changing, collapsing all around him. He sees things differently now. Sees me differently. Things won’t be the same ever again, now that it’s starting to sink in. “How many of you are there?”

He’s afraid.