Free The Devil You Know by Mike Carey

One of the college girls started checking me out, being pretty obvious about it. I glared at her until she looked away.
    “Are you all right?” Morgana asked me after the college bunnies had left the store.
    I smiled, emptily. “Of course,” I answered, assuming my place behind the counter.

    At a quarter to eleven, Vivian stepped into the shop. I looked up from the Chinese menu I was perusing, not very enthusiastically, and spotted her standing by the door. She was wearing a long, untucked chambray shirt and a short tartan skirt, black stockings and penny loafers. She looked childish and vulnerable, and the moment I spotted her, my whole world shrank down to just Vivian.
    My heart quickened and I became aware of a gnawing ache in the vicinity of my groin. It had been a rotten day and I had a ridiculous notion. I wanted to go to her and steal her away. I wanted to hold her against me until I was warm and comforted again. I wanted her beneath me, writhing ecstatically on my sheets.
    I had thought that the days of separation had built up a false fantasy of Vivian. Her skin could not be so white and flawless, her hair so rose red. Her eyes were not at all like aquamarines. Yet when I saw her, I knew my memory of her was sharp and clear and focused. I knew all these things were real. It was all I could do to keep from trembling at the sight of her. “Vivian?” I said, coming out from behind the counter. “Is everything all right?”
    She shook her head. Her eyes were filling with fearful tears. “Nick, it’s Malach.”

    I closed the shop up early and escorted Vivian upstairs. She started to shake then, and I led her to the sofa so she could sit down. She sat on the end of the cushion and said, “He’s been following me, Nick. I only just got away tonight because I remembered what you said. There was a Jehovah’s Witness hall nearby. I ducked under the eaves and just sat in the entranceway until he got tired and went away. I didn’t even know if it would work. He had a gun . . . ” She looked at me directly then. She looked so young. “What does he want with me?”
    I told her the truth. “I think he wants to kill you.”
    She stared down at the floor between her feet. “What can I do to stop him?”
    I brushed a few strands of her hair off her face. The touch of her skin was electric to me. “You can fight him, or you can run away from him. Right now, I would suggest running, until you learn to fight. Until you’re strong. If you can find a holy place to live, it will help. Even Malach can’t spill blood on holy ground.”
    “Like a monastery?”
    “Any holy place will do. Even one that’s been de-consecrated at some point. A church that’s been renovated into apartments, for instance. Something like that.” I closed my eyes as her fear and power seeped into me. Just being this close made me ache to hold her, to be inside of her. “Let me make some tea. Then we’ll talk about it.”
    I got up and moved to the kitchen area. I started filling the kettle, keeping my back to Vivian, but before it was even half-full, I sensed her closing in. I shut the tap off and turned to find her standing there, staring up at me in that girlish way she had. I don’t even think she knew what she was doing to me. She was a daemon. Her power was elemental and sexual. You cannot get more basic than sexual power. It is the root of every living thing.
    Vivian said, her voice trembling, “Ever since that night, the night we met, I’ve been thinking about you, Nick.” She frowned and stared down at her raggedly chewed fingernails. “I dream about you constantly. I daydream about you at work. I can’t seem to think straight anymore. What’s happening to me?” She looked ashamed, disconcerted.
    I leaned against the counter and said, “It’s because you’re like me.”
    “A daemon.”
    “Yes.”
    “Are there many? Of us, I mean.”
    “I really don’t know,” I told her. “You’re the first I’ve encountered in a