He frowns at me. “Do I know you?”
“Grubbs Grady. We…” I stop. I’ve met Shark twice before, but the first time was in a dream, and the second was in a future that we diverted. As far as he’s concerned, I’m a stranger. It’s simpler not to explain our previous encounters, especially as I saw him ripped to bits by demons the second time.
“Dervish told me about you,” I lie. “I’m Grubbs, his nephew.”
Shark nods. “I can see a bit of him in you. But you’ve got more hair. You’re a lot taller too — what’s Beranabus been feeding you?”
“Enough of the prattle,” Beranabus snaps. “What’s wrong?”
As soon as he says that, the mood switches. Shark and Meera’s grins disappear.
“We were attacked,” Meera says. “I was at Dervish’s. We —”
“Was it Lord Loss?” Beranabus barks. “Is Bec all right?”
“She’s fine,” Shark says.
“But Dervish…,” Meera adds, shooting me a worried glance.
My heart freezes. Not Dervish! Losing my parents, Gret, and Bill-E was horrific. Dervish is all I have left. If he’s gone too, I don’t know if I can continue.
“He was alive when we left,” Shark says.
“But in bad shape,” Meera sighs. “He had a heart attack.”
“We have to go back,” I gasp, turning for the window.
Shark puts out a hand to stop me. My eyes flash on the letters S H A R K tattooed across his knuckles, and the picture of a shark’s head set between his thumb and index finger. “Hold on,” he says. “We didn’t come here directly. That leads to another demon world.”
“Besides,” Kernel adds, “if the demons are still at the house…”
“We weren’t attacked by demons,” Meera says. “They were…” She locks gazes with me and frowns uncertainly. “Werewolves.”
We gape at her. Then, without discussing it, Kernel turns away and his hands become a blur as he sets about opening a window back to the human universe.
Beranabus crosses first. I’m not far behind. I find myself in a hospital corridor. It looks like the ward where they keep newborn babies. Bec is on the floor close to us. There are two demons. One has the features of an anteater, but sports several snouts. The other is some sort of lizard. Beranabus is addressing them with savage politeness — he’s ultra protective of his little Bec.
“What do the pickings look like now?” he asks as Kernel, Shark, and Meera step through after us. In response, the demons bolt for safety. Kernel and the Disciples race after them.
“Dervish?” I snap at Bec, not giving a damn about demons, babies, or anything else except my uncle.
“Back there,” Bec pants, pointing back down the corridor. “Hurry. He was fighting a demon. I don’t know —”
I run as fast as I can, long strides, readying myself for the worst. I glance into each room that I pass. Signs of struggle and death in some of them, but no Dervish. I pause at the door of what looks to be an empty room. I’m about to push on when something grunts.
Entering, I spot Dervish to my left, half-obscured by an overturned bed. There’s a demon on top of him, shaped like a giant insect with a golden shell. It’s snapping at Dervish’s face, mandibles grinding open and shut. I’m on it in an instant. I make a fist and smash through its protective shell. It shrieks and turns to deal with me, but I fill its guts with fire and it dies screaming. When I’m sure it’s dead, I toss it aside and bend over my startled, bleary-eyed uncle. He slaps at me feebly. Doesn’t recognize me. He’s finding it hard to focus.
“Hey, baldy,” I chuckle. “Things must be bad when you can’t squish a damn cockroach.”
Dervish relaxes and his eyes settle on me. The smile that lights his face is almost enough to bring me to tears.
“Grubbs!” he cries, throwing his arms around me.
“Don’t go all blubbery on me,” I mutter into his shoulder, fighting back sobs.
Dervish pushes himself away, touches my face with wonder, then says in that wry tone I recall so well, “You could have sent me a card while you were away.”
“No post offices,” I grunt, and we beam at each other.