So, here I am. Sitting in my car, parked two houses down from the address I pulled from Lukas’s phone. Why two houses down? Because parking directly in front of the house feels like announcing ‘Hey, I’m here to spy on you!’ Not that this is any less obvious, but it makes me feel slightly smarter. Except now, sitting here, I realise I don’t actually have a plan. At all. What am I supposed to do if Lukas is actually in there? Or worse, what if he’s not? How am I even going to figure it out without walking right up to the door and giving myself away? Maybe I should’ve brought Roxy after all. She probably would’ve sniffed him out immediately. And if he IS in there, then what? Do I just barge in and start yelling? Knock politely and hope for the best? Say, hey would you mind just letting him go please? What if there’s a dozen people inside? Or if they’re all dangerous? How many relatives does Lukas have anyway? And how many of them are involved in all this? My heart sinks. This might be one of my worst plans yet. Except for maybe that time I tried dying my hair black as a teenager. For one deluded night I thought I could pull off the whole dark goth princess look. Hint: I definitely could not. I always do this, I rush ahead without thinking it through. Why am I like this? Screw it. I don’t have a better idea, so I’m just going to knock on the door and wing it. Probably not my smartest decision, but sitting in this car doing nothing isn’t going to help Lukas. I glance at my phone, suddenly aware of how reckless this is. I compose a quick SOS text to Laura, including the address and a simple ‘If something happens, I’m here.’ I don’t hit send, though. Instead, I leave it open, ready to fire off with a single tap if things go badly. Is it a solid backup plan? Not even close. But it’s better than nothing right? I take a deep breath, straighten my glasses, and smooth down my hair in an effort to feel more put together. Then, with a confidence I absolutely do not feel, I march up the cobblestone footpath, past a set of perfectly pruned rose bushes, and up to the front door. I raise my hand to knock, but then I freeze. Raised voices drift out from inside, muffled but definitely agitated. I lean in closer, trying to make out what they’re saying, all thoughts of knocking forgotten.
I can hear… Maybe four people in the house? Possibly more. At least one voice belongs to a woman, Lukas’s mother, I’m guessing. Not even pretending to be subtle, I press my ear against the door. Anyone walking past on the street would know I’m eavesdropping, but I couldn’t care less right now. The muffled voices are difficult to follow. It sounds like they’re arguing about ‘him.’ Lukas, obviously. But the conversation is so vague that piecing it together feels like trying to solve a puzzle with half the pieces missing. Probably because I missed the first half of the argument. I catch snippets here and there. One of the men, maybe two? Are raising their voices, clearly arguing against the woman’s plan. She’s defending it fiercely, insisting it’s the only way to protect the family, that they have no choice and that it’s the right thing to do. There’s a desperation in her tone, but I don’t feel sorry for her. They’re talking about kidnapping Lukas, right? They must be. As if there’s any situation where that would be okay. Then, one of the male voices cuts through the chaos, his frustration boiling over.
“You basically traded him to a demon!” He exclaims, his voice sharp. And just like that, their cryptic conversation makes a horrifying amount of sense. Lukas’s family didn’t just get tangled up with a demon, they specifically traded Lukas. Traded him. For what I have no idea. Does it even matter? My mind races as I struggle to comprehend this. Of course, they’re working with a demon, we already figured out that much. But this? This is betrayal on a whole other level. The anger that floods through me is instant. How dare they? How could they? Right, I’ve decided that if this is what Lukas’s family is like, he doesn’t need them. I’m cutting them off permanently on his behalf. Except for maybe that guy who was arguing, whoever he is. The next thing I know, I’m no longer standing still. I don’t stop to worry. I don’t think about how many people are inside or what magic they might have. I don’t even second guess the fact that I’m about to break into someone’s home. The fury burning through me demands action. I reach for the magic inside me, and with a burst of energy I blast their front door wide open.
The door flies open with a deafening crack, shards of wood splintering as my magic completely obliterates the lock and hinges. Whoa. I didn’t mean to hit it that hard. I planned to open it, not destroy it. But there’s no time to worry about property damage, they deserve it anyway. The sound echoes through the house and the argument ends as everyone falls silent. I step over the shattered remains of the doorframe. The house is totally pristine. Decorated all in creams and tans, the kind of thing you’d see in a high end magazine. Beautiful? Sure, but completely empty of personality. It screams don’t touch anything. The kind of house where the couch is probably more decorative than functional. No fun movie nights happening here.
“What the hell is going on?” A deep, angry voice bellows from deeper in the house. Heavy, stomping footsteps approach, and a large man steps into view at the end of the hallway. He stops short when he sees me, his expression shifting from confusion to anger when he sees the damage I’ve done to the house.
“Who the hell are you?” He barks out the words. I look him over carefully. He looks kind of luke Lukas, but older. Though not by too many years so I doubt that this is his dad. I’m guessing this is his uncle. They share a similar build, but where Lukas has a calm, composed personality, this man radiates hostility, and I don’t think it’s only because I just smashed a door in.
“Where is Lukas?” I snap, my voice sharp with barely contained anger. He takes a step toward me, but I don’t give him the chance to close the distance. Magic surges through me instinctively, and I throw out a quick blast, not aimed at him, but over his shoulder. The energy slams into the wall, leaving a scorched black mark. He freezes in place, suddenly a little more hesitant. A second figure appears in the hallway, her movements precise and controlled. I don’t need to ask who she is, the cool, distant expression tells me everything. Lukas’s mother. Her posture is stiff, her face calm, but her eyes… There is something off about her eyes. They seem… Distracted. Like she’s already thinking about something else.
“You must be that Mead girl my Lukas has been running around with.” She says smoothly, her voice carrying a condescending politeness that pisses me off. And how dare she call him ‘her Lukas.’ She clearly doesn’t actually care about him.
“Where is he?” I demand again, louder this time. She tilts her head, a patronising smile plastered on her face.
“This is a family matter, young lady. You should mind your own business and leave now.” She says, her tone is like she’s reprimanding a child, not confronting an intruder. What is wrong with this woman?! I glare at her, magic burning at my fingertips.
“You traded your own son to a demon!” I yell, my voice rising and becoming more high pitched with my agitation. Her expression hardens, and the man, her brother, probably steps forward, his face a mask of barely contained rage.
“You need to leave. Now.” He growls, his tone low and threatening. I meet his glare head on.
“I’m not going anywhere without Lukas.” I say firmly, raising my hands slightly as the magic in me builds. I doubt I look intimidating, but I don’t care. I’m not backing down.