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“Maybe you should have,” he says, a half-smile on his lips. “She thinks about them a lot.”
“Are you jealous, demon?”
He smirks. “You don’t like talking about yourself.”
“Occupational hazard,” I say. “I’m a better listener than I am a talker.”
“She likes to hear you talk,” he says under his breath. “She likes to hear you ask her to call you father. Turns her on.”
I can’t really tell if Malon is trying to pick a fight or if he’s coming onto me. I watch as Trine rings the bell next to the iron wrought gates. Nothing happens.
“Such a shame you took the cloth,” he says. “She thinks you’re a great fuck.”
I try to swallow down my anger, snapping back to look at him. “Can you stop?”
“Sure,” he says, his gaze sliding up and down my body until it finally lands on my mouth. “If you want me to stop. But do you, Father?”
I open my mouth to tell him to back off. At least that’s what I think I should say, but I can feel the blood rushing to my cheeks as he looks at me. I probably shouldn’t let him get to me.
He’s a demon, he’s obviously just trying to get in my head. I know better than to let him.
Before the conversation can go any further, the wrought iron gate opens with a clink. The engine squeals over the pavement as it opens up.
“It’s a long walk,” Trine says, looking over her shoulder. “Let’s hurry.”
“She might come pick us up with the golf cart,” Bryony says, catching up with her. “She’s done that before.”
“Not when we just dropped in on her,” Trine replies. They’re walking ahead of the four of us, having a conversation as if we’re not there. “Particularly not when we’re bringing guests.”
“Maybe we should’ve texted her first,” Bryony says.
Trine nods.
After that, none of us really say anything. I don’t know what the plan is, but Trine wasn’t joking when she said that this was a long walk. The road to the house winds around and around, until the trees finally give way and a giant mansion appears in the distance.
It’s the kind of place I’ve only ever seen in movies. It’s huge and imposing with a brick exterior, and it looks like the kind of place that has a name, like someone’s last name with Hall or Manor after it.
“I know, right?” Trine says next to me. I didn’t realize she had started to lag behind. “Trust me, the first time I saw this place, I felt exactly the same way.”
“Who does it belong to?” I ask.
“Alana’s parents,” she says.
I raise my eyebrows.
“Our drummer,” Bryony answers for her. “She’s…a little wealthier than you’d expect her to be.”
I laugh. “Yeah, I can see that.”
“Her parents travel a lot, and so she has this apartment in the city because it’s much closer to everything than their Lake Nona estate, but she comes here when the semester starts because she thinks there’s less distraction. And she’s kind of a recluse,” Trine says, then her shoulders drop as she hugs herself. “Anyway, she told me that if I needed anything, I could always come here. After everything that happened with my mom.”
She means after she saw her die in a fire after we were attacked by demons, but she doesn’t have to say that.
Alana, a tiny girl with dyed blonde hair with red streaks, opens the door. “Hi,” she says, the smile on her face waning a little as her gaze flits between our faces. “Shit. We probably need to order some food or something.”
TRINE
I’m not sure why, but Alana’s house always smells like day-old French bread and those laundry beads you can get at the grocery store. I know she has a cleaning person come every other day, but the house is pretty big and Alana is a relatively messy person.
