RUNNING WITH THE DEMON by Terry Brooks

She clutched him more tightly. “Gran left a note, John. Just before she died. She knew what was going to happen. The note says the demon is coming for me, too. For me! Why?”

The words hung sharp-edged and immobile in the silence that followed. John Ross said nothing, but in doing so said everything. Nest felt the precipice she had sought to escape drawing near once more. Ross knew, but would not tell her. Like Gran, he had secrets to hide. Her resolve began to falter. She heard the screen door open and saw her grandfather emerge, looking for her. She felt besieged on all sides, boxed in by her ignorance and confusion. She had to know what was happening. She had to know before it was too late.

A surge of wild determination and reckless courage flooded , through her. “John,” she said quickly, lifting her face away from his chest to look at him. Her heart pounded. “Are you my father?”

The pain that filled his eyes when she spoke the words was palpable. He stared at her with such intensity that it felt to her as if he was unable to convey with words what he was feeling.

“It’s just that Gran seemed so suspicious and resentful of you,” Nest hurried on, trying to make the answer easier for him, to let him tell her what she already knew was so. “I heard her talking to Grandpa. She was saying things that made it pretty clear… I’m not angry or anything, you know. I just… I just…”

He brought his hand to her face, resting the palm against her cheek. “Nest,” he said softly. “I wish to God I were your father. I would be proud to be your father.” He shook his head sadly. “But I’m not.”

She stared at him in disbelief, feeling her expectation crumple inside and turn to despair. She had been so sure. She had known he was her father, known it from the way that Gran reacted to him, from the way he spoke of her mother, from his history, from his voice and eyes, from everything he was. How could he not be? How could he not?

Her grandfather came up behind them, and Nest turned toward him. He saw the stricken look in her face, and his jaw tightened. His eyes locked at once on John Ross.

“Morning, John,” he said, a decided edge to his voice. He placed a reassuring hand on Nest’s shoulder.

“Good morning, sir,” Ross answered,, taking his own hand away.

“Is something wrong here?”

“No, sir. I just came by to offer my condolences. I’m very sorry about Mrs. Freemark. I believe she was a remarkable woman.”

“Thank you for the kind words and for your concern.” The old man paused. “Mind telling me what happened to your face?”

Nest, who had been staring at nothing, still stunned from learning that Ross was not her father, glanced up at him quickly and for the first time noticed the cuts and bruises.

“I was attacked by some men from MidCon at the dance last night,” Ross said, giving a barely perceptible shrug. “It was a case of mistaken identity. They thought I was a company spy.”

“A company spy?” Nest’s grandfather looked incredulous. “The company doesn’t have any spies. Who would they be spying on? For what reason?”

Ross shrugged again. “It’s over now. I’m fine. I just wish I had been here for you and Nest.”

Nest’s grandfather looked at her. “You’ve been crying, Nest. Are you all right now?”

Nest nodded, saying nothing, feeling dead inside. She, looked at her grandfather, then looked quickly away.

Robert Freemark straightened and turned back to John Ross. “John, I have to tell you something. Evelyn wasn’t all that warm toward you, I know. She thought that maybe you were someone other than who you claimed. She was suspicious of your motives. I told her she was being silly, that I thought you were a good man.”

He shook his head slowly. “But I have to admit that a lot of strange things have happened since you arrived. Nest hasn’t been herself for several days. Maybe she doesn’t think I’ve noticed, but I have. Last night’s events have made me think. A lot of things don’t add up. I guess I need to ask you to explain some of them.”

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