Page 7

“Sarkaron is my true name,” the demon told him instead of answering. “But most call me Nightmare. You may use either, as you like.”

“Nightmare,” Matty repeated. He bit back a giggle. “So literal. I could just call you Mr. Scary Monster Man.”

He flinched as soon as the words left his mouth. He’d meant it as a little joke, but was that, like, mean to say?

But Nightmare only inclined his head. “As you like.”

He was so nice. The nicest demon Matty could have summoned.

Matty grinned at him again, holding up the remote. “Human slashers or creature feature? Just…” Matty bit at his lip, then winced again when he hit the little sore spot from his summoning. He needed to stop doing that. “No, um, torture. I won’t watch torture porn.”

He only had to look into his own memories to see that, and he had no interest.

Nightmare seemed to deliberate for a moment before answering, “Creature feature.”

Matty selected the movie, then held out his Skittles. “Would you like some?”

He was rewarded with a small twist of Nightmare’s lips. “No, sweet. Keep your candies.”

Matty burrowed back into the couch cushions as the movie began, wriggling around. He couldn’t seem to get comfortable, and it took him a moment to realize what the problem was.

He peeked at Nightmare from the corner of his eye and then shifted—slowly, subtly—until he was closer to the demon. Close enough to feel Nightmare’s heat against his arm.

Then Matty was able to settle back into the cushions with a contented sigh.

There. That was better.

They were on their second movie of the night, and Matty’s eyes were going kind of blurry.

Nightmare—literal as the name was, it was fitting enough that Matty couldn’t get it out of his head now that he knew—was watching with the same quiet interest he’d shown the first movie.

Or maybe it was quiet non interest? What did Matty know, really?

Even though Nightmare had said he wouldn’t be bored, Matty was probably being a terrible host right now.

He just couldn’t muster up the energy to do anything more.

Nightmare had been truthful before: the contract had taken it out of Matty.

Passing out didn’t seem to have helped at all, maybe because Matty hadn’t been unconscious for long.

Now his eyelids were getting heavy and he was out of sour Skittles. He needed something else to munch on. Sour was good; sour helped keep him alert. Did he have Sour Straws stashed anywhere? Had he finished those already?

Before Matty could search for them, Nightmare’s low rasp cut through the falsetto scream on the TV. “You need rest, little human.”

Matty blinked at him. Nightmare was still watching the movie, his sharp side profile on display. “This is restful.”

“Allow me to clarify: You need sleep.”

“Oh no.” Matty let out a humorless laugh. “I don’t sleep.”

Nightmare slowly turned his head to face Matty. “That is a lie, little human. I have been in your dreams.”

Matty fidgeted with the edge of his blankets, folding them over one way and then back again. “Well, sometimes I drift off accidentally . And then I have the—the nightmares. And then I wake up again.” He tried for a smile, falling a bit short. “It’s a whole cycle.”

“Lack of sleep can drive a human into psychosis. I know. I have done it.”

Oh. That was interesting. Nightmare didn’t just scare people in their dreams; he also drove them mad. Did he kill them too? Was he like some sort of dream assassin?

Matty decided immediately that the answer wouldn’t change how he felt about his demon. Kai had killed tons of people, and he was wonderful .

“You will sleep,” Nightmare ordered.

“No.” The word fell from Matty’s lips before he could stop himself.

“No?”

“No.” Oops. There it was again.

The air in the room went still, and suddenly it was a little hard for Matty to get oxygen into his lungs. He’d gotten used to Nightmare’s silent presence beside him on the couch, but now he realized just how giant the demon next to him was, especially with those antlers.

Matty still wasn’t afraid of him, exactly. Nightmare was here to keep Matty safe, and Matty believed that deep down in his bones.

But he was definitely getting the impression that Nightmare wasn’t a demon many people said no to.

Maybe Matty should be afraid. Maybe Nightmare was going to lash out with those talons as a punishment for talking back, slice through Matty’s blankets and deep into his flesh.

Matty could suddenly hear his stepfather’s voice, clear as day. Take your punishment, Matteo. We need to make you stronger. That is, if Dominico doesn’t kill you first.

But Nightmare didn’t lunge or growl or even frown. He just looked at Matty with blank white eyes. “I will stay with you while you sleep.”

“In—in my room?” Matty asked.

Nightmare inclined his head regally. So that was a yes to a slumber party.

Tempting…

“In my bed?” Matty asked hopefully. He’d probably be able to sleep at least a little bit, if he had Nightmare’s inhuman warmth within reach.

“In your room ,” Nightmare repeated.

Matty had the strange, foreign urge to pout.

As if Nightmare sensed it in him, his lips tilted up at the corners in an almost smile. “I siphon fear, Matteo. I walk in dreams. You won’t have nightmares with me here, either in your bed or outside of it.”

It was almost too much to bear, that spark of hope Nightmare’s words ignited.

A physical protector, sure, that was what Matty had been looking for when he summoned a demon.

But the bad dreams had been plaguing Matty nightly since he’d escaped his old life, stealing his sleep and bits of his sanity.

They had been making it impossible to get his feet underneath him, no matter that he had Sascha and Kai helping him at every turn.

And here was Nightmare—the living embodiment of exactly what Matty had been struggling with—telling him he didn’t have to worry anymore.

It was official: Matty had summoned the best demon there was. The perfect demon.

“Can you stay forever?”

He’d meant it as a joke, but the words came out much too sincere. Pleading.

Luckily, Nightmare didn’t seem to mind. He bared his jagged teeth at Matty again. “Show me to your room, sweet.”

Matty scrambled out of his blankets, standing and holding out his hand. Nightmare cocked his head, and Matty held his breath. After a long moment, Nightmare took his hand.

Matty turned before Nightmare could see his grin, gently tugging his demon out of the living room, up the stairs, and to the door of the room Sascha and Kai had given Matty, at the very end of the upstairs hallway.

Matty pointed at the door across from it. “The bathroom is right here across the hall. I’m going to brush my teeth. I’m trying not to get any more cavities.”

Nightmare nodded, releasing Matty’s hand and ducking his head to enter Matty’s room. Matty rushed into the bathroom, getting through his nightly routine as quickly as possible.

He entered his room to find his bedside lamp already on, and Nightmare sitting in the creaky wooden chair in the corner, bathed once again in shadow, his white eyes shining in the darkness.

Matty slipped out of his sweatshirt, which left him in an equally oversize T-shirt and his sweatpants. He climbed into bed, shuffled under the covers, and turned on his side to face the demon in the corner.

“I usually keep my light on,” he admitted after a moment.

“You may still, if you like,” Nightmare told him. “Or you may turn it off. I’ll be here either way.”

Matty shut off the light, giving it a try. The room was darker, but he still had the little night-light in the shape of a lighthouse plugged in—a gift from Sascha—along with Nightmare’s glowing eyes.

This would work.

Matty lay there, willing himself to sleep. But though his eyes were heavy and dry, he kept staring into the corner, where his demon stared back at him.

“Close your eyes, Matteo.”

There was a pattern there, Matty was pretty sure. “Sweet” when Nightmare was coaxing, “Matteo” when he was ordering. Matty took note. He didn’t usually like hearing his first name in full like that, but it wasn’t so bad in Nightmare’s hoarse rasp.

Instead of closing his eyes, Matty scooted back in bed until there was a space next to him on the outside edge. “Just until I fall asleep,” he pleaded. “Please.”

He waited for the weary sigh or sarcastic snort, the telltale nonverbal cues that Matty and his weakness were a burden. But he didn’t get any. Instead, Nightmare slipped silently from his shadows, gliding closer to the bed like a wraith in the dark.

A weight on the bed. Smoke and fog. Heat.

Nightmare had gotten rid of his antlers somehow, though he was still almost too tall for Matty’s bed. He sat half-upright against the headboard, hands clasped together on his chest.

Matty reached out, his fingertips just shy of touching Nightmare’s side. He sighed happily, letting his eyes fall closed. “Thank you, Scary,” he whispered.

A huff of near-silent laughter was the last thing Matty heard before drifting into sleep.