“Not anymore, athough he’s still knocking about in here. Completely mortified but he’s still there,” he grinned, before narrowing his eyes on the warlock before laughing to himself. “Who’s progeny are you?”
Klaire felt herself grow cold as the demon revealed himself, she started to panic, breath quickening as she faced a demon of the same status as her father. In her panicked state one of the dead bodies near her froze, her grip on magic beginning to slip, but she swallowed before answering. “I don’t know my father. Matt is my friend, so if you could let him go. He doesn’t need your actions on his shoulders.”
Ravens and Writing Desks 