Sarah Brennan - The Demon's Covenant

“I have enough,” Nick said. Then he smiled, sudden and wild. “Or do you want to try me?”

“I wouldn’t make any threats, demon,” Laura said. “Do you have enough to protect your human allies every moment of the day? Watch your tongue when you talk to our leader. Some night when you’re asleep we could come into your house and tear the human boy apart in his bed.”

The whole sky went black. The magicians went flying backward, Laura and the stranger hitting the wall so hard it was clear Nick did not care if they broke. Gerald hit the ground.

Nick was on his feet and towering over Gerald in one movement.

“You can’t do anything if I kill you all now,” Nick told him, his voice echoing and rolling like thunder.

He lifted a hand, and Gerald made a thin sound, as if Nick was wielding an invisible sword and slicing into him. He was pinned and struggling desperately on the earth. Nick laughed.

Jamie dived forward and caught Nick’s wrist. Nick whirled around, lifting Jamie off his feet for a moment.

“Whose side are you on ?” he roared.

“The side of not wanting anybody to get hurt!” Jamie yelled back.

“So not mine,” snapped Nick. He shoved Jamie clear across the alley and into Mae.

Mae caught his weight, even though it made her stagger, and held on even though he struggled, her arm tight around his heaving ribs. Nick spun back to where Gerald lay, and the wind howled. The other two magicians were scrambling to their feet, Laura looking pale with pain, magic starting to shimmer between their palms. Over the wall Mae could see gray tombstones poking out of the earth like a leering mouth full of broken and decayed teeth. She could see Nick’s face in profile, the hungry swing of his eyes from face to face, like the swing of his sword when he was fighting. She didn’t know what he was going to do.

She had entirely forgotten that Alan was there. She remembered with a vengeance when he limped forward, grabbed a handful of thick black hair, and pulled Nick’s head back. A small, wicked knife glinted in the shadowed space between Nick’s shirt collar and throat.

Nick drew in a short, sharp breath and went still.

“Stop that,” Alan said in his ear. “They came here to talk to Jamie. How do you think Jamie will feel if you slaughter them all?”

Nick made a low snarl of protest that Mae guessed did not indicate deep concern about Jamie’s emotional state.

“She said—”

“Don’t listen to her,” said Alan. “Listen to me. Stop. Now .”

The thunder made a low complaining sound and died away. Alan stepped back and slid the knife into his pocket, then reached out and offered Gerald a hand up. Gerald took it.

Nick went over to the wall and leaned his forehead against the gray bricks, teeth set. The clouds were slipping away slowly; the dark fingers of the storm curled around the sky as if they did not want to let go.

Mae felt much the same, but she released her hold on Jamie. He stumbled a few paces toward Gerald.

“I’m sorry,” he began. “I didn’t know—Alan said he only wanted to talk.”

“And I do,” Alan agreed calmly. “I apologize for Nick’s behavior.”

“I apologize for Laura’s,” Gerald told him, voice just as smooth and friendly. They stood clasping hands for another moment. They both had blue eyes, Mae noticed: Alan’s dark and Gerald’s light and bright. Alan’s crinkled behind his glasses as he smiled, and Gerald smiled back. “I have no intention of harming anyone,” he assured Alan. “All I want is a word in private.”

“I’ll give you a word in public,” Alan said, still smiling. “No.”

Gerald blinked. Alan dropped his hand and stepped back.

The storm was clearing fast out of the sky now, clouds spiraling as if they were going down some unseen drain. Nick was leaning against the wall with his arms folded over his chest.

“I wanted to talk,” Alan went on. “This is what I have to say: Leave Jamie alone. Get out of Exeter. Or I’ll turn your Circle over to Celeste Drake.”

Gerald kept smiling, betraying no more than he had by that first blink, but Laura went a little pale.

“I’m not scared of Celeste.”

“No?” Alan asked. “You should be. You’re the leader of the Obsidian Circle now, aren’t you? I’m sorry, I hadn’t thought. Should we be using a title for you now? As a mark of respect?”

“Yes, I’m the leader,” said Gerald. “And no. I thought—” He flashed a rueful smile at Jamie, and Mae was outraged to see Jamie smile hesitantly back. “Well, I didn’t think Black Gerald sounded exactly fearsome.”

“New leader,” Alan observed. “You’re very young. You lost about half your Circle when you lost your leader. You’ve been losing more since then, your best people leaving for more stable Circles. You’re desperately trying to recruit new magicians. And the Aventurine Circle is out for your blood. What do you have going for you, Gerald?”

“You have no idea ,” the strange magician said hotly, “what he can do. He—”

“Ben, be quiet!” Gerald snapped.

The stranger—Ben—looked embarrassed and bowed his head, flushing faintly pink. Mae looked at him and remembered what the messenger had said about Gerald’s new mark.

“I think my best people have stayed with me,” said Gerald, and there was a firmness about his tone that made Mae understand for a moment why people might be loyal to him: There was a substance to him that she hadn’t seen in Black Arthur, terrifyingly and deliberately impressive though he’d been. “And I could mention that you don’t have anyone left on your side but a demon that could turn against you at any moment, Alan—but I’m sure you’ve been thinking about that yourself.”

“I’m on his side,” Mae snapped.

“A demon that could turn against you at any moment, and a human girl who can’t do magic or fight,” Gerald corrected himself. “Not an impressive list of allies, but that doesn’t matter. I don’t mean you any harm, Alan. Nor do any of my Circle. You don’t need to be worried.”

“Oh, I’m not,” Alan said blandly.

“I do not intend to leave Jamie here among people who do not understand him and will turn on him in a moment when his secret slips out. Which it will, someday. Someday very soon. He’s strong. Do you think his parents will react well once they know what he is? He belongs with his own kind!”

“I don’t think Jamie asked for your help,” Alan pointed out.

“Did he ask for yours?” Gerald countered. “He is a magician. His welfare is my concern. It is none of your business, and I will certainly not leave one of my own completely at the mercy of a demon!”

“That’s sweet,” said Nick. “The fact that you’ve put a spell on Jamie makes it not terribly convincing, but apart from that small detail, I found it a really touching speech.”

Gerald’s eyes went to Jamie.

“Hey,” he said. “You know I wouldn’t hurt you, don’t you?”

Jamie looked down. “I don’t know.”

That was when Laura threw a spell at Jamie, sudden as lightning springing between them, magic rising like a pet bird from her palm. It streaked through the air, swift and bright. Mae ran forward and knew the brilliant deadly thing would strike before she could get to him.

The magic bounced off Jamie and earthed itself harmlessly in the ground at his feet.

Jamie jumped back all the same, and Mae found him catching her hands, grip desperate for a moment until he remembered himself. Then he stepped away.

“Thanks, Laura,” he said unsteadily. “I always wondered what a tiny heart attack would feel like, and now I know. Very refreshing!”

He was still shaking a little. Mae’s hand itched to grab him again, to hold him and keep him safe, but he’d already turned away from her.