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I did it again, didn’t I?
Peter, it’s okay.
I’m so sorry.
Don’t apologise. It’s fine. But you should get going. My mum just got home, and she might come up here.
Peter nodded, quickly climbing from the bed. It looked like he was about to teleport when a perturbed expression crossed his features.
Darya, did you have any, uh, strange dreams last night?
I’m not sure what you mean, I lied. But can we talk about it later? I think I hear her coming up the stairs.
Okay, I’ll go. See you at school.
With that, he disappeared, and I was relieved to delay the imminent conversation about our shared horny dream. If it even was a dream. I finished dressing, then headed downstairs to see why Mum and Rita were having an annoyingly loud and dramatic conversation at such an early hour.
“We almost had him!” I heard Rita exclaim as I walked down the stairs.
“It’s infuriating,” Mum said. “Every time we think we’re close, he manages to kill the trail.”
I arrived in the kitchen doorway. Dad sat by the counter; his hair, which was almost the exact same shade as mine, was messy. The commotion had clearly woken him.
“I’m sure you’ll get him next time,” Dad said as he grabbed hold of Mum’s wrist and tugged her close. He kissed her jaw affectionately before pulling her in for a hug.
“I take it you still haven’t caught the demon,” I said, going over to turn on the coffee machine. Yes, even we dhampirs benefited from caffeine when we were tired.
“He’s the bane of our existence right now,” Rita groaned. “It’s like he’s always a step ahead. I hate it when you’re up against someone whose magic is just that little bit stronger than yours.”
I furrowed my brow as I slotted a capsule into the machine. “I thought he was a demon. How does he have magic?”
“My guess is he has a sorcerer working for him,” Rita replied.
“Or,” Mum countered, “he’s not a full demon.”
“Meaning he’s half demon, half warlock?” I asked. The only person I knew who matched that description was Clay Kanumba, but it couldn’t be him. For one, he hadn’t come from another dimension, and secondly, he didn’t have horns. Then again, it was easy enough to glamour such features, but—
“That would be a rare combination,” Rita said. “Demons aren’t typically very attracted to us magical folk because we can counteract their little mind tricks with our spells. They much prefer humans who are far more susceptible to demon powers.”
I cleared my throat. “The warlock I visited at the Market Below is half demon, so it can’t be that rare.”
“You mean Clay?” Rita said. “The guy we’re after couldn’t possibly be him. Clay’s only in his early twenties, and this demon is at least a century old if not two. Clay’s not nearly old enough to have such powers. Plus, he was born and bred in Tribane, so…” she trailed off, shrugging.
“I’m sorry we haven’t caught him yet, honey,” Mum said. “I hate keeping you cooped in this house.”
“It’s fine. I’d prefer to be out helping you guys track the demon, though,” I said, and Dad shot me a warning look.
“That won’t be happening.”
I groaned and went to finish making my cup of coffee.
“By the way, Angela woke up early this morning,” Dad said, and I almost spilled my coffee.
“She did? Can we go to see her before you drop me off at school?” I asked eagerly.
He shook his head. “The Guard is planning to question her today. They want to get a description of her attacker. My guess is she won’t be up to visitors for a few hours after that, but I’ll take you on the way home after school.”
“Okay,” I allowed, even though I wanted to rush out the door and drive to the hospital right away.
“Well, I’m going to grab a few hours of sleep,” Mum said before glancing at Rita. “You can rest in one of the spare bedrooms if you’re too tired to make it home.”
“I think I’ll take you up on that offer,” Rita replied, and they both headed upstairs. I finished my coffee then went to change into my uniform. Dad drove Rebecca and me to St. Bastian’s, which was becoming habitual at this stage. I was also pretty sure he parked the car and went to scope the grounds after he dropped us off each day.
As we went through the entrance, my nerves started to build at the prospect of seeing Peter. He would want to talk about our dream, and I wasn’t sure I could handle that. I mean, if it wasn’t a dream, then that meant we’d … I was too mortified to even think about it. If it wasn’t a dream, how had we not woken up? Were we in some kind of magical sleep state?
