Page 34 of The Fanged One

17

Von's townhouse sat on a quiet street in Frogner, three stories of respectable red brick with a green copper roof and a heavy oak door carved with a protection bind rune.

Arne pulled the SUV up to the curb, and the six of them spilled out onto the pavement in a tangle of coats and boots and Ciara complaining that Tor had stepped on the back of her shoe.

Linnea looked up at the house and tried to reconcile its posh and proper appearance with the man who owned it.

Fenris was standing close enough at her shoulder that the sleeve of his jacket was brushing her elbow.

This is fine, she told herself, shoving her hands into her pockets so she wouldn't touch him.

We aren't fine. We are horny, her wolf corrected.

Be quiet. We have work to do.

Doing the work. Standing very close to him. Excellent multitasking.

Layla reached up and used the bronze knocker, which was a snake biting its own tail. The door swung open immediately, as if Von had been waiting on the other side with his ear pressed to the wood.

"Welcome, darlings, to my humble abode of arcana and mystery." Von threw one arm wide and bowed at the waist. "Touch nothing in case it bites."

"My guy, we need to get you a top hat if you're going to carry on like that," Layla said, smooching his cheek.

Von's long blond hair was loose down his back, and he was wearing dark jeans and a black K-Pop Demon Hunter T-shirt.

Fenris tilted his head and looked at the T-shirt for a long moment. "What is a K-pop?"

Von's mouth fell open, and Tor's hand quickly covered it. "No, Von, we don't have time. End of the world is coming."

Layla made a delighted sound at the back of her throat. Linnea pressed both hands over her mouth and tried not to laugh as Von dragged Tor's hand away.

"Oh, my sweet ancient summer child," Von breathed. He clapped his hand to his chest like Fenris had struck him there. "We are going to fix this. We need to do a movie night. You will all be there. Except for Tor. You aren't invited because clearly your taste in movies sucks."

"Oh, no! How will I survive not watching another movie with singing princesses?" Tor said, just making it worse for himself.

"They are demon hunters, you uncultured wolf. They kill demons with singing and the power of childhood trauma. It is everything!"

"So? I killed plenty of things with my childhood trauma too," Tor replied.

"Gah! Why do I even bother with you? Inside, everyone, before I have to start the education on the doorstep."

Von turned and swept down the hall. Linnea caught Fenris's sleeve before he could follow.

"It's a kind of music," she told him quietly. "From Korea. Don't let Von kidnap you for a five-hour cinematic crash course before noon."

Fenris only smiled. "If I can handle my father, I can certainly handle the shaman."

"I'm right here, and no one can handle me," Von called from down the hall. "I have wolf-grade ears in this house. They are spelled for it."

"Of course they are," Linnea said with a shake of her head.

The townhouse wasn't so much decorated as it was a full-on dragon's hoard. Linnea had been to Von's apartment above the old Ritual before it had burned down, but this was where his true collection lived.

The hallway was long and dim, the walls covered with tapestries that were old enough that Linnea was too scared to touch them. She caught glimpses into other rooms stacked with iron-bound chests pushed against the walls, the kind monks had once used to ship reliquaries between abbeys, except these had modern keypad locks bolted across their seams.

Glass display cases lined the walls of every room, each holding relics and runestones. A pile of books taller than Linnea sat in one corner. A single book in a climate-controlled case sat on a pedestal at the center of the room with a humidity gauge built into the lid.

"Holy shit, Von," Linnea breathed.