“Wait,” I said, a feeling of discomfort in my belly because she was getting a little ahead of herself. “Can I talk to him about it first? I’m not sure he’s too keen on people knowing the extent of his abilities.”
“Of course,” Mum replied. “Talk to him. There’s no rush. Just let him know that help is available if he wants it.”
“Okay,” I said. “Moving on. Did you find any information on the demon yet?”
She shared another look with Dad, then took my hand and led me over to sit on my bed. “Not much, but there is talk among the supernaturals about a horned man being spotted around the city.” A shiver ran down my spine.
“Do you mean a horny man?” Grace asked in a clear effort to inject some humour into the tense conversation. “Because I’m sure there are plenty of those about.”
My mother shot her a mildly amused look. “No, cheeky madam, I mean a man with horns. I suspect this is his demon form. Most demons who live in Tribane prefer their human form, which is what has made this person stand out. No one knows what his purpose is yet, but anyone who has encountered him has sensed immense power.”
I swallowed thickly, visions of a devil-like creature with horns out there, hungry for my demise. “Peter had a theory that the demon who marked me might be the one drumming up dissent among the vampires,” I said.
“You told Peter about your mark,” my mother said, sounding concerned.
“He was the one who introduced me to Clay Kanumba. They’re friends. And I know I can trust Peter. He let me see inside his mind. There was no ill-will there.”
My parents stared at each other again, and I started to wonder if they could mind-talk like Peter and I could. That wasn’t it, though. They’d merely been together so long that they were able to have entire conversations with nothing but their eyes. It was a fascinating thing to watch, and I could only hope that one day I’d find someone who understood and loved me as deeply as my parents loved and understood each other.
“It’s possible that this demon is influencing the vampires. They can meddle in people’s heads, make them feel things they wouldn’t otherwise be feeling,” Mum explained, echoing what Peter said to me back at the library.
“It would also explain why Mr Williams was killed in the manner he was. A demon wouldn’t have drained his blood, but a vampire would,” I said.
“I’ll investigate that angle,” Dad replied before levelling me with a strict look. “No more leaving the house unsupervised until this matter is resolved. I don’t care if you get bored. Your safety is more important than your entertainment.”
“It won’t happen again,” I promised, eyes downcast. Nothing felt worse than my father’s disapproval, and I was certain he’d more than disapprove if he knew I’d gone out hoping to catch a glimpse of the demon in question.
“Make sure that it doesn’t.”
My parents went, leaving me alone with Grace and Rebecca. “Well, this sucks,” Grace said. “What if they never find the horny man? Are you supposed to stay indoors forever?”
“It’s a man with horns,” Rebecca corrected. “A demon. And they’re only acting out of fear for Darya’s safety. It’s not like our parents want to lock her up forever. They’ve always given both of us as much freedom as possible.”
“Dad will find him,” I said as I lay back on my bed. “Or the demon will find me. Whichever happens first. So, it won’t go on forever, but only because I might be dead.”
Grace smacked me on the arm. “Don’t say that!”
“It’s the truth,” I replied, a swirl of fear circling in my belly. All my life, I’d felt strong and capable. Fighting was my talent, but I was likely no match for a demon, especially if it were true that people had sensed immense power from him.
“Okay, well, I’m staying over again. I’m too scared to leave you on your own right now. And at least if anyone tries to creep in your window, I’ll be here to bite them.”
“I wouldn’t recommend it,” Rebecca said. “Demon blood is notoriously unpalatable.”
“Really?” Grace asked. “I didn’t know that.”
“It’s true. Aunt Delilah told me she fought a demon during the war, and when she bit him, his blood tasted like sour milk.”
“Oh, gross,” I said, scrunching up my face.
“How about we go back to our show? We can fall into the bustles and petticoats and forget about our worries?” Grace suggested, then looked to Rebecca. “Want to join us?”
My sister shook her head. “I have some papers to mark. I’ll be in my room if you need me.”
She left, and Grace went about lining up the next episode. On instinct, I found myself checking in with Peter.