Free The Demon Hunter by Kevin Emerson Page B

somewhere else casually.
    â€œHey, guys,” Emalie said, smiling. Then she saw their worried faces. “What?”
    â€œLythia is in town,” Dean said. “Oliver saw her.”
    Oliver recounted the story again.
    â€œGreat,” Emalie grumbled. “Dean,” she said carefully, “have you—um—”
    â€œNo,” Dean groaned, “nothing!” He glanced from Emalie to Oliver. “Stop looking at me like that! I had no idea she was here, I swear.”
    â€œOkay,” Oliver said, but inside, his trust of Dean crumbled with each thought. Lythia could be telling him to say that. Oliver rubbed at his jaw where Dean had broken it while under Lythia’s command. This was not good.
    â€œDo you think there’s a way to block her orders?” Emalie wondered aloud. “You know, make it so Dean can resist her?”
    â€œI don’t know,” said Oliver. “Maybe. I could check the library.”
    â€œDésirée might know,” Emalie added.
    â€œMmm,” Oliver murmured and frowned. The last time he’d seen Dead Désirée she had given him clues for how to talk to Selene, except she’d done it in such a way that Oliver hadn’t understood what she’d meant until it was almost too late. Would it have been so hard for Désirée to say: Oliver, go talk to Selene, the oracle that gave your prophecy, and oh, by the way, she’s hiding in fireflies ?
    But with Désirée it was never that simple. And visits to her shop were always uncomfortable. Oliver couldn’t help wanting to avoid it.
    And yet, now there were three reasons to go see her: Dean, Oliver’s questions, and—Oliver felt in his pocket, his fingers touching the smooth glass of the pendant on Bane’s necklace. He pulled it out. “I could ask her about this, too.”
    â€œNo luck figuring out what it is?” asked Dean.
    â€œNo,” said Oliver. “I looked in a Skrit dictionary at school and did a search online. But it didn’t show up.” The more time Bane was mysteriously gone, the more Oliver was curious as to whether the necklace held a key to what he was up to. It was probably time to tell his parents about this, too.
    â€œHow are you feeling?” Dean asked Emalie.
    â€œAh, I’m all right.” She yawned. “Just a little tired. It’s a lot harder being nocturnal now that school’s started.” Oliver knew that Dean had been referring to the way she’d passed out the other night, but Emalie didn’t bite. “I have a new math teacher, and I don’t know if it’s going to be a guaranteed nap this year like it used to be. But whatever, I’ll make it work.”
    She started down the stairs to the street. “Hey, I heard there was another jaguar attack.”
    â€œYeah,” said Oliver.
    â€œDo you think it’s Bane?” Emalie asked carefully.
    â€œI don’t know.”
    You’re worried about him, aren’t you?
    Oliver’s eyes snapped to Emalie. She’d spoken in his head, and now gave him an embarrassed smile. Oliver remembered back to Italy: Emalie had said that only the little television charm could invite her into his head—but he’d been suspicious that she could get in whenever she wanted.
    Sorry, Emalie said guiltily.
    â€œRight,” Oliver said aloud, his voice suddenly hoarse.
    â€œWhat?” Dean asked, his gaze flashing between them.
    â€œNothing,” Emalie replied.
    â€œUgh.” Dean rolled his eyes.
    The roar of the bus reached their ears, but instead of stepping up beside the bus stop shelter, the three shrank back into the shadows. The bus squealed to the stop and let off passengers. Just as it was lurching away from the curb, Oliver and Dean each hooked an arm with Emalie.
    â€œReady?” Oliver asked. They rushed forward and leaped, soaring up and landing atop the departing bus. They sat down in a row,