Sarah Brennan - The Demon's Lexicon

Mae and Jamie visibly relaxed.

Nick gave up, shaking his head and following his brother inside. Mae squared her shoulders resolutely and crossed the threshold into their home. Nick was standing in the doorway and stepped back about an inch, so she had to brush by him. She looked irritated and uncomfortable doing it, and he smirked at her. He saw her hesitate, as if she was about to turn and run, but Alan stood before her looking honest and inviting.

She stopped, reached up, and tapped the talisman lying against Nick’s chest.

“What’s this?” she asked, her voice a little softer.

“It’s a talisman,” Alan answered gently. “It warns him when magic is being used nearby, and it protects him from smaller spells.”

“Protects him,” Mae repeated. “So you’re talking about black magic, then? The kind that hurts people — that causes trouble.”

Nick laughed, looking at the broken glass and black feathers around them.

“There isn’t any other kind.”

“I have a feeling this is going to be one hell of an explanation,” Mae said, and walked into the kitchen and toward Alan.

Jamie still looked wide-eyed and extremely doubtful about what he was doing, but he dashed in after her.

Nick closed the door and found himself wondering what had brought this pair to their house. You had to be desperate to come to them.

OF COURSE NICK WAS EXPECTED TO GET RID OF THE BODY.

He always did it, since Alan couldn’t be expected to haul corpses about the place with his leg, but he seldom found it this irritating. He could’ve had his dinner first, if Alan hadn’t been worried about what the guests would think.

He twisted the steering wheel more viciously than he should have, since making sharp turns in the narrow roads around Exeter was not exactly advisable.

His foul mood might have something to do with the fact that these two freaks were from his school. People from his school had seen the way he lived, with the sword and the gun and with ravens and demons. It didn’t seem to bother Alan, but it should have. There were a lot of things about their life that should have bothered Alan.

He drove along the river Exe for a while, the low-lying city lost behind the car, the faint shapes of buildings in the distance looking like no more than the shadows of a larger city he could not see. He waited until there had been nobody else on the road for ten minutes, then pulled the car over to the side of the road and climbed out.

Nick bundled the body out of the boot. The man had been tall, he noticed idly, and he wondered if he should check his sigil to see what Circle he belonged to.

He decided not to. Anyone could come by while he was doing it, and besides, it didn’t matter which Circle had found them this time. All the Circles were after them. It would be a different one next time.

The presence of sigils on the bodies was good for only one thing. It meant that the Circle would check for the tattoos and take back their own, and the police would not come to Alan and Nick’s asking questions about discovered bodies and shots fired.

All the same, it was usually a good idea to remove the corpse from their actual property.

Nick looked into the man’s slack face. It was also a good idea to get the body into running water as soon as possible. Otherwise the Circle might give their fallen comrade to the demons. A demon could use a dead body for a few days.

The body was easy enough to haul up onto the parapet, and Nick balanced it there for a moment, looking down at the river. The waters were black and quiet before he dropped the man into them, hoisting the flopping legs over the side as he went. The body hit the water with a splash, sinking almost entirely under, dragged down by the weight of a heavy leather coat and innumerable charms and talismans. Nick watched a pale hand bob at the surface, buffeted by the current so it looked alive.

He turned and climbed back into the car. He hoped that their uninvited guests would be gone by the time he reached home. It shouldn’t take long for Alan to tell them that there were magicians in the world who could call up demons and set them on people. That there were quite a lot of other things happening side by side with the normal world those idiots pretended they didn’t fit into. They had probably just heard the warnings Alan had spread and convinced themselves they needed “occult help.” wop.&rdqu

Chances were, after all, that whatever problem the pair had was imaginary. He turned the engine on. It roared to life, and he pulled away fast from the side of the river where the body was sinking.

Imaginary problems. Must be nice.

By the time Nick had turned the curve past St. David’s station, he was sure Alan was already finishing the usual spiel. He told everyone who came all they needed to know to protect themselves. If Alan had been less eager to help people and more concerned about protecting himself, Nick would’ve felt better.

Nick could almost hear Alan’s voice now.

There are demons living in another world, he would say, a world side by side with ours, and they are hungry.

They are hungry for the sounds and sights and sensations of our world. None of them can get in, though. None of them can touch you, unless a magicians’ circle builds a bridge for the demons. Stay safe. Stay away from the magicians. Stay away from us.

Worked for Nick.

He parked the car, jumped out, and came in angling the door so he could see everything, his sword half-drawn, as he usually did.

Alan’s voice drifted to him through the open door. “So, Mae — is that because your birthday’s in May? Because it’s almost May now….”

Alan had changed the usual spiel a bit, Nick noticed.

He pushed the door all the way open and slid his sword all the way out of its scabbard. This pair had invaded his house. He could scare them if he liked.

“It’s not May like the month,” Mae explained. “It’s Mae like Mae West.”

“Like you wish,” said Nick.

At the same time, his brother glowed and asked, “Are you a movie buff?”

The sitting room was brightly lit and conspicuous for its ordinariness, unlike their kitchen full of broken glass and dead birds. Alan had obviously made everyone a cup of tea, and he and Mae were sitting in the two big, broken-down armchairs. Jamie was perched on the end of their sofa, his tea untouched, as if he did not trust it. Alan was leaning slightly toward Mae, and she twisted her head at the sound of Nick’s voice and looked toward the door.

Nick observed the flicker of appreciation in her brown eyes. He wasn’t particularly surprised. She was just the type to like them tall, dark, and carrying a lethal weapon.

He let his lip curl. That kind of behavior was so stupid, he couldn’t bear it.

“You lot still here?” he asked. “When’s dinner?”

“We have a serious problem,” Mae told him, now looking angry rather than appreciative.

Nick came in, idly swinging his sword, and took a seat on the other end of the sofa. “I’m sorry to hear that,” he said. “And I’m still hungry.”

“I’m sorry about him,” Alan put in, glaring. “He gets cranky.”

Nick raised his eyebrows. “I’m only cranky when I’m not fed.”

“So he’s — he’s cranky?” Jamie repeated. “Cranky, and — and he carries a great big sword. Well, that’s marvelous, that is.”

Alan laughed, and Jamie relaxed again. Alan had a knack for that. Parents, bosses, animals, and children, they all liked Alan.

Girls liked Nick. He felt it was a fair trade.

Nick realized that since Jamie was in his class at school, chances were that they were the same age, but Nick had always looked and felt older than all the kids at school, and Jamie was small and wide-eyed: made to be his teacher’s pet and his classmates’ target.