I chuckle with my eyes closed. Smart kid. Too smart. Sees right through me, right through everything. Always has.
"What's it mean?" she asks after a minute. "The mark."
I open my eyes and stare at the ceiling, watching shadows dance across water stains. "Means I belong here now. Means they belong to me."
"Like family?"
"Somethin’ like that."
She's quiet for so long I think she's fallen back asleep. Then her small voice drifts up again. "Will they help us find Destiny?"
The question hits. Destiny. My middle sister. Seventeen, and pregnant, and gone.
Another failure. Another person I couldn't protect.
"Yeahhhhh," I promise, though I have no right to. "They will."
"The demons will help?" she asks, and there's something in her voice—not fear, but something close to reverence.
I look down at her. "Whah?"
"At school," she says, matter-of-fact, "they call you Demon Kane. Say you got demons inside you. A whole legion of them."
A laugh bubbles up from somewhere deep, somewhere I thought had dried up years ago. "That what they say?"
She nods solemnly. "Miss Wilkins tried to make them stop. Said it wasn't nice. But Tommy Harkinson said his dad told him it's true. Said Mark 5:9 proves it."
Mark 5:9.
The verse that gave me my name.
The curse my mother spoke over me the day I was born, high on something that made her see angels and demons battling for her soul.
"My name is Legion," I whisper, "for we are many."
Mercy's eyes widen. "So itistrue?"
I should tell her no. Should explain it's just a story, just people being cruel. Should protect her from the weight of our family's reputation.
Instead, I say, "Maybe it is. Maybe I do have demons inside me." I brush hair from her forehead, gentler than I knew I could be. "But they're my demons, Merce. And they'll tear apart anyone who tries to hurt you."
She considers this, head tilted like she's working through a complex math problem. Then she nods, satisfied with my answer. "Good." She settles back against me, eyes drifting closed. "I like having a demon for a brother."
Within minutes, her breathing evens out. Sleep reclaims her, innocent and deep.
I lie awake, staring at the ceiling, feeling the brand pulse on my chest and my sister's small body curled trustingly against mine.
My demons and I, we'll keep watch.
