She twined ice-pale arms around Nick’s neck and kissed him. She took her time doing it, her body clinging to and wrapped around Nick’s at the same time, like seaweed, like ropes. Nick stood still.

The kiss looked like Liannan was laying claim.

After a long moment, the demon pulled away and took Nick’s hands in hers, cutting them and hardly seeming to notice as blood welled from the cuts. She was looking up at him, her eyes huge and tranquil, shining like deep, cold pools.

“I knew you’d call for us,” she murmured.

After a beat Nick said, “I don’t remember calling for him.”

Anzu’s wings snapped restlessly. His whole body seemed caught in constant turbulent motion, mouth curling and fingers closing on nothing, in movements that reminded Mae of a bird’s talons. She didn’t know why until she realized that the dark points his nails ended in actually were a bird’s talons, obscene on the ends of his long, beautiful hands.

He would have been model-beautiful in a golden and angular way if it had not been that your eye could not settle on him long enough to appreciate any one feature. His beauty gave Mae vertigo.

He said, “I thought I’d come to collect.”

Nick tipped his head back. “Yeah?” he asked, casual. “And what do you want?”

Anzu moved in like a bright moth to a dark flame. Liannan detached herself from Nick slightly, one icicle-sharp hand lingering on his wrist and drawing blood. They circled him for a moment, watching and waiting, utterly silent. Three demons together.

“What do we want?” Anzu breathed, mouth curving, cruel as a scimitar or a hunting bird’s beak.

He leaned against Nick, talon-tipped hand flat against Nick’s chest. Nick did not back down or look away, and Anzu’s pale eyes shone, like crystal caves filling with sunlight and refracting it into a thousand shards of brightness.

The dark veil of his wing hid them both from Mae’s sight for a moment, the edges of the feathers shadowy, blurred in the rising magic. Then the wing drew away like a curtain as Anzu moved back. Whatever he had whispered or done in that hidden moment, Mae could not tell. Nick’s face betrayed nothing.

Anzu’s voice had more than an edge of anger to it now. “Only what we’re owed!”

“And what’s that?” Nick asked, his voice still level.

Anzu’s eyes lowered, as if he was suddenly sleepy or had just had an extremely pleasant thought. He looked like a fairy-tale prince waiting for a princess’s kiss to wake him up.

Through barely parted lips, he whispered a single hungry word. “Bodies.”

Liannan closed in now, as if they were taking it in turns to trap him. She kissed Nick again, this time light against his jaw, rows of sharp teeth glinting close to his skin.

“We kept our part of the bargain, didn’t we, Hnikarr?” she asked. “You went into that baby and we guarded you. We came every time you called us at the Goblin Market. We came for you. Didn’t we?”

“You did,” said Nick.

“Good,” Liannan murmured, as if she was a teacher incredibly pleased that her student had given her the right answer. She leaned her face into the curve of Nick’s throat, not touching but close, her profile looking a little less like something carved on a coin. “I’ll always come for you,” she whispered. “Even though you have no soul to share with me.”

Nick said nothing.

“You owe us,” Liannan reminded him sweetly. “You remember how cold it is. You won’t leave us out in the cold.”

She kissed him again, on the line of his jaw, more a nip than a kiss. Her lips left a frosty mark with pink rising underneath, as if her mouth was so cold it burned.

Nick turned his face away.

“You could choose them, if you liked.” She reached up and tried to turn his face toward her, icicles iridescent in his black hair, bloody lines scored along his cheek. “Choose me any body you want.”

“It’s not like you can keep them long,” Nick said, still looking away, his jaw tight. “The bodies die. Someone will notice if I spread death everywhere I go.”

Mae sat down heavily on the back doorstep and hugged her knees to her chest, chilled and alone, the only human there.

“Let them notice,” Liannan murmured. “Wear death like a garment. It looks good on you.” She smiled. “Always did.”

“I agree with Hnikarr. We want someone with no family,” whispered Anzu. The scarlet feather patterns in his golden hair seemed to melt and spread like blood, dyeing his hair almost red. “Someone with no friends. Someone who won’t ever be missed by anyone at all.”

He arched his neck, putting himself on display, and the balefire circled his head and made his face shine as it changed.

The bones shifted, his face went thinner and paler, his eyes turned blue. His hair was really red now.

Nick made a low sound in the back of his throat.

Anzu looked like Alan and not like Alan, the planes and angles of his face a little too sharp, the red hair the heavy dark color of arterial blood. He looked like a cruel, beautiful version of Alan, and he smiled a smile that wasn’t Alan’s at all.

“I want this body,” said Anzu.

Nick snarled, “No.”

“Drop it,” Liannan told Anzu sharply.

That didn’t have the desired effect at all. Nick wheeled on her.

“And you,” he snarled. “What were you doing last night at the Goblin Market? What were you doing with my brother?”

Liannan looked at Nick and then, after a long pause, she laughed. She shook out her hair, and it flared up like a gust of flame. Her hair stayed suspended in midair, ignoring petty human concerns like gravity. The ends shimmered with what really seemed to be fire, sparking along the strands, burning but never burning out.

“He didn’t tell you?” she asked, and smiled, displaying a sharp row of teeth.

“I suggest you tell me,” said Nick. “Now.”

“By your brother,” Liannan continued, her voice soft, “who do you mean?”

“You know who I mean!”

Liannan moved away, almost dancing, hair a burning banner. “Even the bodies aren’t related, are they? Different parents. Not a single drop of blood shared. And you are not this body. You are not human. So how is he your brother? In what possible sense is he your brother?”

Nick strode over lines glowing with magic as if they weren’t there. He grasped the demon’s burning hair in his hands, handled it like a whip, and wrapped it tight around her long neck.

He leaned down to whisper in her ear. Loose strands of her hair rose where there was no wind and opened up bloody stripes on his cheek, but he did not relax his strangling grip. He did not seem to notice.

“In what sense?” he repeated, his voice colder than hers. “In the sense that he’s mine!”

“I have had enough!” Anzu shouted. “Stop trying to talk him around, Liannan. Accept the fact that he’s a traitor.”

“It’s all right if Nick wants to have a pet,” said Liannan. “It’s not unheard of, you know.”

“Have a pet?” Anzu echoed. “He is a pet! He could do anything in the world, he could rule the humans, he could slaughter every one of the magicians who feed us on crumbs, he could help his own kind! And instead, what does he do?”

Nick didn’t spare Anzu even a glance. He was still looking at Liannan.

“Just tell me what you did,” he said.

Nick’s hands were tangled up in Liannan’s hair. He made no move to untangle them, to defend himself, when Anzu swooped on him and caught Nick’s face in his hands.

“You care so much about humans, traitor?” Anzu crooned at him, saying the word “traitor” as if it was an endearment. “I’ll have them all. And that precious brother of yours, I’ll have him first. I’ll eat his heart. I’ll make you watch. I swear.”

Nick glanced at Anzu and smiled.

“I’m not worried about you. Liannan’s the one who eats men’s hearts. You’re the one they write songs about,” Nick continued, turning back to her, turning her hair around his wrist. “Nightmare lover.”

Liannan smiled. “You remember.”

Nick’s voice went dark. “What did you do to Alan?”

“Why don’t you ask him? Surely you don’t trust me more than your own brother?”

Nick stared at her, then threw her hair from him as if he was throwing away a weapon he might be tempted to use, and vanished.

There was just the shimmering garden then, and the two demons in it.

Liannan turned and prowled toward the doorstep, smiling as if now she got to play a game.

“Hello, pretty thing,” she said to Mae. “I remember you. Talk to me.”

“No, thanks,” said Mae. “I don’t have any questions just now.”

“Liar,” Liannan said, laughing. “Humans always have questions.”

She was slinking toward Mae, but Mae didn’t get up, just sat there hugging her knees on the step. Liannan was not deterred for a moment. She dropped until she was at eye level with Mae and then came forward, moving not like a human on her hands and knees but with the fluid grace of an animal on four legs, swift and predatory.

Anzu did not come forward, but he turned his head in her direction, hair shining like newly discovered treasure.

Mae raised her eyebrows at him. “You’re not my type.”

Anzu gave her a long look like a parody of a normal flirtatious look, lashes fluttering over hungry eyes, sinister under the sweetness.

“I’ll be seeing you, sweetheart,” he said. “I’ll be your type then.”

Mae flashed him a brief, cold smile, her mother’s, which said better than a frown that she was neither amused nor impressed. “I’ll be waiting.”

“I’ll be thinking of you,” Anzu told her. “Your soul in the palm of my hand. About to be crushed.”

He kissed the palm of his hand, then blew her the kiss. It floated to her, shining, a demon’s mark made of light, and blew apart like the seeds on a dandelion clock when it hit the edge of the circle.

Anzu disappeared the same way, turning into motes of light in the air that hung for a moment and fell like bright dust.

“Just you and me,” Liannan said, crawling to the edge of the circle, body moving in S shapes like a snake. “Can’t leave until Hnikarr comes back and releases me, you know. He called me by name. Keep me company, and I’ll give you some answers. For free.”

She was wearing a necklace, Mae saw, shimmering and dangling in the shadow cast by the front of her white dress. There seemed to be a charm hanging from the silver chain, but the charm kept changing shape, from a silver rendering of a demon’s mark, to a world in a jeweled cage, and then to one of Nick’s quillon daggers.

“So if I asked you about Gerald,” Mae began.

Liannan laughed and rolled over onto her back, the silver chain streaking like lightning across her white skin.

“Not useful questions, my darling girl,” she said. “But those questions that humans ask, as valuable as tears in the ocean. Will we be happy, is it too late? Does he love me?”

“How human can a demon be?”

Liannan’s eyes narrowed to bright slits like fissures in ice. She licked a pink tongue across her razor-sharp teeth.

There was silence in the garden except for the hiss of the balefire, magic brimming against the garden fence, and the urge running all through Mae’s body to lean forward just a little when Liannan whispered, to hear the words slide soft into the space between them.

“Being human,” Liannan murmured. “And what is that? Being attached beyond all reason, being too easily hurt.”

“Yes.”

Liannan laughed and bowed her head, the ends of her hair blowing against Mae’s cheek. The strands tingled against her skin in a kiss that seemed balanced between frost and fire.