━━ CHAPTER TWENTY / a good deal
episode three, part three.

By the time that Demi had reached home and took the stairs - cautiously - down into the basement, it was a mess. A somewhat organised mess but a mess as Lucy sorted through everything they were allowed to take and everything that would be strictly against the rules. It was like a bombsite that had been meticulously organised. Demi tried not to think about how she would be the one putting them back in place later.

"How's it going?" Demi asked as she leant against one of the wooden beams that kept the basement from collapsing in on itself. Lucy's head shot up, her hand moving to her heart due to the fright that Demi had given her. A small grin appeared on Demi's lips as she watched Lucy kneel back, straightening her back.

"It's alright. Just making sure that I don't pack anything we can't take. Is Lockwood with you?" Lucy asked. Demi shook her head and she grabbed the chair from under the desk where George often did his paperwork. She dropped onto the chair, glad to have the weight off her feet. Her whole body seemed to relax under the lack of pressure.

"He's still at Satchell's. He didn't really need my help," Demi explained. Lucy nodded and then she leant over and grabbed a few more supplies. She dropped them into the bag before separating the others out.

"Did he just want to get you alone?" Lucy asked and Demi nodded her head. But then she clicked on what Lucy actually went and she spluttered out, attempting to tell her no that it wasn't like that but it didn't exactly come out how she wanted to. A soft sigh escaped her lips.

"He just wanted to talk to me about stuff. Not important stuff," Demi dismissed. Lucy sent her a teasing smile before she nodded her head and looked down at the equipment again. She continued to sort through it as Demi stewed, realising that she wanted to be anywhere but here right now.

"How many nights did you sleep in his bed this past week?" Lucy asked curiously as she leant over to grab something that was closer towards Demi. The other girl's eyes narrowed and Lucy sent her a half-smile, "It's just a question." The little shrug was enough for Demi to sigh but respond.

"Every day." Lucy chuckled softly and she grabbed one of the cylinders before she chucked it at Demi. The brunette - who hadn't really been paying attention - quickly snatched it from the air and looked down at her.

"Flare or not?" Lucy asked. The casing was different to the rest and she didn't recognise it. Demi did and she quickly slipped it into her pockets.

"Neither. Something I made. Not sure how it got down here," Demi said quickly. That must have been the prototype that Anthony had stolen a few weeks ago. He had some nerve but she tried not to think about it.

"Do you two cuddle?" The question was out of the blue like basically everything that had been happening to Demi that day and she was paralysed, unsure how to answer. And that was answer enough. Lucy chuckled and then continued to sort, "Snog him already, honestly." Demi scoffed and shook her head.

"It's not like that." That was a complete and utter lie. Demi knew that but she would live in her blissful ignorance over it until she physically couldn't anymore. It was easier to pretend that nothing was going on, it saved her from the heartbreak.

"Just you wait.." Lucy trailed off dangerously and Demi gave her a look which she only returned with a smile.

-

It was getting later and later and Lockwood wasn't back. And George had come back from the Archives with less than ideal information. A cluster case of the ghosts of monks. The vengeful ghosts of satanists that would probably try and kill them. A screaming staircase and a red room. Whatever any of that meant, Demi wasn't really sure but the more George spoke about it, the more she was dreading their trip to Combe Carey Hall.

She knew that there was no other way to settle the fine but it didn't make any of it any easier to deal with. The photocopies of Archive work were spread across the kitchen table as Demi grabbed her beer, taking a sip. George was still trying to grapple with some of the information and sort out what exactly was happening.

But they were all a little stumped on it. And then Lockwood walked in with a bag from Satchell's in his hand and a swagger to his footsteps. The one bag was suspicious. He had been gone for hours. Enough to go to half the shops in London for supplies and yet he was practically empty-handed.

"This job is gonna kill us," George mumbled, yet to notice the appearance of Anthony. Demi hummed softly and dropped the photocopy of the newspaper article onto the table before she looked up at the other boy.

"I'm sorry to hear about that," Lockwood said as he stopped in front of the table and the mass amount of research George had done, "Wow." That was an understatement, "This all on Combe Carey Hall?" He asked. Though that was pretty much obvious. There was no other case that they could take up now. Everyone had cancelled. Combe Carey Hall was literally all they had. It was a stupid question but Demi tried to ignore it. The anxiety settled in her stomach as she took another sip of her beer.

"Yeah, everything Fairfax forgot to mention. It's not just a country house. It used to be a satanic priority of medieval devil worshippers," George explained as he leant forward. His posture showed his annoyance but Lockwood wasn't looking as he leant into the fridge.

"Oh, good. Evil monks." His response was nonchalant.
"A cluster case of evil monks," Demi mumbled as she used the end of her empty beer bottle to push the papers away. The last cluster case they were on hadn't exactly ended nicely. The noises were so loud that Demi had begun to think she was a Listener and the smells and feelings that sat heavy in her stomach were enough to make her want to give up. The thought of going to another cluster case of evil monks didn't sound all that appealing.

"At least we know what we'll be facing. Anyone fancy another beer?" Lockwood asked, holding one out towards the trio. Demi took it without a word and he sent her a smirk before he grabbed another for himself.

"No, actually, we have no idea!" George exclaimed as he stood up. Demi tilted her head down, squeezing her eyes closed at his sudden change in volume. She knew an argument was coming but it didn't make her anxiety any better, "It's killed loads, including some at a party 30 years ago but those deaths weren't blamed on the monks. No, they were blamed on a Screaming Staircase or a Red Room, whatever they are." As George continued his rant, Lockwood opened his beer bottle and nudged Demi to give the opener to her. She took it and opened her own bottle before passing it back. Then she took a very long swig trying not to let the anxiety that had settled in her stomach claw its way back up her throat.

Normal cases didn't bother her. They made her feel a little jumpy sometimes but normal cases were fine. This, this was a death sentence yet they literally had no other choice. Demi hated it. Cases like these were the reason that she left Fittes. Cases like this were why she hated having her Talent sometimes but she knew that she would feel stronger when she got to the other side of it. Despite the anxiety that made her feel paralysed right now.

"Without flares, this job is suicide. Look! We're not the first ones to try, either," Lucy added as she chucked a polaroid across the table and George picked it up, showing it to Lockwood.

"At the start of the Problem, an elite Fites team was sent in. There was only one survivor. And one, Samaran Pandey, is still unaccounted for," George continued as he gestured to one of them in the polaroid. Demi placed her beer down on the table and adjusted so she was looking up at Lockwood. He didn't seem entirely phased.

"We are nowhere near as qualified as they are. It's a death trap," Demi said. Her voice was soft, not bothering to take the tone of annoyance and frustration that the other two shared. She understood why they had to do this but it didn't make it any easier.

"And Fairfax kept all of this from us. He wasn't upfront," Lucy added, her arms still crossed over her chest. The beer bottle rested against her body as she slouched on the chair. She just seemed exhausted with it all and Demi could hardly blame her.

"No, he got himself a good deal. And so did we. This is a job that's finally big enough for our talents. All of our talents," He glanced down at Demi at his last words, giving her a reassuring smile before he looked to the others, "But we're a team, so... if any of you have another option on how to keep this agency afloat then I'm all ears." The silence that permeated through the room was deafening but a voice still played over in Demi's head. Erin. She had offered to help them. If Lockwood just got over himself, it would be fine.

But she knew he never would. So, she kept her mouth shut.

"Right, that's decided then." And there was no more discussion about it. Demi was glad. She took her beer and a fresh pack of chipsticks from the cupboard and went upstairs. She wasn't entirely sure what she was going to do and when she reached the landing just before hers, she paused. Her head was spinning and she was so tired. She ran her fingers through her hair before she turned back around. With a few quick steps, she dropped the chipsticks on the hallway table (too tired to go back to the kitchen) before she headed back up and into the bathroom.

A bath was in order so she kicked the door closed with her foot and flicked the light on. Then she twisted the hot taps on and went searching for the bath bubble solution as she sipped on her beer. In a few seconds, she managed to find the lavender bath solution and had to climb on the counter to get it. She dropped onto the floor (ignoring the shooting pain in her back) and placed her beer bottle on the edge of the bathtub. She then poured some of the bath bubbles in before leaving it to run as she headed up to her bedroom to get some clean clothes.

She was back down before the bath was filled and she switched the cold tap on to make sure it was at a tolerable temperature. And then, once she was sure it was fine, she kicked the door shut again, locked it and stripped off.

When she checked her bruises in the mirror, they seemed to be healing up quite nicely but they were still a nasty purple-brown colour. Her entire back had changed colour from the force of Annabel's throw but she was lucky that it hadn't been worse. She could have been ghost-touched and paralysed. But it was fine now so Demi forced her gaze off the bruises and walked over to the bath.

It took a minute to adjust to the temperature but she eventually sank beneath the water and the tension released from her body. She grabbed the beer she had left on the side of the tub and took a long sip before she sunk down.

The bubbles were mainly on the other side of the tub so when she slipped her face under the water, it didn't bother her. And she stayed there for a few seconds, enjoying the solitude before she lifted her head back up. She brushed her fingers along her face and back into her hair before she slipped back down.

Her ears were under the water which meant that all the sound and clatters from the house were dulled. It was peaceful, serene. A small smile appeared on her lips as she closed her eyes. She loved Portland Row more than she would ever admit and the little moments like this were the best. There was no fear of taking too long, no worry or anxiety about just relaxing. There were no expectations for her and it made her feel content.

Even with the rowing, arguments and raised voices that seemed to consume their conversations as of late, it was still home. They all cared for each other. George only wanted the best for all of them. He was worried and that's why he got annoyed and she had never known someone to do that. Even in her youth, nobody was that worried. Because she was Demi Campbell. Demi the fighter. Demi the brave. Demi the strong. Demi who had been able to see glimpses of death her entire life.

Nobody was ever so concerned for her life that they got annoyed at her for being reckless. In fact, it was the opposite. It was encouraged. Recklessness got jobs done. Recklessness got her higher in the ranks. Recklessness got her paid.

Although that was still somewhat the case, it was more planned now. Planned recklessness and a sense of safety because Demi wasn't the one being reckless. It was Lockwood and she knew that he had better judgement than she ever would.

Lockwood & Co was her home and she knew that they were about to walk into a death trap but they would make it out alive. They always did.

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