Sarah Brennan: The Demon's Lexicon

For a moment he felt as if the body might burst, but then he seemed to settle back into it, his energy running comfortably along the lines of the body again and finding a way to fit. Then it was just a matter of remembering that he had to move the limbs in order to move again. It seemed such a clumsy way to do things, and he levered himself up with arms that felt like rubber.

Nick squinted, and the world came into focus.

Jamie was standing by the window, saying, “The storm just stopped,” in a wondering, detached sort of way. He turned at the sound of Nick getting awkwardly to his feet.

At least stepping out of the circle was no problem now.

“Nick woke up,” Jamie told Mae as Nick walked, surer with every step, across the floor toward his brother. His body was working well enough that when he got to Alan, he went down on his knees beside him, and nothing had ever been so easy.

Alan was lying on his side, and he was still breathing. He had just been knocked out when Arthur tackled him, Nick told himself. He was all right; he had to be.

What Nick did do was reach out and wipe away the trickle of blood at the corner of Black Arthur’s mouth. Then he leaned over, passed his bloody fingers over Alan’s leg, and watched the demon’s mark fade away.

Nick did not touch his brother again. He just stayed by his side and waited for him to wake up.

After a moment, he slanted a look over at Mae. She had not stirred when Jamie told her about the storm or about Nick. She was standing over the body of the man she had killed. Nick remembered now — she had killed him and taken the mark off Jamie. He made an effort to catch her eye, and when he did he smiled.

“Well done,” he said.

Mae looked sick. Nick realized that somehow he had said the wrong thing, and he was just thinking that Alan would have said the right thing when he saw Alan stir.

The first thing Alan’s eyes fell on when he opened them was Mae, and immediately he sat up and said, “Oh, Mae. I’m sorry.”

For some reason, that seemed to be the right thing. Mae almost smiled, and at the sound of Alan’s voice, Jamie stopped looking lost in troubled thought and looked instead at his sister. He went over to her at once, looked anxiously up at her, then reached out and wrapped a protective arm around her shoulders.

She smiled properly then, dropping a kiss on his head. That was good, Nick thought, and then Alan said, “Where’s Nick?” and all thought of the others was lost.

For the first time since he had heard the truth, he turned and looked into his brother’s eyes.

Alan looked enormously relieved to see him and scared to death. Nick looked at him and knew what Alan was seeing: blank black eyes set in an expressionless face, and no way to guess what was going on behind those eyes. Alan had flinched violently away from him when waking from dreams of demons. Alan had deliberately unleashed him on the world.

Whatever Nick did now, Alan would think it was his fault.

Nick decided it was good that he had not allowed Alan to wake and see that empty body. He could be here. He could do that much.

“Nick,” Alan said, and his eyes traveled from Nick’s face to Mum’s body, lying too close to them. Alan flinched back, as if the sight hurt him. He was shaking a little. “Nick,” he said again, and his voice was shaking a little too. “Nick, talk to me.”

Nick shook too, but not from horror or grief. He just felt cold, empty of the right words. He knew how to talk, but he did not know what to say. He could not give Alan what he did not have. He could not be human, even for Alan.

He allowed himself to remember Black Arthur’s voice once more. Black Arthur had said that a demon was a creature defined by its actions and its desires.

“I won’t leave you,” Nick said, his voice emotionless as ever in his own ears. “I don’t want to.”

“Okay,” whispered Alan. He reached out, the way humans did, and slid his arm around Nick’s shoulders. “Okay,” he said again, and Nick could tell by the trembling in his voice that he was crying.

His tears fell warm on Nick’s hair, and he slid warm fingers through Nick’s hair to follow them. Nick closed his tearless demon’s eyes and leaned into the embrace.

“What are we going to do?” he asked.

Alan whispered, “We’re going to go home,” and Nick nodded, abandoned words for just a moment, and bowed his head as Alan stroked his hair. He was not made human, but he began slowly to feel as if this body could be his again. He felt grounded and at home already under his brother’s gentle human hands.