What Crawls Below

14 § Out of the Fire

Cyrus couldn't avoid the consequences of his choice forever. In fact, Raziel only managed to watch the signs of relapse—tremors, increasingly violent thoughts—for three days before insisting they make another visit to Mary.

And, of course, that meant Tuesday as well.

When Cyrus suggested they try Mary during the day when Tuesday would be at school, Raziel reminded him of what he already knew: Mary worked the night shift and would be asleep. Waking a tired witch probably had the same success rate as poking a bear with a sharp stick.

There was no use in arguing. The alternative was far worse and Cyrus had no desire to turn back into a crazed killer. The news segment involving the photo with Crocker and the message that could only have been meant for Cyrus had remained on his mind for days; it did his body no favors. His mind had seen better days, as well, both ones where it hadn't been plagued by killing dreams and ones where it had—but it hadn't hurt to have them.

Mary was just as reluctant to help as the last time, but for the most part did so without verbal protest. Halfway through the smudging, Tuesday came downstairs and watched from the doorway, arms crossed. Cyrus imagined there was hellfire in her eyes to champion any demon's, but refused to look that high and see.

As Mary was wrapping up, Raziel began to pester her about their previous conversation.

"Well, did you find anything?"

"You do understand what an exorcism entails, yes?" Mary snapped back. "You take the darkness out of that boy, where do you think it goes?"

Sighing sharply, Raziel turned away to peer out the window with narrowed eyes.

Mary blew out the bundle of sage, the sudden cloud of smoke in Cyrus's face his cue he could sit up. "Although, as much as I hate to admit it," she said quietly, pausing for a moment until Raziel turned back to face her. "You said it yourself. The kids help each other."

From the doorway, Tuesday snorted. Cyrus finally gained the courage to look up at her only to see she was turned away now, shaking her head.

Raziel and Mary exchanged a look before the former flashed a mischievous grin. "Yaknow, I'm new to this whole parenting thing but—whaddya say we lock those crazy kids in a room and force 'em to work out all their angst?"

Surprisingly, despite her eternal hatred for the demon, Mary laughed. The humor quickly drained from her expression and was replaced by pinched lips, downturned eyebrows. "My girl did nothing wrong."

Raziel mirrored the grimace she was giving him. "Oh, but the boy did? You do realize we have bigger issues on our hands than a silly birthday party and some hurt feelings?"

Before the embarrassment of the two taking on parental roles and bickering over him could set in too deep for Cyrus, Tuesday suddenly whirled around. She wrinkled her nose, glaring at Raziel like he was just a dog that had left a less than pleasant surprise at her feet. "Don't think I won't stab you again," she said cooly before spinning on her heel and leaving the kitchen. Seconds later, the front door slammed hard enough to cause the little potted plants along the windowsill to rattle.

Mary laughed again, her humor just as short-lived—she quickly turned semi-aggressive, mostly pensive stare on Cyrus. "Maybe you're under the impression you're in the clear, but I assure you I'll deliver you to hell myself if you don't apologize to her right now."

Cyrus reluctantly got to his feet, halfway to the door when Mary spoke again.

"And make it a damn good one."

The sounds of her and Raziel resuming a hushed conversation came back to him, but Cyrus couldn't make out what they were saying before he was outside and totally out of earshot. Tuesday was pacing the yard, angry breaths materializing frequently on the air to the point it seemed she was hyperventilating. She didn't initially look at him as he tred across the yard towards her.