Sarah Brennan: The Demon's Covenant

Mae forced her mind to go slowly over what Jessica was saying, to be methodical and pick out the important details. The fact that she might have a drop of magic in her blood after all wasn’t important.

Not compared to the fact that the magicians clearly had a spy in the Goblin Market, if they knew how she danced. Probably more than one.

“I never hated my brother,” said Mae. “That was your question, wasn’t it? And I answered it. Never did. Never will. I love him.”

“And does he love you enough to share power with you?” Jessica asked. “He could, if he were a magician and you were a messenger. If he wore a sigil and you wore a token, you could have all the power you wanted.”

“If I persuaded Jamie to join the Obsidian Circle, you mean.”

“Not necessarily. But Gerald Lynch is a very brilliant young man.”

Mae rolled her eyes. “I’m sure.”

“You know the sigils the magicians wear?” Jessica asked. “Brands that feed them power and mark them as belonging to a particular Circle. They’re a little like demons’ marks, in a way. Power bleeds through.”

Mae remembered Olivia pulling down her shirt to reveal the black sigil of the Obsidian Circle on her white skin. Nobody who wears this mark is innocent , she’d said, her pale eyes glowing like a hungry animal’s.

Gerald and this woman sitting so calmly in her mother’s parlor wanted to put a mark like that on Jamie.

“Word on the street is that Gerald’s invented a whole different kind of mark,” Jessica said. “Some people say more than one, but I don’t believe that. The one everyone is talking about is based on the Obsidian Circle’s master ring. Thorned snakes eating their own tails. If it’s true, that would be power worth serving.” Jessica’s lips curved, the knives in her earrings ringing out faintly, like wind chimes. “Could be power enough to take on a demon.”

Mae curled her fingers tight into her palms and forced herself to keep smiling.

“So you’re here to frighten Jamie into joining?”

“I’m here to watch you both,” Jessica said. “And perhaps give you a little advice on your best course of action.”

Annabel came through the door, walking like a cat in her towering heels.

“Have you two been having an interesting conversation?” she asked.

She shook her head as Jessica got up to help her with the tray, murmuring that it was not at all necessary, and Jessica leaned against the back of Mae’s chair. Mae’s spine felt as if it wanted to crawl out of her skin and hide down the front of her shirt, but she refused to let herself turn around, even when Jessica was so close her breath was ruffling Mae’s hair.

“Very interesting. I do hope that Mavis will consider the internship,” the messenger said, and she touched Mae’s hair with one hand.

The gesture must have looked casual to Annabel, even affectionate, but it was such a shock that it felt like an invasion. Her fingers were just a little too tight in Mae’s hair as she spoke, her calm voice the way Mae had heard it months ago, too close to cruelty.

“I will be sure,” said Jessica Walker, “to keep in touch.”

She did not stay long after that. When she was gone, Annabel offered Mae a cup of tea. Mae shook her head.

“If you took an interest in law,” Annabel said, “it would make me very hap—”

“You can’t ever let that woman in the house again,” said Mae.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Mavis!”

“Annabel,” Mae said, “I—when I knew her before, I can’t talk about it. It’s private. But she was terrible to friends of mine. She scared me badly. I don’t trust her. I don’t want her here, or—or around you.”

“It seemed like her client’s custom might be a valuable asset to the firm,” Annabel said slowly, and Mae’s heart sank.

She was usually able to persuade people, to make them see things her way, but it had never worked with Annabel.

“When you and your brother disappeared,” Annabel began.

“Oh, not this again!”

“Hear me out, Mavis. When you disappeared, I was very—” Annabel cleared her throat. “I was very distressed. I realize that your father has pulled away a lot from you both in recent years, and I have been absorbed in my work and not compensating for the loss. I regret that.”

“Um,” Mae said. “Okay.”

“If you two ran away under the impression that I would not care,” Annabel said, “I did. And while your behavior was extremely reckless and irresponsible, I know I was at fault as well. If you wish me to turn away this client for your peace of mind, I will. I should cut back on my work anyway, and—we should make an effort to eat together.”

Annabel was probably just saying this because she felt she had to, because she didn’t want the girls down at the tennis club to gossip about her delinquent children, but she’d said that she would turn the magicians’ messenger away all the same. Mae was so relieved she wanted to cry.

“All right,” she said. “It’s a deal.”

She thought of something and fumbled at her neck, untying the cord that held her talisman in place. If the magicians had sent a messenger to visit her mother, they could send demons.

“Could you wear this, Annabel?” she asked, getting up and holding it out. “To seal the deal,” she added, and gave Annabel a smile she hoped would be convincing.

Annabel looked pleased at the gesture and absolutely horrified by the necklace, which looked like a huge dream catcher, gleaming with bones and gems.

“Thank you, Mavis,” she said bravely, tying it on and tucking it immediately under her blouse. “It’s very unique. Does it have any … occult significance? I know you like that kind of thing.”

Annabel probably classified anything from reading horoscopes to outright Satanism as “that kind of thing,” but she was being terribly good about this. Mae went behind her mother’s chair and then leaned down and circled her shoulders with both arms, giving her a brief squeeze.

Annabel’s back went rigid, but she put a hand on Mae’s arm, so Mae couldn’t tell if she was embarrassed or pleased by the gesture.

She let go, but before she did she whispered into her mother’s ear, “It keeps away bad dreams.”

She remembered that in the night, when she dreamed that her father was at the window, saying that he was sorry and he loved them and he wanted to come home. Mae didn’t open the window because she knew better than to believe her father, even in a dream, and then there were ravens at her window, there was a storm, there was something waiting outside for her and it was angry.

She woke up dreaming of a thunderclap loud enough to splinter the sky, and found herself lying in a bed full of broken glass.

The window was shattered. There was nothing outside but the night.

Mae went downstairs and made herself some coffee. It was fine, she told herself. She was fine. She could get a new talisman from Alan today.

She sat there with her coffee going cold until Jamie came downstairs. His face hardened when he saw her.

“Didn’t hear you come in last night,” Mae said. “Where were you?”

“Where d’you think?” Jamie asked. “Gerald says he’ll meet us all after school.”

“Oh he does, does he?” Mae inquired. “And it took you the whole evening to make the appointment?”

Jamie went red. “I can hang around with whoever I want,” he muttered. “You are.”

It hurt that he was ready to be angry without letting her explain; it hurt that he’d kept what was happening with Gerald from her, and kept the magic from her before that. Mae held her coffee cup tight.

“Yeah,” she said. “Guess I am.”

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