“Lacquer. Or maybe some clear glue.”
“You going to erect”—he snorts and I roll my eyes—”a statue in Omen's honor?”
“How the hell would I make a statue out of lacquer? No, I'm going to pour it over the summoning circle so I don't lose it.”
His eyebrows disappear beneath a flop of dark hair. “Well, that is certainly interesting.”
“Can you, like, pop out to the store and get me something?”
Should I be asking a random demon I just met to do me a favor? No. Probably not. My chest tightens and I straighten. I've only asked Omen for favors, though he made it seem like he had to. Other than the desk, I basically forced him to do chores for me. He might still hate it and doesn't want me to preserve the summoning circle.
Dimitri opens his mouth, and I shake my head. “Actually, no. I'm fine. Why are you here? Omen said you left.”
“Oh no, no. You don't get to change the subject like that.”
“I most certainly do. This is my house and you came through my summoning circle.”
He holds up a finger. “Nope. I popped right into your bedroom.” His eyes widen. “Not like that. I didn't…it wasn't on purpose. I don't know who summoned me, but you were sleeping. Then I just disappeared and was in a closet for however long. Now I'm back for whatever reason. I also can't leave without permission, I'm pretty sure.”
“Okay, well, I give you permission to get the hell out of my house.”
He smirks. “I can see why you get under Omen's skin.”
My mouth drops open. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
“Just that you're feisty. Probably keep him on his toes. Don't worry, sweetheart. I'm not complaining. He needs someone who will push back when he needs it—call him out on his bullshit. I try, but I'm not you.” He crosses his arms, leaning against the door frame.
“I…that's not what's…I'm sorry. I don't know what Omen told you, but we're not…I just summoned him. Then basically trapped him here to do my chores.” Whatever fight I had in me vanishes and my shoulders sag. “And I'm not your sweetheart.”
“Duly noted,” he murmurs.
I step away from the shelf. The room is so small I could reach out my hand and touch him. I won't, because that'd be weird, but still. The pull I've felt toward Omen isn't there with Dimitri. He doesn't give me creepy vibes. Not like Brandon. Yet it's nothing like what I feel for Omen.
“Is there something you need, because I don't think giving me advice will do anything,” I snap, frustration lining my voice.
“Whoa there. A little advice never hurt anyone.” He smiles, though it's nothing like the grin before. He reaches out, then pulls back when his hand brushes my arm. “I really think you should?—”
“Dimitri,” Omen growls from behind his friend. I can't see Omen's face, but he doesn't sound happy. Dimitri winces and the skin on his shoulders cracks open. I shake my head and squeeze my eyes shut. When I open them again, the illusion is gone, thankfully. I don't know how much more I can handle today.
Omen yanks Dimitri away and shoves him deeper into the basement against the third closet. There isn't much room for him to stuff himself into, and I almost feel bad for him. Then I catch sight of Omen's face and change my mind about saying something. Not only are his wings brushing the ceiling and his shadows curling around his body, but his tail lashes against the wall. He's glaring at me as if I did something.
“Upstairs. Now,” he growls, his deep voice rumbling through me.
“Omen.” Dimitri's tone holds a warning and Omen snarls, his eyes never leaving mine.
I cross my arms and glare at him. “No.”
“I'm not in the mood for your attitude, little witch. Get upstairs before I throw you over my shoulder.”
“MaybeI'mnot in the mood foryourattitude,little demon,” I snap and Dimitri snorts. It's not the best comeback, but it's the only one I got. “Besides, you wouldn't dare treat me like a sack of potatoes.”
The corner of his mouth twitches. “Wouldn't dare?”
“I am a witch, if you'll remember. I doubt you'd appreciate ephelides all over your body.”
His eyes narrow and Dimitri lets out a wheezing cough. Omen doesn't even spare him a glance, though he should. His friend sounds like he's going to keel over any minute.
I lean forward, trying to get Dimitri in my eyeline. Omen slides forward and fills the doorway to block my view. I don't know why he's acting like a jealous asshole. Or maybe it has nothing to do with jealousy and everything to do with the overlap of his two worlds colliding.
