The Demon's Covenant

answer the door. She peeked out the window and saw who it was before she came down the stairs and let Seb in.

“I thought maybe you could use a lift to school,” Seb said, car keys in hand. He almost dropped them at the sight of Nick and Jamie. “Hey,” he said warily. “What’s going on?”

“Nick is spotting me during my new exercise regimen,” Jamie announced, giving Seb the evil eye. “I wish to be more toned. And attractive. To men.”

Seb went a slow, horrified red.

Nick laughed, and Mae bit back a smile so he wouldn’t feel they were ganging up on him.

She was glad to see him. When she’d looked out the window, she’d known it was him and not Nick this time, and not just because Nick was already on her stairs. The memory of both of them was fresh with her, the way they stood, their exact heights. Seb looked totally different from Nick. He looked normal and lovely and like he couldn’t break her heart, and besides that, she hated walking to school.

“C’mon, let’s go,” she told him.

She opened the door to a beautiful summer morning, drenched in light.

Behind her, Nick said, “Might see you later.”

Today Nick said his first word: “chair.”

I have not written in this journal for some time. I didn’t like the thought of leaving Alan this record of misery.

Today is different from all other days. Nick said his first word today, his voice harsh, croaking like a raven rather than a child.

But he understood what he was saying. He said more than one word. Alan pointed to me and he said, “Dad.”

That stunned me more than the miracle, more than the demon with words in its mouth.

If I thought of him as anyone’s child, I thought of him as Arthur’s. But of course Nick has not seen Arthur for four years, of course Alan has been by his side all this time whispering words to him, telling him how the world is.

Alan has been sure that Nick is his brother, and that makes me his father.

The demon’s father.

I don’t feel like his father, but I cannot call him “it” anymore. I cannot forget the rush of happiness that came over me when I heard him talking and felt for the first time that there could be hope.

If he talks, if he can be that close to human, then I might have a real purpose at last.

I picked Nick up for the first time today. He’s getting far too heavy for Alan to carry. And Alan looked so happy when I did it.

I had to put him down after a few moments. Not because he was heavy, but because I could not bear to have those eyes and that still mask of a child’s face so close to mine. I do not know how Alan can bear it.

Alan’s so young. He didn’t know enough about babies to know what one should look like, and he’s used to Nick by now. Perhaps Nick looks human to him.

This evening before bedtime I saw Nick sitting by Alan as he usually does, an upside-down book held in his lap.

“Shall I read to you, Nick?” I asked, and I took the creature up again and put him in my lap. He tried to wriggle away as he always does with Alan, but I held him firmly, and he stopped struggling after a moment. Resting against my chest, he felt small and warm, like a real child. I concentrated on the story, kept my voice steady and even, and as I read, “The king of all wild things said … ,” Nick’s head dropped into the crook of my elbow and he was asleep.

I was not quite sure what to do next, and then I saw my son. He’d dropped his book and was standing looking at me and his brother. The look of hope and fear on his face made me want to throw the demon away, reach out and hold him close.

Instead I drew my fingers through Nick’s thick black hair. It wasn’t much, and it wasn’t so bad. Nick stirred but did not wake, and Alan smiled, tremulous but so happy.

“Come here, my darling,” I said, then reached out with my free hand and drew him to me. He came willingly, nestling into me as he has not since he was very small. “This is just the beginning,” I told him. “We have to think very carefully about what to do next.”

If a demon can be taught to be human, then I will have done something terribly important with my life.

I think that I started writing this as a way to keep my son, who has barred doors against me and always looks for another face first, who has not been all mine since he was four years old. I wanted him to have this after my death, because I had failed him in life so completely.

Now I have an idea of what I can do for him.

I held my son close and began to whisper plans, keeping the demon safe and warm in the circle of my arm.

Mae shut the book.

Nick had come into her music room after school, hurled the copybook at her feet, and moved to the window, fixing her with an expectant look. She’d promised to help him, so she had opened the book and hoped that Daniel Ryves wouldn’t try to murder or leave Nick this time.

She hadn’t thought it might help.

Nick wasn’t at the window like a guard standing braced for an attack anymore. He was sitting on the window