Page 149 of The Devil's Trials

“This isn’t happening,” Mom says in a near-vacant tone, as if she’s talking to herself. Her cheeks are flushed and her jaw is set tightly. I want more than anything to ease their fear, but there’s nothing I can say that’ll make this easier.

The pressure in my chest expands as the anxiety simmering just beneath the surface twists my stomach into even tighter knots.

“He’s coming here now,” I blurt, unsure how else to say it and running out of time before he arrives.

Mom’s eyes snap to mine before she stands from the couch.

Dad follows suit, holding up his hands as if he’s going to be able to calm her down. “Rachel—”

“Get your daggers ready,” she snaps at him, reaching into the drawer of the side table next to the couch and pulling out a small but no doubt effective obsidian blade.

The sight of it gripped in her hand knocks the air out of my lungs as panic steals over me.

“Mom,no,” I rush to say, standing to put myself between my parents and the front door just as Xander rings the bell.

THIRTY-SEVENXANDER

I stand at the front door with my hands in my jacket pockets after ringing the bell, light flurries falling around me as my breath fills the air with small plumes of fog each time I exhale.

My back straightens as I hear Rachel tell Scott to get a weapon and then Camille’s panicked interjection.

We’re not off to a great start.

The door opens while Camille and her mother continue arguing in another room, and I come face to face with her father.

It only takes a second to confirm he isn’t brandishing a dagger, so I keep my hands in my pockets in an attempt to appear unthreatening.

“You are taking a very big risk coming here,” Scott says in a cold tone, his sharp expression narrowed on me as he stands in the doorway, effectively blocking it.

I nod. “Yes, sir.”

“Camille’s mother is prepared to kill you where you stand,” he continues, his hands clenched into tight fists.

“I understand that.”

“Dad, please,” Camille says from behind him. “Let him in so we can explain how we’re going to bring Danielle back.”

A muscle ticks in Scott’s jaw as he keeps his eyes locked on me. “Watch yourself, demon,” he says in a cold tone. “You misstep an inch, and I will not hesitate to put you down.” His glare doesn’t waver as he steps back and leaves the door open. He stands next to Camille as I walk inside and close the door. While I don’t see a middle-aged human—hunter or not—being a match for my strength, I appreciate the sentiment enough to heed the warning.

The tension is already palpable. Getting into a verbal sparring match with Camille’s parents is best avoided, for her sake.

I can’t say I ever expected to step foot in Camille’s childhood home, but I only allow myself a few seconds to appreciate the warmth of it before turning to Scott. “Is there somewhere we can all speak?”

His gaze shifts from me to Camille, but that does nothing to lessen the tension filling the space we’re in. “Where did your mother go?”

She frowns, glancing behind her momentarily before looking back at her dad. “I think she went to the kitchen. Maybe we should talk in the dining room?”

I’d be less concerned about being attacked if we weren’t going to be within reach of sharp silverware…

I glance at my boots, toeing them off before I shrug off my jacket, hanging it on a hook adjacent to the front door, then follow Camille and Scott. We walk down a hallway into a dining room with an oak table and chair set and a modern chandelier hung above it. The table is set for Christmas dinner and if the situation wasn’t so dire, I could perhaps appreciate how bizarre the whole thing is.

The last thing I expected was to have Christmas dinner with the most notorious demon hunters in the country.

‘Tis the season, I suppose.

Rachel joins us in the dining room with a tense expression and cold stare, and I immediately notice the obsidian dagger she has sheathed against her thigh. She isn’t trying to conceal it from me—no, she wants me to know it’s there and that she won’t hesitate to use it.

Message received.

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