Interlude
“I feel like an i***t,” Asmodeus complained. He glared down at his ill-fitting jeans and baggy T-shirt, which advertised some long-defunct heavy metal group.
“This isn’t a beauty contest,” Beelzebub replied coolly. Possession always felt odd at first, like shoving your feet into a pair of shoes that were a size too small. But the potential benefits here far outweighed the momentary discomfort. He had taken over the body of Vincent Nguyen, since Beelzebub judged that particular young man to be the marginal leader of Danny’s housemates, while Asmodeus now inhabited the form of Zach O’Connell, a spotty individual whose limbs all seemed about half a foot too long.
They stood in the kitchen of the home the possessees shared with young Master Koslowski. As was the case with most bac
