Emotions cascaded over them both in a rapid, fluid torrent. It was as if a five-minute argument were passing in three seconds, her face changing, his responding, causing a shift of her mood that was reflected in his body language. He carefully manipulated her, this demon who had removed the sanctity of the church without a second thought, who had turned a triple blood-circle to her will - something that I had been told was impossible but of which Ceri had known Newt was fully capable. I didn't know whom to be more frightened of - Newt, who could plague the world, or Minias, who controlled her.
"Please," he asked when her face shifted to chagrin and her black eyes dropped.
Hesitating briefly, she reached into the pocket of her expansive sleeve and handed him a fistful of vials.
"How many did you invoke when you remembered?" he asked, the vials clattering.
Newt's eyes went to the floor, beaten, but the sly look to her demeanor told me she wasn't sorry about it. "I don't recall."
He jiggled them in his hand before pocketing them, clearly seeing her unrepentant mood. "There are four missing."
She looked at him, real tears showing. "It hurts," she said, scaring the crap out of me. Newt had inflicted her own memory loss? What had she remembered that she didn't want to?
Ceri was standing beside me, almost forgotten, and she slumped, telling me that it was almost done. I wondered how often she had seen this played out.
His mood easing, Minias pulled Newt close, the purple of his robe curving around her. Newt folded her arms against herself and let him hold her, her eyes shut and her head tucked under his chin. They looked elegant and self-possessed standing in their strongly colored robes and proud stances. I wondered how I could ever have doubted Newt's gender. It was so clear now, and I spared a thought that perhaps she had subtly shifted her appearance. Seeing them together made a shudder ripple over me. Minias was the only thing holding Newt to her sanity. I didn't think he was just her familiar. I don't think he had ever been just anything.
"You shouldn't take them," he whispered, his breath brushing her forehead. His voice was captivating, moving up and down like music.
"It hurts," she said, her own voice muffled.
"I know." His demonic eyes locked with mine, and I shivered. "That's why I don't like it when you go out without me," he said, looking at me but talking to her. "You don't need them." Breaking our eye contact, Minias turned her face to his, his hand cupping her strong jawline.
My arms wrapped around my middle, I wondered how long they had been together. Long enough that a forced burden became one willingly shouldered?
"I don't want to remember," Newt said. "The things I've done - "
A demon with a conscience? Why not? They did have souls.
"Don't," Minias said, interrupting her. He held her more gently. "Promise you'll tell me the next time you remember something instead of going looking for answers?"
Newt nodded, then stiffened in his arms. "That's where I was," she whispered, and my gut clenched at the sound of realization in her voice. Minias froze, and beside me Ceri paled.
"It was in your journals!" Newt exclaimed, pushing him away. Minias fell back, wary, but the demon was beyond noticing. "You've been writing it down. You've written down everything I remember! How much do you have in your books, Minias? How much do you know that I wanted to forget!"
"Newt..." he warned, his fingers fumbling in his pocket.
"I found them! "Newt shouted. "You know why I'm here! Tell me why am i over here!"
I jumped when Ceri gripped my arm. Shouting in rage, Newt swung her staff at him. Minias's fingers danced in the air as if babbling in sign language, forming a ley line spell. I felt a huge drop as someone pulled on the line out back, and with a surprising shout, Minias ended his spell by popping the lid to a vial he'd taken from Newt and flinging it at her.
Newt cried out in dismay as the sparkles hung in the air, her anger, frustration, and pain shocking in their depth. And then the potion hit her, and her face went blank.
Sliding to a stop, she blinked, glancing over the empty sanctuary with no recognition in her gaze as it landed on Ceri and me. She saw Minias, then threw her staff to the floor as if it were a snake. It hit with a clatter and bounced. Outside, past the stained-glass windows, the robins were singing in the predawn haze, but in here it was as if the air were dead.
"Minias?" she said, her tone confused and dismayed.
"It's done," he said gently. He came forward, scooping up her staff and handing it to her.
"Did I hurt you?" Her voice was worried, and when Minias shook his head, relief spilled over her, quickly turning to depression.
I felt sick.
"Take me home," the demon said, glancing at me. "My head hurts."
"Wait for me." Minias's gaze flicked to mine, then returned to her. "We'll go together."
Ceri held her breath as the demon approached us, his face down and wide shoulders hunched. I thought briefly about reinstating the circle but didn't. Minias stopped before me, too close for comfort. His tired eyes took in my nightclothes, Ceri's blood staining my hands, and the three circles that had nearly failed to stop Newt. His gaze rose to encompass the interior of the sanctuary, with my desk, Ivy's piano, and the stark emptiness between them. "You were the one who stole Ceri from her demon?" he asked, surprising me.
I wanted to explain that it had been a rescue, not stealing her, but I just nodded.
His head moved up and down once, mocking me, and I fixed on his eyes. The red was so dark that they looked brown, and the characteristic demonic sideways pupil gave me pause.
"Your blood kindled the curse," he said, his red, goat-slitted eyes darting to the blood circle beside me. "She told me about shoving you through the lines last winter." His eyes traveled over me, evaluating. "No wonder Al is interested in you. Do you have anything that might have attracted her?"
"Other than the favor I owe her?" I said, my voice shaking. "I don't think so."
His eyes dropped to the elaborate circle Ceri had drawn for me to contact him with. "If you think of anything, call me. I'll pick up the imbalance. I don't want her coming over here again."
Ceri's fingers on my arm tightened. Yeah, me neither, I thought.
"Stay here," he said as he turned away. "I'll be back to settle up."
Alarmed, I pulled from Ceri. "Whoa, hold up, demon boy. I don't owe you anything."
His eyebrows were high and mocking when he turned around. "I owe you, idiot. The sun is almost up. I have to get out of here. I'll be back when I can."
Ceri's eyes were wide. Somehow I didn't think that having a demon owe me a favor was a good thing. "Hey," I said, taking a step forward. "I don't want you just showing up. That's rude." And really scary.
He looked impatient to be away as he adjusted his clothing. "Yes, I know. Why do you think demons try to kill their summoners? You're crude, unintelligent, grasping hacks with no sense of social grace, demanding we cross the lines and pickup the cost?"
I warmed, but before I could tell him to shove it, he said, "I'll call first. You take the imbalance for that, since you asked for it."
I glanced at Ceri for guidance, and she nodded. The guarantee that he wouldn't show up while I was showering was worth it. "Deal," I said, hiding my hand so he wouldn't take it.
From behind him, Newt eyed me with her brow creased. Minias's steps were silent as he moved to take her elbow possessively, his worried eyes darting to mine. His head rose to look past Ceri and me to the open door, and I heard the lub-lub-lub of a cycle pulling into the carport. In the time between one heartbeat and the next, they vanished.
I slumped in relief. Ceri leaned against the piano, the flat of her arms getting blood on it. Her shoulders started to shake, and I put a hand on one, wanting nothing more than to do the same. From outside came the sudden silence of Ivy's bike turning off, and then her distinctive steps on the cement walk.
"So then the pixy says to the druggist," Jenks said, the clatter of his wings obvious. "Tax? I thought they stayed on by themselves!" The pixy laughed, the tinkling sound of it like wind chimes. "Get it, Ivy? Tax? Tacks?"
"Yes, I got it," she muttered, her pace shifting as she took the cement steps. "Good one, Jenks. Hey, the door is open."
The light coming into the church was eclipsed, and Ceri pulled herself up, wiping her face and smearing it with blood, tears, and dirt from her garden. I could smell the stink of burnt amber on me and throughout the church, and I wondered if I would ever feel clean again. Together we stood, numb, as Ivy halted just past the foyer. Jenks hovered for three seconds, and then, dropping swear words like the golden sparkles he was shedding, he tore off in search of his wife and kids.
Ivy put a hand on her cocked hip and took in the three - no, four - circles made of blood, me in my pj's and Ceri crying silently, her hand sticky with drying blood clutching her crucifix.
"What on God's green earth did you do now?"
Wondering if I'd ever sleep again, I glanced at Ceri. "I have no idea."