Of course Katie can stay

Katie beams when Marnie agrees that the idea makes a lot of sense. She squeals, acting a bit younger than her 18 years, before going off to call their parents and give them the news. Marnie and Stephen do the dishes.

"You're really good to her," Stephen says. "I know it's probably not your first choice, living with your boyfriend and your sister."

"I don't seem to recall you complaining earlier today with the show we put on," Marnie says. She gently checks him with her hip. She has changed into a pair of yoga pants that make even her butt look big and a fitted, teal T-shirt.

Stephen flicks some soap bubbles at her in retaliation, and the splashing escalates playfully from there. Soon enough, Marnie's top is soaked, her bra visible through the thin material of the T-shirt, and Stephen steps back, admiring the view.

"So, you never did tell me how your day went." Of course he hasn't noticed the amulet on Marnie's neck. She wonders if he will notice that she doesn't take it off when they go to bed that night. Or that she's still wearing it in the morning. If he's true to form, he probably won't remark on it until sometime around Christmas.

Marnie doesn't launch into a detailed explanation. She shrugs and makes a non-committal sound and says that her day was fine but not very productive. They're interrupted by Katie exploding back into the room and landing on the couch. She flicks on the TV and declares an impromptu "movie night."

"When can I move in?" she asks eagerly.

"Well, it will take us a few days to clear the spare room and get a bed delivered. Say, next Tuesday?"

Another squeal, a girly sister-hug, and then movie night. Katie leaves near midnight, giving Marnie a kiss on the lips that is a little more than sisterly and definitely leaves Marnie feeling a little more than sisterly warmth. She and Stephen stay on the couch a bit longer, cuddling through the first half hour or so of a late show, before they both find themselves yawning.

She lets Stephen undress her, delighting in the feel of his familiar touch all along her naked body. They climb into bed together, and he wraps his arms around her. But, truth be told, they're both too tired to think about sex right now. Plenty of time for that in the morning, of course….

Marnie falls asleep easily, but she has a strange and unpleasant dream. Vague images coalesce of a world like their own, but darker, grittier, as if people don't take as much care about the upkeep and maintenance of the buildings and streets in the city. Disconnected sounds and flashes of light follow impressions of a group of bodies pressed together in a public space, naked, writhing. It's an orgy of fantastic proportion, hundreds of people enjoy each other with abandon. And atop it all there sits … Marnie herself, her body curvier and far more vivacious than in real life, her skin aglow with all the runes she saw coating it in the mirror at the institute. Her eyes glow a vicious, insatiable orange. When she opens her mouth, a forked tongue darts out to taste the air, and tiny horns peek out from beneath raven-black hair. It's Marnie, but not a Marnie she or anyone else would happily recognize.

So when the alarm clock wakes her the next day, Marnie is covered in sweat and not particularly rested. She rolls over. The only sign of Stephen is the impression he has left on his side of the bed. He must have gotten up early to go out, either to a job or to meet up with Rashid and talk about their start-up. Marnie yawns and stretches, then she clasps the amulet, wondering for a moment if this was all a bad dream.

You're not that lucky, my pet. Uhazral. Of course.

Well, Marnie could deal with that. It is Saturday. She has nowhere to be. She'll stay at home all day, alone. No way a sex-obsessed demon could corrupt anyone then, right?

You are short-sighted. I have been imprisoned in this stone for longer than the span of your days—a few more do not concern me. I have mastered patience like you would not believe. Stay home if you like, my pet, while I stay with you. Let me stoke your fires, make you truly yearn for release. Eventually you will go out, you will see others—and I can wait. I am not a monster, to spread corruption indiscriminately without thought for art or aesthetic. No, my pet. You will find me to be a more selective taskmaster than that.

So … you won't make me corrupt everyone I see?

Marnie could swear she hears a psychic imprint of laughter. Of course not. That would be very tiring for you, and counterproductive for me. No, I shall impose my will on you at the times of my choosing. I may whisper ideas in your mind, point out all the various options and methods and wonderful opportunities for corruption, but I will not always drive you to strike.

It sounds reassuring, but Marnie can't bring herself to feel anything but revulsion—not just for the demon, but for herself for allowing this to happen. She is far from satisfied by this vague promise to let her get on with her daily routine until it feels that a corrupting influence would make things more interesting. Such assurance does nothing to change the fact that Marnie is still carrying around a time-bomb.

Uhazral is good to its word, though. She gets through Saturday, and Sunday, without incident. It even remains silent when she goes down on Stephen Sunday night, but salty taste of his cum in her mouth is spoiled because she can't be sure any more whether her enjoyment of the sensation is real or the result of the demon's influence. That, and for all its good behaviour, Marnie has the awful feeling that it is merely biding its time, waiting….