Chapter Four

Once again, I found myself at that second attic door, but this time the key turned easily in the lock, and the door just swung open with a slight click. And I stood there staring for quite a while. What had been bare attic space when we moved in had been converted, some time without my knowing, into a very modernized, almost space-age looking, living space. Everything was either black or chrome, with the exception of electric blue accents that matched the stunning shade of the carpet. The same shade as Brian's hair had been.

From what I could see, it was sort of a studio apartment type of space, with a bedroom of sorts sectioned off with a half-wall that flowed into a living room that flowed into a tiny kitchen. The rest was walled off; I guessed for a bathroom.

"What the hell, Brian…?"

There was a slight sound of movement from the "bedroom" area. I stepped further inside to get a better look, and over the low wall caught a glimpse of electric blue hair against black silk pillowcases. My heart jumped into my chest.

"Hello?"

Coming closer, so slowly, it was like a dream. I could make out Brian's unmistakable features, his soft lips, high cheekbones, long eyelashes. I think I stopped breathing. The bed's occupant opened his eyes.

They were black. Solid, glossy black. No iris, no white, no pupil. Just cold, hard, fiery blackness.

I stepped back, shocked.

The thing in the bed curled its lips back at me, snarled, baring bright-white fangs. Brian's exact teeth, except for the canines, which were noticeably longer and sharper than any human's. Humans can't growl like that, either. A hand with long black claws at the end of slender fingers threw back the covers, still snarling indignantly at me. I was frozen in that moment, staring at my lover's flawless body, so classically and gorgeously bare, only…

Brian never had wings, torn and bony, dragon-like, that he fanned out threateningly at me as he got up from the mattress. Brian never had a row of small, sharp spines along his back, going down his spine to the place where Brian never had a long tail that thrashed about in an expression of pure irritation.

I'm not ashamed to say I turned tail and ran then. Turned and bolted out of the upstairs flat, locked the door behind me. Who the hell wouldn't?

I had Maxwell goddamned Demon living in my attic.

-+-

I spent the rest of the night, the early hours of the morning, either shaking from nightmares if I fell asleep or just plain shaking. Maxwell Demon. Upstairs. Perfectly silent, not even footsteps, but how was I to trust that?

I had to get rid of him. Had to. There were so many reasons. How he'd changed Brian. What he'd done to our relationship. How he treated me, Brian's wife, Jerry, just people in general. How he forced Brian into madness great enough to commit suicide. How I was terrified of him.

Everything made so much sense now. Poor Brian. Who could take that pressure? Who could live with something like that in the back of their mind all the time? His little quirks clicked perfectly now.

And I could make some sense out of his last words to me. "I am praying you will better be able to handle it," "The garnet cast out demons." Maxwell had to be stopped. And Brian had chosen me to do it.

It's amazing how when something clicks, it really clicks. I somehow knew that Brian wouldn't just send me into this unprepared, and I went to find that black velvet jewelry box that had been in the gold wrapping. What should I find inside but a leather collar, inlaid with pieces of garnet?

The knife was my idea.

-+-

By the next night, I had worked up the courage to return to the attic. Armed with the collar and my knife, I unlocked the door silently, looking around. I couldn't see the Demon from there. I had to come further inside.

Walking quietly, knife in hand, I moved a bit further inside. I noticed the lights were quite a bit dimmer than when I came in before, and it made me anxious. Like he was expecting me. Like he was trying to throw me off.

But no, I found him in bed again, and this time I caught him asleep. God, he almost looked innocent. Almost. Except for the fact that I could see the spines running up his neck, it could have been Brian sleeping in that bed.

I remembered then I had no plan on how I was going to get the collar on him and tight without waking him up. He was bound to wake up. And then he'd kill me. I almost backed out, then. A sane person would have.

A person mad with grief and anger would unbuckle the collar, start to slip one end carefully around the sleeping Demon's neck.

It brushed his skin and he twitched. Flinched, almost. Working carefully, I got the thing to where I could buckle it before I ran into trouble. The buckle rattled slightly as it slid over the eyes laid into the collar, and those black eyes shot open.

Everything happened fast then. No more of this sweating and dreading and shaking and trying to be still and quiet and not lose my nerve. Maxwell snarled and swiped at me with a clawed hand. I stabbed the knife forward with one hand and pulled the collar down chokingly tight with the other.

The knife sank into his shoulder, but the sound I heard was him gagging from the collar. He flinched, and that moment gave me the split second I needed to fully fasten the buckle, and dart out the door again.

Scratched and bleeding, but flooded with relief and this fuckin' crazy triumph, I made it back to my level of the apartment alive.