Chapter 9

Nick stared at himself in the mirror. Ever since his time in Hell, he didn't care much for shaving. He did, however, get pretty good at it. He splashed some water on his face and wiped it with a face towel before heading to his room. Sabrina was over by the TV putting a blu-ray into the player.

"I picked a good one. I think you'll really like it," she said as she headed over to his bed.

"What's this one about?" He asked as he laid back in his bed.

"These teenagers date over the summer and they're torn apart because they come from different backgrounds. He goes off to the war and writes to her everyday but she never writes back. Years later they find each other again and fall back in love."

"What's it called?"

"The Notebook." Sabrina climbed into Nick's bed, settling in beside him.

"What does anything you just said have to do with a notebook?"

"It….the notebook is….you know what, just watch it."

"Babe, let's be honest," Nick said as he put his arm around her. "The movie was pretense to get you here. We both know in five minutes we're going to be making out and won't even know the TV is on."

Sabrina smiled. "You think you're so slick."

"I don't think. I know," he grinned as he leaned down to kiss her. "See. Movie isn't even on and we're already making out."

"Shut up and kiss me," Sabrina commanded as she pulled him back down to her, her lips finding his once more.

Before things could get more intense, there was a knock at the door. Nick pulled back and whispered, "Maybe if we're quiet they won't know we're here."

"Nick, you in there?" Mr. Kinkle's voice asked from the other side of the door.

Nick sighed and rolled off of Sabrina. "Yes sir," he replied.

The door opened and Mr. Kinkle stuck his head in the room. "Oh, sorry. I didn't mean to bother you two, but I wanted to let you know I brought some dinner home for you boys."

"It's greatly appreciated, sir. Thank you."

Mr. Kinkle nodded as he looked down. "And, uh, I know you're both consenting adults and all, but let's try to remember the rule about having the door open when we have….company over."

Nick shifted uncomfortably. "Yes, sir. Sorry, I forgot."

Mr. Kinkle nodded. "Sabrina, nice to see you."

"Nice to see you too, Mr. Kinkle." Harvey's dad left the room with the door open. Sabrina turned to Nick and whispered, "What was that?"

"Well after what happened, Mr. Kinkle prefer that doors stay open when we have you ladies over," Nick explained.

"After what happened?"

Nick looked over at Sabrina and raised a brow. "With Harvey and Roz." Her expression still showed confusion. "You don't know?"

"No. What…." Nick stared at her with a knowing look. "No!" He grinned and nodded. "Oh my Lilith. He caught them?!"

"Yup. He came home one afternoon and walked in on them. I can't believe you didn't know."

"I can't believe you didn't tell me."

"I'm not a mortal teenage girl. I don't gossip."

"Were you home when….it happened?"

"Right here in this bed. It couldn't have been too crazy. I didn't hear a sound. I did hear the scolding though. Mr. Kinkle something about being responsible and respectful. He, uh, said he should be more like….me."

Sabrina laughed. "Why?"

"Because I don't….have sex."

"Oh."

"It's nothing personal. He just doesn't want any….accidents. Harvey is really adamant about going to college, his dad just doesn't want anything to rethink his decision to leave. He finally got over the idea that Harvey won't be working in the mines."

"Does it bother you that we haven't….you know….since our talk?" She asked honestly.

Nick put his arm around her, pulling her closer to him. "No," he replied. "Since I got back, it's been me holding back. I just needed to be sure with all the cards on the table, you were 100% ready. I honestly wasn't for a while there."

"And now?"

"Now I'm ready when you are. No pressure."

Sabrina smiled, resting her head on his shoulder. "How did I get so lucky?"

"Luck had nothing to do with this, Spellman. This was hard fought."


Nick stared out at the Spellman Cemetery. He wondered where they would bury him when his time came. Would they try to lay him to rest beside his mother and father in Ireland? Would they bury him here in Greendale? Would they ask him what he wanted? He doubted the last question. No one seemed to want to come to terms his young life would cease soon, probably for Sabrina's sake. He took a deep breath in and closed his eyes, taking in the cold autumn air.

He was at the Spellman Mortuary for his weekly "check up." Hilda, bless her heart, was a sweet woman that treated him with care and compassion. Nick knew she disapproved of him before, but her mood changed after having his life in her hands. His parents had died when he was barely old enough to remember their faces. He didn't know his mother, but he hoped she was as kind and loving as Hilda. She was a mother with no child, so it was natural she would gravitate to a child with no mother. She did her best to slow the process, knowing she could not stop the endgame.

He could hear footsteps approaching against the wood deck. He opened his eyes, somewhat surprised to see Sabrina standing a foot away with two cups. They hadn't spoken much since he moved into the Kinkle home. They talked about working on things, but after the last fight they kept their distance.

"I brought you some hot chocolate," she said as she held a mug out to him.

Nick reached out of the warm cup. "Thanks," he said.

She took a seat on the bench with him, leaving some space between them. "It's chilly today." Nick nodded. "Aunt Hilda said your healing nicely."

"I guess. Got some scarring where the runes were. Not huge, but they're there."

"That's good they aren't huge." Nick took a deep breath. "You don't have to do this, you know."

"Do what?"

"Force small talk."

"I'm not forcing small talk. I really do want to know how you are."

"Oh you do? Well, what did you want to talk about? The fact that I'm forced to live with a mortal, who happens to by your ex lover?"

"He wasn't my lo…."

"Or the fact that everyone is terrified of me? Maybe we can discuss how the last time we 'talked,' you stormed off because you didn't want to hear the truth."

"I 'stormed off' because you seem to have accepted the fact that there's no way to completely heal your wound."

"Because there's not, Sabrina! There's no point in pretending there is."

She stayed calm though he was visibly upset. He pretended that he accepted his fate, but she knew him better than that. She knew he was scared.

"Nick, I'm not trying to upset you," she said softly. "I just think we need to look into this more. There aren't a lot of books on the Dagger. I'm not giving up and neither should you."

Nick shrugged. "I learned not to get my hopes up. If it's my time, it's my time."

Sabrina bit her bottom lip. She felt selfish to want him to fight. He had been fighting for his life nonstop for over a year. It wasn't that he didn't want to fight, she realized. He was tired. She put her hand over his, giving it a squeeze.

"If it is your time, I'd like to spend whatever is left with you," she said in the steadiest voice she could muster.

He brought her hand to his lips, kissing it softly and giving it a comforting squeeze. She put his arm around her, nestling into his side.

"I've missed you," she said softly. "I need you to know, I want to trust you again. I want us to be ok."

"I want that too. I don't expect you to just forgive me. I just want you to know how sorry I am for what I did."

"I know you are. I've been selfish. I want to be mad because of what you did, but I haven't really thought about what you went through. But we can talk about all that later. Right now, I want to sit out here with my boyfriend and drink some hot chocolate."

Nick grinned. "So I'm still your boyfriend?"

"Of course you are."

"Well, that's definitely something worth fighting for."


Ambrose sighed as he slammed another book shut. "Weeks of research, endless piles of books, interviewing scholars and holy and unholy members of different churches, and still I find myself no closer to an answer than the day I began," he groaned.

"Perhaps you're thinking too much about this," Prudence said as she laid Judas in his bed.

"I don't see how that's possible. Everything calls for the blood of the infected's family. Because Nick was an only child and an orphan, unless he sired secret children, he won't survive much longer."

Prudence picked up one of the books Ambrose had been looking through and skimmed the pages. "We will find something, Ambrose. I know we will."

Ambrose slouched in a chair, rubbing his temples as he shut his eyes. "Your positivity is encouraging."

"Well sometimes one must look beyond what they can see."

Ambrose's eyes flew open. "That's it."

"What is?"

He jumped to his feet, scrambling through his papers and the piles of books until he found a leather bound journal. "One day when Nick was delirious for the potions and medications Aunt Hilda gave him, he started rambling on about something. I thought he was talking nonsense." He flipped through the journal until he found the passage he was looking for. "He kept saying to win you play all the cards, including the ones not in the deck. Here. My Uncle Edward says something similar." Ambrose handed the journal to Prudence.

"To deceive the greatest deceiver, play the odds to your favor," she read aloud. "I don't understand."

"Loopholes. Nick said my uncle was trying to cross into mortal limbo. He also suggested that he may be Sabrina's father as well as the Dark Lord. Edward Spellman was far to smart for his own good. He could have found ways to trick even the master of lies. He would give you the illusion of victory while he walked away with the grand prize.

"The potion that is to cure Nick demands the blood of unconditional love such as the False God's virgin had for their son. But Joseph was not Jesus's blood and loved him as a father would a son. Your sisters, they are not your blood but they are your sisters."

"Not all family is blood."

"Exactly! It's a long shot, but I think we can save Nick."

"We?"

"Sabrina, you, me, the mortals….we risked our lives by venturing into the Pit to save him. We are his family. We can save him, Prudence."

Prudence shook her head. "And what if it doesn't work? What if this idea….this far fetched, insane, reaching idea is wrong?"

Ambrose's eyes darted through the pages of the journal. "Then we very well may kill him."