Running with the Demon - Terry Brooks [149]
She chambered a shell with a quick, practiced movement of her hands, checked to make certain the safety was on, and smiled wryly. That would be the day.
Shotgun in hand, she exited the closet and moved back through the house. She stopped off in Nest’s room long enough to scribble a few words on a piece of notebook paper, which she then tucked under her granddaughter’s favorite down pillow. Satisfied that she had done what she could, she advanced down the hallway on mouse paws, listening to the silence, feeling the tension within her beginning to mount. It would happen quickly now. She was glad Robert was not there, that she did not have to worry about him. By the time he returned with Nest, it would be over. She wasn’t really worried about the girl, despite the urgency of her admonition to Robert to find her. Nest was better protected than any of them; she had seen to that. The monster that had appeared to threaten her didn’t know the half of it.
She emerged from the house with the shotgun pressed against her side where it could not be clearly seen, and she stopped just beyond the screen door to survey the darkness beyond, her senses alert. Nothing had changed. He was not there yet. Only the feeders had gathered. She moved down the porch to where her rocker was situated, leaned the gun up against the wall in the deep shadows, and settled herself comfortably in place.
Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I shall fear no evil...
The demon would come for her. It would come for her because it hated her for what she had done to it all those years ago and because she was the one human it feared. Odd, that it should still feel this way, now that she was old and frail and virtually powerless. She wondered at the symmetry of life, at the ways the good and the bad of what you did came back to repay you, to reveal you. She had made so many mistakes, but she had made good choices, too. Robert, for openers. He had loved her through everything, even when Caitlin’s death had shattered her and her drinking and smoking had left her dissipated and hollowed out and bereft of peace. And Nest, linked to her by blood and magic, the image of herself as a girl, but stronger and more controlled. She closed her eyes momentarily, thinking of her granddaughter. Nest, sweet child, who stood unseeing at the center of the maelstrom that was about to commence.
“Good evening, Evelyn.”
Her eyes snapped open, raking the dark. She recognized his voice instantly, the smooth, insinuating lilt rising softly out of the heat. He was standing just off the walk, not quite close enough that she could see him clearly.
She tried to still the shaking inside, rocking slowly to settle her fear. “You took your time,” she said.
“Well, tune has never been of much concern to me.” She could feel as much as see his smile. “It’s too bad you can’t say the same, Evelyn. You have grown quite old.”
She was briefly angry, but she kept her voice calm. “Well, I don’t pretend to be something I’m not, either. I’m pretty well content with being who I am. I’ve learned to live with myself. I doubt that you can say the same.”
The demon chuckled, crossing his arms on his chest. “Oh, that’s a terrible lie, Evelyn! Shame on you! You hate yourself! You hate your life!” The laugh died away. “That’s why you drink and smoke and hide out in your house, isn’t it? It wasn’t like that before. You should have embraced the magic in the same way I did, years ago, when you were still young and pretty and talented. You had that chance, and you gave it up. You gave me up as well. Look at what it’s cost you. So, please. I think