Touche. I struggled to keep my breath even. The steep stairs were doing a number on me since the attack. My legs ached, my chest heaved. The adrenaline I’d had while running up with Rachmort was shot. I didn’t need Dimitri to see I was struggling, lest he send me back to bed.
At last, we made it to the top.
Dimitri tried the door to the parapet. “Locked,” he said, giving the handle one final twist.
“It wasn’t before?”
“Not a few days ago, no.” He gave a final glance at the door. “I can fly up and take a look on the parapet if we don’t find anything inside the house.”
“It can wait,” I said. I’d get Rachmort to take me back up, in case Dimitri was compromised.
God, I hated to think of him housing a demon, all because of me. I hated lying to him. Damn, this whole thing was so frustrating.
“Hey,” he said, taking my hand. “What’s that look for?” His lips brushed mine. “If there’s something in this house that can hurt you, we’ll find it.”
“Thanks,” I said, hugging him tight. Hades, I wished I could be sure it wasn’t him hurting me. That would kill him.
His arms wrapped around me lightly, and he patted me on the back. I could tell he was a little confused. Oh, well. He was going to marry me. He’d better get used to it.
I drew back. “Okay, let’s see what we find.” And hope we got lucky.
The start of our search was less productive than I’d hoped, mainly because most of the rooms on this floor had been taken over by Dimitri’s relatives, and the doors were locked.
I was willing to bet there was nothing in the demon slayer handbook about that.
“Are you sure you can’t use your evil sensing powers?” Dimitri asked, trying yet another barred door. “We wouldn’t have time to go through every room even if they were unlocked. Besides, Aunt Zizi will beat my ass if she catches me going through her nighties.”
Frick. He was right. “Okay. New plan. How about we search the public areas?”
He gave me a sideways glance as he tried yet another locked door. “You do realize that the odds of anyone hiding a weapon in the dining room are zero to none.”
He still thought we were looking for poisons and such. This was ridiculous. “Let’s also keep an eye out for evil markers and omens,” I said, as casually as I could. There. I didn’t tell him. I hinted. He deserved a hint.
He knew something was up. Of course he did. He wasn’t an idiot. “Lizzie,” he drew it out, expecting me to say more. He waited, not giving me an inch.
“Trust me, okay?” I said, falling back on a loophole he’d used, oh, about a thousand times.
He knew it, too. He pressed his mouth closed, unhappy. But he didn’t say anything.
We searched both the third and the second floor hallways before moving down to the foyer. The wood walls in the entryway were beautiful. I hadn’t taken the time to really study them before. They were hand-carved in intricate flower and wildlife motifs. I did catch the occasional wooden spider, but that was all. No markers.
It was getting late and the sitting room was clearing out.
“I’ll take the front by the windows, and you take the area by the dining room,” Dimitri said.
So he thought. I’d have to figure out a way to search the whole thing.
Frieda and a bunch of biker witches walked over. She held a cup and saucer, and I was tempted to sniff her tea. “What’s the problem?” she asked.
“Lizzie lost her earring,” Dimitri said. The lie came from him so smoothly I almost believed it myself.
“We’ll help you look,” Frieda offered, much to the annoyance of a few of her companions. They followed Dimitri to the front of the room while I headed the opposite way. There was a card game going on in the dining room, boys versus girls. That should be fun.
“Lizzie,” my mom entered from the hallway. Her hair was flawless. She’d re-done her nails and changed her outfit. Only her eyes betrayed the impact of this afternoon. She was wary, scared. “Are you okay, honey?”
I was ready with a formulaic answer when she rushed to close the distance between us and gave me a real, genuine hug. It felt so good that I almost forgot about our mission down here.
“I’m fine,” I said, swallowing some unexpected emotion. At least I had to think I would be. I drew back to look at her. “Are you? How are you doing with the demon slaying and the biker witches and,” I searched for a way to say it, “Dimitri’s claws.”
She brought her chin up, steeling herself. “I’m going to be fine,” she said, in a way that at least told me that she was determined to make it true.
Mom took my hands, running her fingers over them and inspecting them, like she couldn’t believe I was really okay.
I let out a breath I hadn’t even realized I was holding. “I’d meant to tell you sooner.” I really had.
She nodded a few too many times. “I can see where it would be…difficult.” Tears filled her eyes. “I’m worried about you, honey. Your grandmother says these kinds of attacks happen to you more often than not. I realize she’d hoped to make me feel better, but I don’t want to see you go through this. When you hurt, I hurt.”
I knew she meant well. And I hated to put her through this, but, “Mom, I can’t stop being a demon slayer.”
“I know.” She quickly wiped away a tear. “I’d never ask that.”
That stunned me. “You wouldn’t?”
Creely stood behind mom, giving me the thumbs up. I wondered exactly what the biker witches had told Hillary.
“It wouldn’t stop you anyway,” Hillary said.
“True,” I said slowly, waiting for the other shoe to drop. This wouldn’t be the end of it. Not by a long shot.
She folded her hands in front of her. “Tell me what I can do to help.”
That part was deceptively simple. “You have to keep going,” I told her. We needed everyone to stay, to have fun. My mom was great at organizing groups. “Only,” I didn’t quite know how to tell her this, but, “no more guests.”
She looked at me like I’d sprouted horns. “Your wedding is in two days. Of course there’ll be more guests. We have the VanWillens, and the Frosts. Pipsi Carmichael and her fiance. Oh, and of course Matt Shott and his lovely girlfriend, Kimmy. Matt owns a hockey team.”
She didn’t get it.
“Look, mom—”
“Your father arrives tomorrow.”
“No, mom. Listen to me. There’s still a danger.” Heads in the dining room swiveled our way. “A slight one,” I amended. “We don’t know who or what is after me. So let’s keep this wedding small, and then we can have a nice reception somewhere later.”
A furrow formed between her brows. “We’ll talk about it,” she said, reluctantly. She knew I had a point.
“You said you wanted to help.” I was relieved to see her nod. “I don’t want to be responsible for anyone else getting hurt. Right now, the witches and the griffins can defend themselves, the VanWillens cannot. No more guests, okay?”
She began to argue, then simply said, “okay.”
Mom helped me search the back of the sitting room until we ran into Dimitri’s family. Then she hit up Dimitri with a load of questions on what it was like to be a griffin. I was glad for her curiosity. It meant I could covertly re-check his section and hit the dining room as well. I have to admit I did feel bad for the guy, having to answer things like:
Yes. I wanted to ask her if she remembered the time he fixed breakfast for us.
Because he’s fricking griffin, mom.
And,
Mom went red after that one. Some things, you don’t want to know about your daughter’s fiance.
