Out of the Lamp

Chapter 20: Warned

Breathe.

My eyes have been locked onto the front door since Jason dropped me off three hours ago.

It's almost ten pm now. Dad has been gone four house "fetching" my mother from the safe keep. I've almost ripped my scalp off in anticipation and agitation. My fingernails are none existent and I've almost paced a hole long enough to act as my grave in the middle of the carpet.

The doorbell rings.

Odd.

Dad has the keys, right?

My palms are so sweaty I have to wipe them on my trousers before forcing my statue still legs to cooperate. It's like I'm doing some shit ass robot dance as I walk rigidly over to the door.

All my movements feel slowed down and the tiniest details and sounds feel magnified. Reaching the door. Holding the handle. Feeling the cool metal. Hearing it twist. Metal scraping on wood. Twisting it. The lock unclips. Pulling it open. Wood creaking and groaning in protest. My eyes landing on two bare feet...

'Surprise!' Daemon yells gloriously. Standing in my doorframe with a manic smile like a child on Halloween.

I breathe out a heavy sigh of relief.

'It's just you.'

He frowns instantly. 'What's that supposed to mean? Who else were you expecting?' He watches me walk away. 'Oh, and you're not even going to invite me in? How rude.'

I turn back to face him and scoff. Disbelief written all over my face. 'Seriously? Like you've ever needed something so common as a mortals mannerisms of invitation.' Rolling. My. Eyes.

'Otherwise I can't step across the threshold-'

'Don't even try it moron, you're no vampire and this isn't a movie.' I tuck my feet under me on the single armchair as I settle down.

He sighs heavily. 'You never stick to my scripts.'

He bends to duck in below the doorframe and fills up my living room with his bulk. He opts to stretch out fully on the three seater sofa, his great hulking size making it look like a toy sofa instead.

Behind him, follows in Cupid.

'Cupid?'

'Rhymes with Alia is stupid!' He does jazz hands cheerfully and I give him a sour look. Real mature.

'What're you doing here?'

He raises a slender white blonde brow at me. 'So you let the half-demon fairy boy walk in without invitation, and I get the suspicious interrogation?' He feigns hurt and clutches at his heart. 'Got the love-god right in his aorta, Al.' (Pronounced aaahl)

I roll my eyes and speak in a bored monotone. 'By all means, make yourself at home oh highly desired presence of the one and only diaper-butt.'

Daemon sniggers like a child and I throw him a sharp look. His pervy tendencies meant there was no way he was off the hook. I was only tolerating him today because this stuff with my mother was more than enough to drain me.

Cupid looks from the fully occupied long sofa to my arm chair. And of course he chooses to perch on the armrest of my chair. I shuffle a bit but don't protest. A look passes between the two Immortals. That silent conversation thing again.

'So...?' I query cautiously.

Having two extremely powerful Immortals under one roof was never a comfortable thing. Especially when one idiot was half-demon of Hades' blood and the other nit is an overly mischievous love guru with no sense of privacy.