Chapter Ten
After grabbing a torch, Mark, Harry and Sarah followed the deep footprints in the snow, all the way to the edge of Mr Brown's farm. Once there, they found Damian huddled against the stone wall, his head in his hands. The poor guy looked ready to tear himself apart, and his head snapped up as they approached.
"I couldn't let it hurt you. I couldn't, no one else is going to get hurt." Damian rambled. "But he's here, I can feel him, in my head, in my heart."
"OK Damian, I know, we're safe because of you." Mark said gently, trying to placate him. "We need to get to Nanna's house, and we'll solve this somehow."
Damian looked up at him with pleading eyes. "We can't let him in; we can't let him near."
Ignoring his babbling, Mark pulled Damian to his feet and helped him back towards the house, Harry and Sarah trailing behind. By the time they returned, the fire was no more than a steaming mess, snow thrown over the last of the embers. The place was empty of people and the cars on the driveway had gone; now that they were no longer needed, everyone had gone home.
The warm and normally familiar kitchen seemed very alien after the ritual outside. The four friends sat very quietly around the kitchen table; they're young faces shell-shocked. Mark's eyes were fixed on Damian. He still looked like Damian, despite the clenched fists and flush to his skin as his heart worked overtime.
They all jumped when Nanna stomped into her kitchen, still looking rather peeved.
"We almost had him." She muttered. "All he needed was a willing vessel, and you just had to go and give him one."
"Nanna, leave him be." Mark snapped, knowing that Damian had been through enough.
"What happens now?" Sarah asked meekly, holding Harry's arm out of nervous habit.
"Now... now we all go to bed."
Mark stared at Nanna, waiting for the real answer, as surely she wasn't serious.
Nanna sighed and sat down at the table, directly across from Damian. "Look at me."
Damian reluctantly lifted his eyes to meet Nanna's, the normally light blue much darker now.
"You're in there, aren't you?" Nanna muttered, then sat back, satisfied. "There's nothing to be done at this time. The demon's hold on Damian is in its infancy, and as such it's as tangible as a shadow. It might show hints of itself, but we need it to be somewhat more solid before we can expel it, which might take months."
"He's got to live with a demon inside of him?" Harry asked, looking rather disgusted.
Nanna nodded, "I'm afraid so."
"Is that dangerous?"
"To be honest, Harry, I don't know. As long as we can keep the demon at bay for the next few months, in theory it should pose no threat." Nanna replied, less than convincing. "But I think it's safest if Damian is always with Mark or me, we can keep the demon at bay."
Mark jolted up, shocked at the idea of keeping that beast from this night under control. That seemed bloody impossible, whether the demon possession was in its infancy, or not. "I can do what now?"
"I'll teach you what you need to know." Nanna said, with a gentle smile to her grandson. "I might have forgotten to mention that you come from a strong witch bloodline."
"Yeah, Grand High Witch?" Mark replied, raising a questioning brow.
Nanna tutted. "It's just a title, boy. You'll only be accessing the power of your ancestors when I think you're ready."
The old woman looked at the four teenagers sitting around her kitchen table, they all looked so worn out already, yet she knew that they had a hard time ahead of them. She wished that it wasn't that way, and she knew that she would do everything in her power to make it easier.
"Right you lot, it's nearly two in the mornin'. Bed." Nanna stood up, making her chair screech as she pushed it back. "You can crash in the living room, I'll bring some blankets down."
The adrenaline that had pushed them all on had finally crashed and they were not going to argue. The teenagers stood up, and shuffled into the living room. Sarah, being the only one short enough, got dibs on the tiny sofa, and the boys made themselves comfortable on the floor.
Mark stayed wide awake. Despite the fact that he was physically exhausted, he was still wired from tonight. Even the mere memory of the power and magic the coven had amassed made his heart race with the thrill of it.
Next to him, Mark could hear the steady breathing of Harry and Sarah, both fast asleep. When he turned to Damian, he could see his open eyes, somewhat dazed, but still awake. Mark could see where his private thoughts were leading him, and he didn't like it.
"Damian..."
"Stop. Don't try and make everything OK." Damian interrupted, keeping his voice low so as not to disturb the sleepers. "I've ruined everything."
"All you did was make a choice." Mark argued, quietly. "Maybe it wasn't the best choice, but it was very bravely done."
"And now I have to live with the consequences. I have this this inside of me, infecting me." Damian muttered. "You have to understand, the only thing I can do now is leave. I can't let it hurt any of you."
Mark sighed, imagining they were going to have this argument a lot. "You heard Nanna, we're your best hope of controlling this thing. Which means I have every excuse to be with you."
Damian closed his eyes for one long, lingering moment. When he opened them again he was caught between what he wanted and what was responsible.
Mark hesitantly reached out and in the almost-darkness, he traced the curve of Damian's cheek, his fingertips pausing at his soft lips. "It looks like you're stuck with me..."