Page 52 of Demon Apathy: Sunderverse
Looking bored, Khargon walked to the bar counter, sat at a stool, poured whiskey into a tumbler, and began languidly sipping her drink. The entire time she looked straight at me, making me want to crawl under the couch. My attention nervously flicked back and forth between her and Drevan. At some point, she pulled something out of her pocket, which turned out to be a fidget spinner. Still looking at me, she flicked the thing and sent it whirling, her expression a combination of hunger and indifference that suggested she might be contemplating how I might look without my head on.
Shit, the demon hates me!
Oblivious to the interaction, Drevan explained to Lunar what she was going to tell her brother to offer proof of life. When he was done, he looked at me, searching for approval.
I nodded. “Yeah, sounds good.” I struggled to focus and ignore Khargon’s hostile attention. I took a step closer to Lunar. “Um, maybe if you can remind Solar of something special you two share, like a memory or a common favorite thing. Something to make him miss you. Does anything come to mind?”
Lunar’s blue eyes sparkled as if she knew exactly what she needed to say. Putting on a forced smile, she nodded, lifted a shaking finger, and dialed her brother’s phone number.
19
“Yes,Solar,it’sme,”Lunar whispered into the burner phone Drevan had given her. She then proceeded to turn on the speaker so that we all could hear.
Khargon stopped twirling her fidget spinner.
On the other end, Solar let out a whimper of relief. “Oh, my God! It’s really you. Where are you? Are you okay? Have they hurt you?”
“I’m okay,” she answered a bit too casually.
Drevan shook his head and used his fingers to mimic tears falling down her cheeks. Lunar nodded and immediately let out a convincing sniffle. Next, her eyes filled with wavering tears. It seems she had inherited some of her mother’s acting abilities.
“Where are you?!” Solar repeated urgently.
“I don’t know. I’m trapped in some building. I just managed to slip away from the room where they’re keeping me,” Lunar stage whispered, her tone sounding desperate.
Drevan nodded in approval.
“Can you find a way out?” Solar asked.
“I don’t know where to go. God, they’re gonna find me! There’s this guy. His name is Richie. I’m afraid he’s going to...”
“Oh, shit!” Solar cursed.
Drevan gave her a thumbs up, encouraging her to keep going.
“He’s horrible,” she went on. “I’m so scared. I think he’s working with demons, Sol. They’re mean and vicious. You have to help me. You have to find me. Please, I—”
“Hey, what the hell are you doing?” Drevan’s voice boomed, startling me.
Lunar shrieked convincingly, then Khargon threw her fidget spinner all the way from her spot at the bar, hit the phone, and sent it flying off the table. It landed on the floor, clattering. Reaching down, Drevan picked it up and swiftly disconnected the call.
“That was excellent!” he said. “Good job not forgetting to mention Richie. That will ensure Solar won’t get anyone else involved.”
Lunar beamed, looking proud of herself. “I keep telling my mom I would do well in Hollywood, but she says it’s not for me.”
Drevan clapped his hands together. “Well, now we just need to wait for your brother to call Lucia.”
I pulled out my phone, wondering if he really would and how long it would take him to do it. “What if he can’t remember my number?”
“He does,” Khargon called from her stool in a tired voice as she examined her fingernails. “I’ve been keeping a close eye on him, and he wrote it down. He had the last number wrong, but I made a slight correction.”
Drevan dusted his hands as if he’d been doing some hard manual labor. “Now, it’s a waiting game.” He turned in my direction and pointed toward the elevator. “I should drive you back to the league. You should get some sleep or maybe you have some studying to do.”
“Yeah, sure.” I walked away, feeling Khargon’s eyes on the back of my neck. Just to test the accuracy of my intuition, I glanced back over my shoulder, and sure enough, she was practicing her death-stare—not like she needed to, she was already an expert at it and could probably teach a class at a Ph.D. level. Dr. Khargon, Professor of Comparative Death Glares.
Drevan joined me as I reached the elevator and punched thedownbutton. Leaning close to him, I whispered, “Is Khargon your girlfriend?”
He frowned. “No. What gives you that idea?”
