The ’stairwell’ to the fourth floor actually only had two large steps between the floors – Too far apart for humans to traverse without a lot of effort, but easy for a gargoyle to hop up between them. She’d owned this home of hers for twenty years or so actually, and she’d taken security precautions from the start of course, but since gathering her new clan to her here in New York, she’d made the house over into a virtual fortress. With a voice command or by pressing a panic button, one of her clan could, among other equally ruthless security features, seal the fourth and fifth floors as securely as a bank vault and flood the rest of the house with toxic gas. Now that she had a clan of her own kind back, small though it was, she wasn’t about to take any chances with their safety, living in the heart of a city of humans as they were – especially now that there were children involved.

When she emerged onto the fifth floor, the scene she had been expecting wasn’t there. Una was, instead, standing in the light from the wall of windows on the east side of the house, looking out at the city, her wings out and erect, if not expanded to their full span. (This she could do safely because the windows were all one way, allowing those inside to look out while those outside could not look in.)

Demona walked over to her. ”Hello, Una. No book?” She asked, stepping into the light with her friend. She was feeling just… happy. Even with the Xanatos problem weighing on her in addition to her usual burdens, she found she couldn’t help feeling that way. Because of Elisa. It was… confusing, but definitely in a good way.

Una turned to meet her interested gaze. ”I was… concerned.” She replied, her eyes telling Demona easily whom she was concerned about.

”About me, you mean.” She supplied.

”We all were. It’s rare for you, not returning punctually, not contacting us to let us know you’d be delayed. Was worry unwarranted?” She asked in counter.

Demona was speechless a moment, realizing that in fact Una was right. She hadn’t called. After her cellular phone had been left beyond hope of salvage by the electrified javelins the mercenaries had used on her, she’d crushed it in her hand and put it in the trash on her way to Elisa’s car, but she easily could have called from Elisa’s – She hadn’t even thought too. ”…No, of course not.” She admitted softly, turning away from her friend and crossing her arms to herself in thought.