Reign of Night (Thorne Hill 7)

“Sure. Your tits look nice in that dress.”

“I had no idea the can of worms you seeing me naked would open.”

“What?” She shrugs. “I admire and appreciate all bodies. And yours just happens to be very nice.”

A lot of vampires are bisexual, and I suppose I might bat for the other team every now and then if I lived for hundreds of years. Well, and if I wasn’t married, though I’m not totally opposed to a threesome.

Eliza leans over the counter, and I turn around, holding up my phone for a picture.

“Oh, speaking of nice bodies,” she says when Easton’s name pops up on the screen. “He’s another one of your friends I’d like to taint with darkness.”

“Gross,” I say and lower my hand to answer. “Hello?”

“Hey, Callie. You’re in Chicago, right?”

“Yeah, how do you know that, you creep?”

“Melinda follows you on Instagram,” he tells me.

“Oh, right. Is everything okay?”

“I think so, but Melinda insisted I call you,” he says, and I can hear her in the background, telling him to give her the phone so she can talk to me.

“Why?”

“We have a demon,” he starts.

“Have?” I interrupt. “Like you have a demon problem, or you have a demon tied up in your living room?”

“Uh, tied up, but we’re in an abandoned building, not my living room.”

“And you need my help?”

“No. I can handle demons. This one, though, he’s a chatty son of a bitch and mentioned you by name.”Chapter 12“By name?” I repeat, even though I heard Easton loud and clear. “You’re sure he meant me?”

“Unless he’s talking about a different Callista.”

“What else did he say?”

“We don’t know. He’s only speaking Latin. Melinda is trying to transcribe some of it. You were taught Latin in school, weren’t you?”

“Yeah, but I didn’t do very well, and I’ve retained even less. Lucas speaks it, though.”

“Right, he’s old enough to have lived in a time when it wasn’t a dead language,” he says, and I’m not sure if he’s trying to insult me or not. Easton’s made it very clear that he doesn’t think I should have married a vampire, though he’s becoming more accepting of it. Or he’s finally realized nothing he says is going to change my mind, and he’s not really one to talk, considering he tricked me into a fake relationship that felt very real to me and ended when I realized his plan was to kill me all along.

“Where are you? I’m in Lincoln Park right now but can leave here ASAP.”

“Wicker Park. I’ll send you a pin with our location.”

“Be careful until I get there,” I tell him.

“I can handle a demon,” he repeats. “Be careful, too.”

“I always am.” I end the call and meet Eliza’s gaze. “A witch’s work is never done.”

“Apparently not. Have fun telling Lucas you’re back to hunting demons.”

“I’m not hunting this one. It’s already been hunted and is tied up and waiting for me to force answers out of him,” I say, forgetting I’m in a public setting, which isn’t the first time I’ve said something out loud like this. I avoid the curious looks from the patrons going up to get a drink from Vampire Barbie as they call Eliza, which is a very accurate name, by the way. She’s impossibly gorgeous, with long, blond hair, perfectly winged eyeliner, and likes to dress in pastel colors more often than not.

The office door is closed but not locked, and Lucas is sitting at the desk, looking over the reports.

“So I have some interesting news.” I close the door behind me and go over to the desk. “Easton just called and—”

“I’m blocking his number.”

“No, you’re not.”

“You’re mine, he has feelings for you, and I don’t like him calling you.”

“I am yours,” I say, dropping my purse and coat on the little tufted bench in front of the desk. “By choice because I just happen to, you know, love you. I can be friends with Easton.”

“But I don’t have to like it.”

“Vampire possessiveness aside, you’ll want to hear this.”

Lucas closes the laptop, which has a pink sparkly skin, and looks at me. “Okay.”

“They have a demon who’s only speaking Latin but did say the name Callista, and there’s a good chance that demon is talking about me.”

“They currently have it?”

“Yeah, tied up in some building in Wicker Park. They don’t know what he’s saying since they don’t speak Latin.”

“Typical uneducated hunters.”

I ignore his comment, though there is some truth to it. Most hunters don’t receive a traditional education. Only the lucky ones graduate from high school. I’m not sure if Easton ever went back and got his GED or not, but I do know he made sure Melinda was able to not only graduate, but finish her senior year at the same school because she’d made friends.

“My Latin ain’t what it used to be, either.”