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“But he wasn’t family oriented,” he says softly. “Not exactly, anyway.”
I wait for him. He straightens up, his shoulders squaring as he looks up at me.
“Anyway,” he continues. “He was desperately in love with his wife, and when he realized there was a pretty good chance that she was going to die, he prayed and prayed that she would be okay. But your God didn’t really come through.”
Luke stares at him, his eyes narrow, a humorless smile on his face. “Keep going, demon. I’m very interested.”
Despite the accusation in his words, my gaze flits to Malon. I don’t think that Malon looks like a demon. He looks like a man, a tired one. His teeth are really white, much whiter than his pale skin. His eyes look a dark green, his head cocked. “He lost what little faith he had,” Malon says. “When that happens, people get desperate. He decided to call on us. On me, specifically.”
“And who are you, exactly?” Luke says.
For the first time since this conversation started, a flash of anger passes through Malon’s eyes. “Does it matter?”
“I’m sure it does,” Luke replies. “Trine might believe everything you’re saying, but I don’t want to hear your half-truths without knowing who you are.”
He seems to catch himself as soon as he says that. I watch his throat work as he swallows. “I’m sorry, Trine,” he says, still not looking at me. “I don’t mean that as an insult.”
“It’s fine,” I say. It’s not fine, I’m angry, but this isn’t the time to talk about it. I wish he would stop interfering and let Malon finish his story. I’m curious too, obviously, but this is the most I’ve heard from Malon ever. “Just let him finish. We can ask him questions later.”
I don’t miss the look that passes between Luke and Misha, but neither one of them says anything.
Malon waves his hand in front of his face. “Now, normally,” he says. “I would’ve been able to offer him what he wanted.”
“Can you tell us what that was?” Rei asks.
“His wife’s life for his child’s,” Malon says. There’s no real emotion in his speech, he’s talking about this as if he was talking about the weather. “But his child was going to die anyway, and I wasn’t able to save his wife. Itried. I just couldn’t.”
He does seem annoyed now.
“And then I just…I got comfortable in his body,” he says. “But after his whole family died, Malon didn’t want to live. So I decided to live here as he slowly faded away. Things were going fine. I was living his life, sowing discord wherever I could, going on my merry way. But…”
I look at him as he takes another deep, shaky breath.
“...then I was called to you,” he says, looking up at me. Our eyes meet. His mouth falls open and he exhales heavily from his mouth. “And, honestly, I thought this would scare you less than if you saw what I actually looked like.”
Curiosity is getting the better of me here. “What do you actually look like?” I ask.
A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. “Maybe I’ll show you soon,” he says. “If you really want me to.”
I kind of want him to. Before I can answer, though, Bryony quickly runs into the apartment. She looks worn, her cheeks red, her eyes wide.
“I don’t know what the fuck is going on,” she says, her voice bordering on terror. “But there’s something out here you need to see. All of you.”
REI
Idon’t know much about Trine’s best friend, but I know she looks incredibly distressed.
Trine doesn’t waste any time. She follows Bryony to the balcony, and I follow closely behind her. There’s a smell in the air which I can’t immediately identify, at least not at first. It takes me a little while to realize that this is fire.
Bryony is pointing down. She’s talking quickly, so quickly it’s hard for me to make sense of what she’s saying, and my heart catches in my throat as I see the look on Trine’s face.
It only takes me a few seconds to assess the situation. Below, in the parking lot, the rental car that Misha and Luke drove in is on fire. From the hood, I can see fire licking at the windshield, at the sidewalk.
“That’s not it,” Bryony says when she catches me looking at the car. Her gaze goes to another side of the parking lot. “That’s my car. And that’s our neighbor’s Cindy’s car.”
Okay, now I can see why she panicked. It isn’t just one car that’s on fire, it’s several, and the fire looks like it’s expanding. Things appear to be getting worse. As I watch, a little silver Kia catches on fire. It’s not a lot at first, and then fire licks around the tires, over the hood of the car.
“I already called 911, but this is really fucking weird,” Bryony says. I notice that she’s clutching her phone, her long nails scraping against the blackened screen. “They’re catching but not in…order.”
