The Demon’s Surrender by Sarah Rees Brennan Read Free Book Online Page A

Nick’s eyes was admitting that they were all treading on black ice.
    Everything had been so much simpler when Sin could just hate both brothers.
    Except she had not been able to hate Nick for long, only from the time when she’d learned what he was until she’d met him again.
    She’d always found it easy to hate Alan. But she couldn’t do that, either. Not anymore.
    “We made a bargain with them,” Sin said. “The Market always keeps its bargains.”
    She remembered Merris’s face, and how demons kept their bargains. That did not stop her from swinging to her feet, taking another drink of fever-touched water, and going over to the spot by the fire where Nick and Alan were sitting. Nick was stretched out like a portrait in charcoal, all black and white in lovely lines, and Alan animated and firelit in red and gold.
    They looked up as she came toward them, identically wary.
    “Time for our dance?” Nick asked.
    “Yes,” said Sin. “And I wondered if Alan might like to sing for us.”
    Alan stared. Sin widened her eyes at him, schooling her face into a picture of innocent inquiry.
    “Are the dancers going to play nice?”
    “If you are,” Sin said. “Maybe.”
    She didn’t know what she expected, but it wasn’t for things to be easy, after years of being at daggers drawn, as if all she’d needed to do was reach out once.
    She reached out and Alan took her hand. She was startled by how that felt: Alan’s hand strong and gun-calloused, but holding hers rather carefully, as if he was worried he might hurt her.
    It was ridiculous to be startled. She knew Alan was usually gentle. She’d been watching him play with children for years. And she’d seen Alan kill whoever got in his way, whenever he had to.
    She’d just never really thought about the contrast of how he presented himself and who he actually was. Not until he’d stepped between two armies and taken her brother and a magician’s mark.
    Sin looked away as he levered himself up from the log—surely he didn’t want her to see him struggling—but she didn’t let go of his hand when he was up. She led Alan to where the dancers were talking, Nick stalking in their footsteps like a jungle cat on bodyguard detail.
    “Alan’s going to sing,” she announced.
    “Cool,” said Chiara, who knew a cue when she heard one.
    “I can’t tell you how pleased I am,” Matthias told Alan.
    Alan slid his fingers easily out from between Sin’s, watch glinting in the firelight under the frayed edge of his shirt cuff. He hesitated briefly and then curled his fingers around one of the belt loops on his jeans, as if he felt he should do something with his hand.
    “Didn’t you try to throw me to the magicians last time we met?” he asked Matthias.
    “Sure,” Matthias replied, flashing his skull-like grin. “But I didn’t mean anything personal by it.”
    “That’s all right then,” Alan said, sounding truly amused. He smiled by degrees, like a stage curtain being opened by someone who knew how to do it, making you wait just long enough.
    Most of the dancers thawed enough to smile back, and Sin was startled to realize that she had been wrong all this time when she’d assumed Alan was winning over all the old guard of the Market just by being an enormous nerd. He had charm.
    He’d just never bothered to use it on Sin.
    “We have the exact right guitar for you,” Matthias said, trying to usher Alan away to the other pied pipers. “Don’t ask me how I know. I always know. I’ve been watching your hands.”
    “I feel very reassured,” said Alan. “Also a little violated. There is that.”
    More than a few dancers laughed as he limped past on his way to the pipers, and Sin was still lost in amazement that it was all so simple: that Alan could make them laugh like he was any guy.
    She’d never had a problem charming other guys. There had to be a way to reach this one too. She had to be able to thank him somehow.
    Sin was still thinking this over when