Part 1 (1/2)

Demon_ A Me the night he found me Traffic had slowed on Massachusetts Avenue, and the wan light of street la on without an ue onto shi+eld its illus There had been a nize and I had stayed late at the office for-until six forty-five-just in case Our officeme from home now to say she had no idea who it ith, that the appointed on Phil's calendar, that she was sorry for the ht

I flipped the phone shut, shoved it inI orn out by this week already, and it was only Tuesday The days were getting shorter, the sun setting by six o'clock It put et so all else, ho to face the empty apartment, the dirty dishes, the unopened ainst the rain and walked another two blocks past my turnoff until I came to the Bosnian Cafe A strap of bells on the door announcedslap

I liked the worn appeal of the Bosnian Cafe with its olfactory eyroafter leaving That night, in the premature darkness and rain, the cafe see countertops, chipped riotten Saint Patrick's Day, draped the pass-through into the kitchen, faded around their die-cut edges A string of Christhts lined the front , every third bulb out On the wall above the register, a fraeant queen and another with a retired Red Sox player had never been dusted But no one, includingfor Esad, the owner, to notice me But it was not the bald er

I was surveying the other tables, looking for inspiration-chicken or steak, gyro or salad-when he beckoned I hesitated Was I supposed to recognize hi by hiain, ilanced overin the entryway but me And then the man at the table stood up and strode directly to me

”You're late” He claspedhair and a slightly hooked nose that did nothing to detract frolittered beneath well-formed brows His teeth were very white

”I' person,” I said

He chuckled ”Not at all! I've been waiting for you for quite soht say Please, co for you”

His voice ree men drink aboard their yachts as they cut their Cohibas

”You have the wrong person I don't know you,” I insisted, even as he steered me toward the table I didn't want to eantly out of place here in what, for all practical purposes, was a joint But he would feel like an elegant fool in another minute, especially if his real appoint here with me

”But I know you, you, Clay” Clay”

I started at the sound of my nae interest I studied him more closely-the squareness of his jaw, the smoothness of his cheek, his utter self-possession Had Had I met him before? No, I was certain I hadn't I met him before? No, I was certain I hadn't

One of Esad's nephews arrived with a chicken sandwich and two cups of coffee

”Please” The stranger motioned to a vinyl-covered chair Numbly, stupidly, I sat

”You work down the street at Brooks and Hanover,” he said when the younger led toward s, plucked invisible lint off the fine wool of his trousers ”You're an editor”

Several thoughts went through my head in that moment, none of them savory: first, that this was some finance or insurance rep who-just like the pile of loan offers onto capitalize on ressive literary agent trying to play suave

Most likely, though, he was a writer

Every editor has stories to tell: zealous writers pushi+ng a sheaves of italicized print across pews at church or trying to pick the between lubricated flirtations that they write stories on the side and just happen to have a manuscript in the car I had lost count of the dry cleaners, dental hygienists, and plu, had felt coift me with their short stories and children's books, their novels-in-progress and rhy poetry

”Look, whoever you are-”

”Lucian”

I meant to tell him that I was sure we didn't publish whatever it was he wanted et his work to us if we did, that he could visit the Web site and check out the guidelines I also et up and walk away, to look for Esad or his nephew and put an order in To go But I didn't say or do any of these things because what he said next stopped , Clay I know you're wondering what these late, dark nights are for You have that seasonal disease, that modern ailment, don't you? SAD, they call it But it isn't the disorder-you should know that It isn't even your divorce That's not what's bothering you Not really”

I was no longer hungry I pushed away the chicken sandwich he had ordered and said with quiet warning ”I don't knoho you are, but this isn't funny”

He went on as though he hadn't heard , ”It's that you don't knohat it's all for The hours and days, working on the weekends, the belief that you'll eventually get caught up, and on that ulti will ure it out You're a goodno younger, drifting toward some unknown but inevitable end in this life And where is thewill ure it out You're a goodno younger, drifting toward some unknown but inevitable end in this life And where is thein that?”

I sat very still I felt exposed, laid open, as though I had emptied my mind onto the table like the contents of a pocket I couldn'tdirty blond dreadlocks-mulled over menus as the woman dandled an infant on her lap Beyond the h an anemic salad Had any of the place here? But they were mired in their menus, distractions, and stupor At the back counter a student tapped at the keypad of his phone, sendingh an anemic salad Had any of the place here? But they were mired in their menus, distractions, and stupor At the back counter a student tapped at the keypad of his phone, sending es into the ether

”I realize how this feels, and I apologize” Lucian folded long fingers together on his knee His nails were s watch, the second hand of which seeh tiht of the diner ”I could have done this differently, but I don't think I would have had your attention”

”What are you, so that made sense His spiel could have hit close to anyone I felt conned, angry, but most of all ehter was abrupt and, I thought, slightly manic

”Oh my” He wiped the corners of his eyes

I pushed back my chair

His merriment died so suddenly that, were it not for the sound of it still echoing into tell you everything” He leaned toward me, so close I could see the tiny furrows around the corners of his low ee of his irises like the halo of a solar eclipse ”I'reat hope for you, in whom I will create the repository of reat interest to you And you're going to write it down and publish it”

Now I barked a stunted laugh ”No, I'ain he went on as though I'd said nothing ”I understand they're all the rage these days, hostwritten, self-revelatory accounts of celebrities all the time But trust me; they've never acquired a story like e in hostwriter So I'et this ever happened” But as I started to rise, he grabbed h the sleeve of , unnaturally waret” The strange light of fanaticism burned in his eyes The curve of his h it ca-every word I say Long after you have forgotten, in fact, the name of this cafe, the way I summoned you to this table, the first prick of your otten, in fact, the most basic details of your life You will reet” The strange light of fanaticism burned in his eyes The curve of his h it ca-every word I say Long after you have forgotten, in fact, the name of this cafe, the way I summoned you to this table, the first prick of your otten, in fact, the most basic details of your life You will remember, and you will curse or bless this day”

I felt ill So about the way he saidout like an elastic band, snappedIn that instant, reality, strung out like an elastic band, snapped

This was no writer

”Yes You see,” he said quietly ”You know We can share now, between us, the secret of what I am”

And the words came, unbidden, to my mind: Fallen Dark Spirit Fallen Dark Spirit

Dean in m But then he releasedwhy you haven't touched your sandwich”

And indeed, here caer as though he were ular than I I stared between them as they made their pleasantries, the sound of their banter at sick odds hat my visceral sense toldhere with so incomprehensively evil