Page 51 of Devil Inside

“You don’t believe.” The expression on her face changes. Hardens, somehow.

“Believe,” I say with the slightest huff.

“Should I prove it to you?”

“That you’re Lilith?” I can’t help but feel curious. “How are you going to do that?”

She considers this. The silence between us stretches and I can’t help but wonder what she’s about to do. Should I be worried? “Do you remember the music hall?” she asks.

“The Flood Zone.”

“We met there.”

“Lilith, yeah.You?Nah...” I shake my head. “Can’t say we did, sorry.”

“Do you remember what you were drinking? A whiskey on ice. Several.”

Still not buying it. “Lilith could’ve told you that, easily.”

The air thickens between us. Her breath. The pulse in her neck. The sound of our surroundings silences itself. There’s nothing else to hear. I can even see the steady thrum from her jugular along the side of her neck. “What about the alleyway behind it? What about your apartment? The bike frame on the wall? What about your bed? Your body?”

“Again,” I say. “The devil’s in the details. Lilith could’ve told you all of this.”

Silence. I’m thinking the jig is up, game over. I’ve called her out.

Then she sings.

To me.

Just a sotto voce serenade.“I’m going down, down to the River of Jordan... and let the cool waters cleanse my soul.”

I feel it just then. This chill. The air escapes my lungs straight away.

Lilith could easily have given her girlfriend this little tidbit. She could’ve shared every last little detail about our night together, leaving no fucking stone unturned. Down to the very scars.

And... yet. Hearing her sing. Something shifts inside. I sense it. Feel it.

Her.

It’s not possible. There’s no way, no fucking way, that this could be Lilith. This is a completely different woman. They don’t even look remotely alike. They don’t sound alike. The words, the cadence in her intonation, may be the same—but the voice. It’s not hers.

I wasn’tthatdrunk. I know who she was, and this is certainly not Lilith...

... Is it?

“No,” I say. More to myself. More forcefully, I repeat it, “There’s no way.”

“But it is.”

“How is that... you? You’re not—”the same person“—you.”

“You’re only focusing on the flesh, Jordan.”

“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”

“It’s what is on the inside that matters, yes? Isn’t that what they all say?” She reaches her hand out. Her finger grazes mine. Just the faintest touch, but a jolt of electricity comes with it. A cold shock. “That’s where you’ll find me. You just have to look deeper.”

I step back. I need distance. Need air. Something to breathe.