Nesting (Demonic Games Book 1)

by Sara Clancy

  As fast as a snake strike, the arm pulled back. Everything fell silent. Snow gathered against his back, melting against his skin and trickling down under his collar. Shifting slightly, he glanced from the empty window to the edge of the battlement. Mihail’s position was only safe so long as Abe attacked from the window. If he reached around the edge of the battlement, Mihail would be in easy reach. So he inched his foot back until his toes played with the edge of the landing. Using that as a guide, he slipped as far as he could go, still shifting his gaze back and forth.

  Further back from the safety of the wall, there was little to protect him from the wind and the chill it brought. The skin of his palms stuck against the ancient tiles. He shifted into a crouch, swaying slightly as he tried to prepare for what was to come next. Abe appeared in an instant. He hurled himself around the edge of the building, the tiles crushing under his feet. The break jarred the rows of tiles free. One row started another until the whole ledge was cascading like a river under their feet.

  Mihail threw himself forward, flattening himself against the ledge. But it didn’t stop him from being caught up in the slide. Abe never stopped slashing at him as they both toppled back and over the edge. Knowing it was coming didn’t dampen the effects of the sudden drop. Mihail choked on a scream as he plummeted. The tile debris created hail around them, the sharp edges cutting into any unprotected skin.

  The air ripped from his lungs in a painful grunt as he collided with the water’s surface. Then he was sinking swiftly, pushed down by his momentum as the shards pierced the water all around him. In the dark, weed-filled water, it was difficult to tell which way was up. So he pulled himself into a ball, lips pressed in a desperate attempt to hold onto the last molecules of air that still remained in his lungs, and prayed that Abe wouldn’t find him as the water settled. Weeds brushed against his skin. Slimy fingers seeking something to cling to. But this time, with his arms wrapped tightly around his legs, they couldn’t entangle him. An inferno blazed within his skin as his whole body screamed for oxygen, but he remained frozen in place. In time, the rush of the water evened into a slow sway and he began to float, rising to the surface at an agonizingly slow pace.

  Mihail didn’t let himself move again until he felt the bitterly cold water pull aside to allow the air to ravage his back. Unraveling, he pushed his head up and gasped. The rush of air flooding his system made his head spin. Water dripped from his hair and ran into his eyes as he glanced around. There was a dark mass huddled by the shoreline. The moonlight was too weak for him to make out any details. Struggling to keep his head above the surface, Mihail treaded water and continued to search. Chunks of the building continued to drop around him but there was no sign of Abe.

  What if he’s stuck under the reeds? What if he can’t get back up? His mind battled through the cold to hurl the questions at him. Waving his arms under the surface, he stretched out his numbing fingers until they ached but still couldn’t find him. The more desperately he searched, the easier it was to screw up his kicking pattern and let his waterlogged pants and loafers drag him down. Water filled his mouth each time he dipped under the surface, the sensation adding to his panic.

  “Abe!”

  Bunica Draciana began screaming at him from the shoreline. Her tone made her words clear. She wanted him to come in. Wanted him to stick to the plan. But all of this would be for nothing if Abe died. In the dark, it was hard to pinpoint the exact place he had fallen in, and that inaccuracy made new spikes of panic twist his stomach. When he was as close as he could remember, he ducked down. Searching proved to be more difficult than he had first anticipated. Each time he tried, the weeds would find ways to tangle around him and cling tight. Go slow. More smoothly. It was easier to think the words than to actually put them into practice.

  Every second it took to float back to the surface played against his nerves. But it was the safest way. His body shook violently as it struggled to keep its warmth. It left him exhausted, aching, desperate. He shoved his head back above the surface, gulping down air as Bunica Draciana yelled at him again. Mihail spun to face her and almost smacked into Abe. There was a slosh of water. A flash of moonlight upon metal. Mihail screamed and fought to get back. The sudden motion made the weed tangle around his legs and pull him down. He choked and thrashed, kicking as wildly as he could as Abe grabbed his arm.

  Mihail’s leg slammed against the man holding him. He had no idea where his blows landed, but it kept the blade from digging into him. A few more kicks and Abe’s fingers loosened. It was once he broke the surface that he realized he hadn’t managed to fend Abe off. The weeds had done most of the work. They had wrapped around Abe. The more he struggled, the tighter they held, until Abe couldn’t keep fighting against them. Mihail could still feel him. The water marked each of his attempts for freedom with a ripple or splash. Glancing around him, trying to memorize the exact spot, Mihail kicked off his shoes and wadded to the edge.

  “Are you ready?” Mihail asked, having to spit out mouthfuls of water after every word.

  The going was slow but he managed to get to the edge. He couldn’t stop looking behind him, terrified to find the water still. The moment he was within arm’s reach of the shoreline, he stopped. Bunica Draciana rushed to meet him, words leaving her mouth at a rapid pace.

  “I need a knife,” Mihail panted as he checked the water again.

  The movement was softer than before. He’s dying. Abe’s dying. Hurry!

  He whipped back around to face his grandmother. “Something sharp, I need to cut him free.”

  Draciana pulled something from her pocket and pressed it into his hand. It was made of hard stone but looked to be the shape of a dagger. Mihail battled to close his numb fingers around it as he sunk back into the depths, moving as fast as he dared. The water in the middle of the lake was calm. It made his heart stagger painfully. Please don’t die. Please. Please. Having to move slowly was its own kind of torture. Eyes locked on the edge, he obsessively watched for some sign of life. Just a bubble.

  Finally back to where he started, he ducked under the water, half expecting another attack. It didn’t come. And that scared him more than the knife did. Please, don’t let him die! Mihail didn’t know who he was begging, but he was willing to grovel to anyone if it meant that he wasn’t too late. Groping blindly, he found Abe’s body suspended within the tangle of plants. Mihail began to cut. The water was as black as ink, making it impossible to actually see if his blade would find flesh. He tried to be quick and careful. But small gusts of warmth continued to burst through the water and he knew that he had failed. How much blood had he lost? Am I killing him? Mihail pushed down the fear as he was forced to surface for another breath. Abe didn’t make any movement to stop him. He was desperate for air again by the time he managed to work Abe free. But the moment he cut the last strip, Abe began to sink.

  Even in water, muscle was heavy. Mihail clung tight, barely able to work his arm all the way around Abe’s chest, and felt himself getting dragged along with him. Mihail kicked hard, waved his arm out as far as he dared, put all of his strength into the motion as he was still barley able to counter the drag. You’re going to drown, a voice whispered in Mihail’s head. You’re going to die here with him. Mihail’s arms felt ready to disconnect from their sockets as he strained against gravity. His head swam with lack of oxygen and the cold felt as all-consuming as the grave. But he pushed his arm up, the movement sluggish, and felt his fingertips break the surface.

  He heaved, strained, and worked his nose just high enough to take a breath. Pushing Abe up forced him down. On the edge of panic, Mihail shoved and adjusted him until Abe was floating flat on his back with Mihail propped behind him, keeping his head up as the rest wanted to sink. Wrapping his arm around Abe as best he could, he worked his way back to the shore. He’s not breathing, Mihail thought as they half swam, half sank. He flattened his hand, pressing the hilt of the dagger against Abe’s sternum and willed for the chest to heave. For him to feel
a heartbeat.

  Draciana waded into the water as far as she dared. But even between the two of them, they couldn’t pull Abe all the way out. Mihail gave up the instant they had Abe’s shoulders braced against the stones. Scrambling onto his knees, he pressed his ear to Abe’s chest, but his own heavy breathing kept him from hearing anything else. It didn’t help when Bunica Draciana began to talk, low and slow and constant. The sound became a white noise that covered everything else.

  “He’s not breathing.” Hearing the fear within his own voice made it somehow real.

  He snapped his head up, looking for his grandmother, needing her to tell him what to do. But she had already moved away, still talking to herself, the dagger clasped tight between both hands. A small spark of fire puffed to life in the bowl set beside her, illuminating her face and dancing over the large mirror placed before her.

  “Grandma, he’s not breathing!” he yelled at her, voice frantic and sharp. She didn’t stop. Didn’t turn around. Would it mess up the ritual if I help him? Would he still be possessed? “Grandma!”

  She still refused to even glance in his direction and Mihail decided that he didn’t care if he ruined everything. None of it mattered if Abe died. The lessons of his physical education classes played across his mind, too vague for him to know for sure if he was doing it right. Five breaths. You do five rescue breaths first. Pinch the nose, tilt the head back, open the mouth, and form a tight seal. Following each instruction as it came to him, Mihail sucked in as much oxygen as his lungs could handle, and poured it all into Abe’s lungs.

  Out of the corner of his eyes, he watched Abe’s chest swell and recede with every breath he forced into it. But he didn’t move beyond that. Abe remained slack against the stones. His lips were like ice. Please, please, please, repeated in his mind like a mantra. A prayer. The five breaths ran their course with no change. Mihail pressed his ear back to Abe’s chest, holding his own breath in hopes that this change would make any beat clearer. Silence met one ear while his grandmother’s words continued in the other, growing louder with every passing second.

  “Come on, Abe,” Mihail said under his breath as he straightened. “Don’t do this. Please don’t do this.”

  A violent tremble claimed Mihail’s hands as he pressed his thumbs together and spread his fingers wide. Setting the smallest finger of one hand at the tip of Abe’s throat, he reached down to press the small finger of his other hand against his sternum. The middle. You compress in the middle. Placing his hands over the spot, Mihail started compressions. Thirty reps, two breaths. Was it thirty? I can’t remember. Why can’t I remember? He knew he was spiraling but he couldn’t stop. So he counted out loud as he threw his weight into it, hoping that his own voice would drown out everything else. There was a sickening crack and he felt the ribs give way. Keep going! You have to keep going! Reaching thirty, he gave two deep breaths again and went back to compressions.

  “Please,” Mihail sobbed. “Just breathe, okay? Just breathe, that’s all I ask.”

  Bunica Draciana’s voice rose into scream. As if in response, Abe’s body began to heat up. Within seconds, it was like holding hot coal. It burned, searing his palms, growing hotter until he could barely bring himself to keep the contact. Tears of pain rimmed his eye. Broken whimpers escaped his lips between counts. Twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty! Shifting his grip, he filled Abe’s lungs again. Blisters nearly rose from the contact and the breath became a shriek. Mihail forced himself to hold on, to share every ounce of his breath with Abe. Bunica Draciana’s voice rose louder still.

  Mihail looked up just as she drove the dagger down. The blade shattered the mirror, sending the shards flying up around her, the pieces glowing as they tumbled and slowed. In transfixed horror, Mihail watched as the shards hovered in the air. In the same moment, Abe’s body jolted. A shockwave slammed into Mihail and tossed him back like a ragdoll. By the time he managed to scramble back up, the ritual was already drawing to a close. The shards were pulsing, melting. They rained down like fire back into the mirror frame.

  And that was it.

  Within a second, everything was back to the way it was. The bowl of fire by Draciana’s side had burned down to embers. The mirror was complete and whole in the moonlight. And Abe still lay sprawled across the stones, snow settling upon his cooling body.

  “Abe.” The name left his mouth in a whisper as he crawled back to his side.

  Abe lurched as he neared, his massive chest bucking and forcing water to spurt from his mouth. Mihail helped him roll onto his side. It seemed like a simple motion but it made Abe scream a few curses and clutch at his chest.

  “Abe, is that you? I mean, only you?”

  “Not possessed,” Abe said through clenched teeth. “Just in pain.”

  “Paranormal pain?” Mihail couldn’t stop touching him. Like he was afraid this wasn’t real and Abe was still lying lifeless before him. “Demonic pain? Should I get you a crucifix?”

  “Jewish,” Abe reminded him as he spat out another mouthful.

  “A Star of David? Wait, didn’t you say it didn’t matter? But then it’s your faith, you should know.” Cutting himself off, he tightened his grip on Abe’s arm and dropped his forehead down against it. “Please just put me out of my misery and tell me what I’m supposed to do right now.”

  Abe shifted under him. “Let’s start with some pain killers, yeah?” Abe said with a smile in his voice. “Then, if we’re not in immediate danger, I wouldn’t mind ya telling me why my ribs are broken.”

  Chapter 13

  “Your lips are turning blue,” Mihail said. “Just come inside.”

  Abe snarled as he slowly stretched out his legs, an act of defiance that made it clear he wasn’t getting up again.

  “Abe, you look like hell,” he said to no response. “You’re going to freeze to death out here.”

  With his teeth clenched and bared, Abe looked like a wounded beast. Pain snapped across his face each time he tried to take a deep breath and remembered his broken ribs.

  “You’re the one who told me that the angry spirits were appeased,” Mihail said as a last ditch effort.

  Abe barked a laugh. It barely left his mouth before he clenched his teeth, the sound changing into long, agonized groans. Mihail dropped to his knees beside him. Not sure what he could do to help, his hands fluttered around uselessly in the air. Abe slumped against the wall, and Mihail realized it would be cruel to ask him to move an inch. So he got to his feet and pulled both of the massive doors open.

  Only the most minimal traces of warmth poured out of the open door, but at least it was something. The light of the fireplaces flooded out into the courtyard, stretching far enough to illuminate Bunica’s back. She was still crouched over the items of the ritual and startled to see the glow.

  “Mihail,” she said.

  She got to her feet and rushed towards him. Her hands were hot as they cupped Mihail’s cheeks, reminding him of just how cold he was. He was shivering himself into exhaustion and could barely keep on his feet.

  “So cold,” she said.

  Mihail placed his hands over hers, trying to capture every trace of warmth. “Abe’s hurt. Do you understand? Hurt.”

  Taking a step to the side, she looked around him to see Abe. “Tend to him. I get the bandages and blankets.”

  “Thank you.”

  As he moved back to Abe’s side, he kept his eyes on Bunica Draciana until she disappeared into the house. There wasn’t a hint of hesitation within her strides. Mihail was sure that he could never have even a fraction of her bravery. He felt useless, leaving his grandmother to do all the errands, but he couldn’t bring himself to leave Abe alone.

  “I thought she couldn’t speak English,” Abe said through his teeth.

  Mihail blinked, his brow furrowing as he crouched down next to him. “I guess she knows a few words.”

  “Strange how that never came up.”

  With the increased light, Mihail could see the wounds that li
ttered Abe’s chest and arm. Blood oozed from them and the ropes had rubbed his neck and wrists raw. The dark tendrils of his tattoos made it hard to tell for sure, but Mihail thought he saw bruises beginning to form across his ribcage.

  “Oh, God. That’s a lot of blood. Are you going to die?”

  “Just take a deep breath,” Abe smiled.

  Mihail clamped his mouth shut and drew a noisy breath in through his nose. It did calm him down, allowing him to think clearly enough to move into action. He peeled his soaked shirt over his head, balled it in his hand, and used it to try and clear off Abe’s skin a little. With his other hand, he tried to rub some warmth back into Abe’s shoulders. To distract him from the pain, Mihail caught Abe up on everything that had happened. He had thought it would take all night to get through it all. In practice, however, they were done relatively quickly. Abe just listened. He didn’t even comment when Mihail admitted to destroying his phone. By the time Bunica Draciana returned, everything was out in the open, allowing the focus to shift completely on taking care of Abe’s injuries.

  She draped a blanket over Mihail’s shoulders and headed back to collect the ritual items. Abe watched her silently as Mihail dressed his wounds. Once he was done, Abe was almost completely covered by stark white strips of gauze.

  “We need to get you to a doctor.” Mihail said as he helped wrap a stabilizing bandage around Abe’s upper torso. “This isn’t going to do much.”

  Abe grunted and let out a sharp breath, but nodded. “There’s not much ya can do for ribs. Ya just have to endure it. And never sneeze. That last bit is very important.”