Nora's POV
The metallic taste of demon blood lingered in my mouth as I stumbled backward off the blood-soaked rug. My bare feet hit the hardwood floor with relief, and I frantically wiped them clean before taking another step.
Lena stood frozen in the doorway, her face pale as porcelain. Her eyes were swollen and red from crying, but now they were wide with shock at the carnage before her.
"I did try calling," she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper. "Your phone kept going straight to voicemail. What the hell happened here?"
I glanced down at my blood-stained clothes, then back at my sister's horrified expression. "Go around to the side entrance. I'll get Evangeline to let you in properly."
For several long seconds, Lena remained motionless, watching as James methodically rolled the demon's corpse into the Persian rug. He worked with practiced efficiency, like this was just another afternoon chore. For us, it practically was.
