The Demon's Covenant

against his jaw, rows of sharp teeth glinting close to his skin.

“We kept our part of the bargain, didn’t we, Hnikarr?” she asked. “You went into that baby and we guarded you. We came every time you called us at the Goblin Market. We came for you. Didn’t we?”

“You did,” said Nick.

“Good,” Liannan murmured, as if she was a teacher incredibly pleased that her student had given her the right answer. She leaned her face into the curve of Nick’s throat, not touching but close, her profile looking a little less like something carved on a coin. “I’ll always come for you,” she whispered. “Even though you have no soul to share with me.”

Nick said nothing.

“You owe us,” Liannan reminded him sweetly. “You remember how cold it is. You won’t leave us out in the cold.”

She kissed him again, on the line of his jaw, more a nip than a kiss. Her lips left a frosty mark with pink rising underneath, as if her mouth was so cold it burned.

Nick turned his face away.

“You could choose them, if you liked.” She reached up and tried to turn his face toward her, icicles iridescent in his black hair, bloody lines scored along his cheek. “Choose me any body you want.”

“It’s not like you can keep them long,” Nick said, still looking away, his jaw tight. “The bodies die. Someone will notice if I spread death everywhere I go.”

Mae sat down heavily on the back doorstep and hugged her knees to her chest, chilled and alone, the only human there.

“Let them notice,” Liannan murmured. “Wear death like a garment. It looks good on you.” She smiled. “Always did.”

“I agree with Hnikarr. We want someone with no family,” whispered Anzu. The scarlet feather patterns in his golden hair seemed to melt and spread like blood, dyeing his hair almost red. “Someone with no friends. Someone who won’t ever be missed by anyone at all.”

He arched his neck, putting himself on display, and the balefire circled his head and made his face shine as it changed.

The bones shifted, his face went thinner and paler, his eyes turned blue. His hair was really red now.

Nick made a low sound in the back of his throat.

Anzu looked like Alan and not like Alan, the planes and angles of his face a little too sharp, the red hair the heavy dark color of arterial blood. He looked like a cruel, beautiful version of Alan, and he smiled a smile that wasn’t Alan’s at all.

“I want this body,” said Anzu.

Nick snarled, “No.”

“Drop it,” Liannan told Anzu sharply.

That didn’t have the desired effect at all. Nick wheeled on her.

“And you,” he snarled. “What were you doing last night at the Goblin Market? What were you doing with my brother?”

Liannan looked at Nick and then, after a long pause, she laughed. She shook out her hair, and it flared up like a gust of flame. Her hair stayed suspended in midair, ignoring petty human concerns like gravity. The ends shimmered with what really seemed to be fire, sparking along the strands, burning but never burning out.

“He didn’t tell you?” she asked, and smiled, displaying a sharp row of teeth.

“I suggest you tell me,” said Nick. “Now.”

“By your brother,” Liannan continued, her voice soft, “who do you mean?”

“You know who I mean!”

Liannan moved away, almost dancing, hair a burning banner. “Even the bodies aren’t related, are they? Different parents. Not a single drop of blood shared. And you are not this body. You are not human. So how is he your brother? In what possible sense is he your brother?”

Nick strode over lines glowing with magic as if they weren’t there. He grasped the demon’s burning hair in his hands, handled it like a whip, and wrapped it tight around her long neck.

He leaned down to whisper in her ear. Loose strands of her hair rose where there was no wind and opened up bloody stripes on his cheek, but he did not relax his strangling grip. He did not seem to notice.

“In what sense?” he repeated, his voice colder than hers. “In the sense that he’s mine!”

“I have had enough!” Anzu shouted. “Stop trying to talk him around, Liannan. Accept the fact that he’s a traitor.”

“It’s all right if Nick wants to have a pet,” said Liannan. “It’s not unheard of, you know.”

“Have a pet?” Anzu echoed. “He is a pet! He could do anything in the world, he could rule the humans, he could slaughter every one of the magicians who feed us on crumbs, he could help his own kind! And instead, what does he do?”

Nick didn’t spare Anzu even a glance. He was still looking at Liannan.

“Just tell me what you did,” he said.

Nick’s hands were tangled up in Liannan’s hair. He made no move to untangle them, to defend himself, when