"You won't die from that mistake," I said simply. "But we will."

"Not you," Grant said, so quietly I barely heard him. But that had to be wishful thinking on his part. I hadn't said a word about not feeling well, but Grant had to know, just from looking at me. Jack, too. When he turned away from me, jaw tense, I had no doubt at all.

I'm sick, I thought, filled with dread. All I could think about was that Mahati who had died in the snow; and Grant, puking in the sink. I'm sick, too.

But for how long, really? Had the thing that lived inside me saved my daughter just to let me die, too? That wasn't part of the bargain.

I could make other bargains.

You have nothing left, whispered that sibilant voice, floating through me like a flake of drifting ash. And a Queen does not beggar herself for nothing.

I closed my eyes. Grant's hand found mine and squeezed.

"How long do I have?" he asked Jack.

My grandfather tugged hard on his beard; I heard a m.u.f.fled squeak from inside that tangle of hair. "I don't know, lad. It works fast on demons, we've seen that. But you're still alive. Mary is still strong. Maybe it will burn itself out."

"I infected a demon-possessed waitress in Texas," I told them, glancing at my phone, which was on the couch beside me. "Another of her possessed friends texted me five minutes ago. Her host was just taken to the hospital. The parasite itself already fled."

I hadn't wanted to share that information. The room got very quiet. Grant said, "It doesn't benefit the Aetar to make something that destroys humans. You need their bodies, too."

Jack shook his head, all that rage leaving him, deflating his entire body until he sagged like a sock puppet against the wall. "We have billions of humans on other worlds. Worlds upon worlds upon worlds that we control. Earth is nothing to us but a historical footnote in an otherwise tedious existence. And it is easy to quarantine a world. They have no fear that this will spread."

"And if it did, they would be highly motivated to develop a cure," I said. "The Aetar don't want to lose their toys."

He gave me a sharp look. "My dear girl-"

"It was bad enough when it was the demons," I interrupted him. "But I can't take the risk that it'll wipe out humans, too. Even if it just kills a fraction of the population, that's too many."

Grant jerked and fumbled for the garbage bin. He barely reached it before he started vomiting. The little Shurik who had been hiding under his shirt-so quiet I had almost forgotten it was there-made a small, hissing sound. So did Dek and Mal, hugging my throat and quivering. Or maybe I was the one who was shaking.

Raw and Aaz scrambled to Grant and the garbage bin. I was already leaning over him. Not touching but close enough to give what comfort I could.

And that wasn't much at all. I felt so helpless. There was nothing to fight here. Nothing I could threaten or destroy. Disease had no voice, except for the voice of the man I loved. Disease was the ultimate possessor. A demon, all its own.

But I was good at fighting demons. Somehow, I'd fight this one. My daughter was going to have her father. I was going to have my husband. If I accomplished nothing else, it would be those two things.

I stood up. Grant tensed, trying to sit up with me. Raw and Aaz made annoyed, clicking sounds with their tongues, and pushed him back down. Dek bit into the remains of his teddy bear and slithered into my husband's lap with it.

"Can you make a cure?" I asked Grant.

He swallowed hard. Aaz dragged a bottle of Gatorade from beneath the couch and pushed it into his hand. "I wouldn't know where to start."

I tried to smile. "Then try to rest. I won't be far."

Grant gave me a wary look. "Whenever you say that . . . all h.e.l.l breaks loose."

"I say a lot of things that precede bloodshed." I bent to kiss him gently on the mouth. "But I always come home to you."

He caught the back of my head and held me close, turning so that his face was buried in my neck. His skin was hot-but then, so was I. Standing wasn't as easy as it should have been.

"Love you," he whispered. "Sorry I haven't been myself."

I ran my fingers through his hair. "I'll beat you up when you're better."

He snorted and fell back against the couch, too exhausted to touch me for even another moment. I pulled back his shirt and looked at the pale little Shurik clinging to his chest.

"You," I said, in a cold voice. "If you and your kind value this man, then you will get those Yorana in f.u.c.king line, do you hear me? Because if he dies, you die. They all die."

The Shurik bared its sharp little mouth and gurgled at me. Zee muttered, "It understands."

"Good." I leaned close, battling a clammy surge of squeamish disgust. "Grant believes in you. I think he might even love you little t.u.r.ds. So you G.o.dd.a.m.n better deserve it. Protect him. Give him your strength. Give him what he needs. Or else I'll kill you."

This time the Shurik reared up and hissed at me. Zee snapped his teeth, and it shrank back just a little-but there was still something defiant in the twist of its flesh.

Zee snorted. "Tells you that honor and loyalty is Shurik heart."

I narrowed my eyes. "I don't think that's all it said."

"Also called you stupid."

"That's better." I looked at Grant, who laid a calming hand inside his shirt. The Shurik snuggled against his palm like a cat. Either I was getting brainwashed, or maybe I just didn't give a s.h.i.t anymore, but seeing that didn't immediately make me want to vomit in my mouth. Probably a bad sign. "Did you understand what it was saying?"

"Not the specifics," said Grant, with the faintest of amused smiles. "But I could feel its intent. That was enough."

I kissed him again and backed away. "Jack, I need a word with you."

My grandfather looked at me like I was going to punch him in the nuts. But he followed me out of the farmhouse without a word, and the boys came with us, prowling the length of the porch and perching on the rail. Night hadn't completely fallen. The horizon held the faintest light of dusk, bleeding into the dark sky, washing out the stars just now gracing the night.

"What did you learn from that giant's head? Who made it?"

"The answer doesn't do us any good. The creature was designed by the Erl-King. You and I both know he's dead."

Dead years ago, by my hand-and Grant's. What a b.a.s.t.a.r.d. "How's that possible?"

"We've been engineering life for millions of years, my dear. The Erl-King had plenty of time to make those creatures before his imprisonment. No doubt they've been breeding on some Aetar-controlled planet and thought they were doing the work of their G.o.ds by coming here to attack you and Grant."

I still didn't like the coincidence. "How many Aetar are there?"

"Now?" Jack thought a moment. "Before the war with the Lightbringers, we were a tribe that was one hundred and ninety-three strong. Now, our numbers have dwindled to a mere eighty-four."

It surprised me, hearing such an exact count. And how it seemed to be a number at odds with itself-large enough to feel dangerous to me, given what the Aetar were capable of-but small, too, when I thought that this was all that was left, forever. No ability to breed. No possibilities. Nothing but eternity.

No wonder Jack's kind clung so violently to mortal flesh-it kept them sane, gave them the illusion of life, death, evolution. They could have children-even if those children would never truly outlive them. They could pretend to have lives. Live the fantasy. Be the fantasy.

"Do you feel when they're close?" I asked him. "I know you feel their deaths."

Jack looked uncomfortable. "Yes. I can feel when my kind are near."

I stared at him. "And?"

"There is an Aetar on this world," he said, with some exasperation. "I can't tell you who or where."

"Can the others kill you?"

The question seemed to surprise him. "No."

"But they can imprison you. They've done it to others."

"Yes, and yes." Jack gripped the porch rail. "You want me to go to them?"

"Do you have any allies? Like Sarai?"

A rueful, bitter smile touched his mouth. "Of course. I suppose you're asking me to foment a rebellion? For what? Our greatest enemies?"

"For what's right," I told him. "And if that's not enough, then do it for me. And for your great-granddaughter."

"And Jeannie," he murmured, turning away from me-but not before his expression crumbled, ravaged by terrible grief. It made me think of Grant, the possibility of losing him, and I hurried off the porch before he could turn back around and see my face.

"Where are you going?" he called after me.

"For a walk." I managed to turn around and smile for him. "Don't look so scared."

Jack pushed away from the rail. "Maxine."

I started to run.

CHAPTER 14.

I wasn't entirely human.

My ancestors had been tampered with. Treated like animals in an experiment that resulted in a bloodline meant to serve only one purpose: to be a living prison for five of the most dangerous demons in existence. Five creatures responsible for the deaths of worlds. Five hearts filled with such hunger and rage that even those who considered themselves G.o.ds (the same G.o.ds who had ma.s.sacred billions for their own entertainment) could not fathom their cruelty.

What no one expected . . . what no one could have counted on . . . was that the prison made for those five demons would be the path to their redemption. That even they could have a change of heart.

The heart is powerful.

The heart is a weapon.

I didn't stop running until I reached the woods.

It felt good. I needed the swing and rush of my body flying across the land and the pulse of the boys thudding alongside me like wolves in the night. My footing was solid, my stride strong-I raced headlong into the darkness, nearly blind, and my thoughts scattered in a million different directions, trying to hold on to some idea, some truth, anything that would give me the answers I needed.

Dek and Mal sang, their voices twining as close and warm as their bodies around my neck. I looked up and saw the stars, like a scattering of diamonds, and a terrible longing pounded through my heart, a feeling of homesickness, and despair.

We have slept too long, whispered the darkness inside me. The road sings, and we are hungry for dreams.

Help me, I asked, ashamed and desperate. I don't know what to do.

You are the Hunter. I felt its cold smile press against my lips, and a terrible bottomless hunger crawled through me. Even darkness cannot hide from you.

I thought I was being teased, but instead of infuriating me, all I felt was resolve: an intoxicating, deadly conviction.

Yes, I could do this.

Yes, I believed. Even if it only lasted as long as this moment, that belief was everything, my entire world. It was power.

My left hand touched my stomach.

"It's okay," I muttered breathlessly, knowing some part of my daughter would hear and understand, even four months formed. "Mommy is good at impossible things."

Which was a lie. But for her, I could learn to be good at anything.

It was loud under the trees, but only because my heart was pounding so hard, it filled my ears with thunder. I saw flickers of movement, slender silver bodies slipping around the trees, but none came close. I thought again about the video playing on the news but couldn't muster even the same iota of concern I'd felt just yesterday. If humans knew about the demons-well, f.u.c.k it. I just wanted us to survive the week without vomiting our guts out.

Dizziness. .h.i.t. I leaned against a tree, then clung to it. The moment I was still, I felt that fever gouge me-burning my skin. Pain crept up the back of my neck into my skull. Dek and Mal began kneading my shoulders with their little vestigial arms.

"I'm sick," I said to Zee.

"In us, too," he replied, dragging his claws through the dirt. "But, bodies strong. Bodies fight. Bodies burn it out."

"You can heal yourselves?"

"Already healing." Zee shrugged. "Aetar not stronger than our blood."

Relief filled me, but it was tainted with envy. Raw and Aaz pushed close, holding my hands. Zee tilted his head, studying me.

"I'm sorry," I said, ashamed I couldn't be more generous with my thoughts and emotions.

"No need," rasped the little demon, with terrible gentleness. "Not now, not ever. We already burn some from you, in sleep. We burn more, when we sleep again. Keep you, little light, safe."

I sagged against the tree. I didn't know how our physiologies were bound together, just that the boys were more than tattoos when they were on my body-they were part of me, as much a part of me as my own blood and bones. In times of starvation, they could nourish me. If I were thrust to the bottom of the sea, they could breathe for me. I should have known they could heal me, too.

But if I was still sick, even after their protection, Grant couldn't have much longer.

Just like that, exhaustion set in, tearing through me like a bomb. I'd never felt so drained, so fast. I sank down to the hard, uneven ground, and Raw and Aaz crawled into my lap. Zee hung back, looking into the trees, his expression thoughtful.

How do we survive this? I asked myself. How do we all come out alive?

I stared up through the trees, catching glimpses of the sky. I'd been alone for so long, sometimes it was difficult to remember I had friends, allies, people I could call on for help. Even now, desperate, I could still forget.