Exton

In the middle of the meal (which is great!), there's a small commotion. There's some asshole at the door demanding entrance and Jeb is doing his best impression of a brick wall. I cock an ear to listen.

"You can't keep me out. This is a public place!"

"Yeah, but it's a private party, and I don't see an invitation."

"I need no invitation! I go where and as God wills it!"

"Then have God get you an invitation, 'cause without it, you're not getting' in." Jeb is a patient guy, but I can tell from his voice that the asswipe is getting on his nerves.

"I demand that you let me in! If you don't, I'll call the police."

Jeb smiles - wolfishly, you might say. "Good. You do that. Then they can explain to you that your legal rights aren't being violated and that you're breaking the law. Wait, I have a better idea. How about I call them for you?" Suddenly there's a cell phone in Jeb's big hand and a finger is poised to start punching buttons.

"You dare not."

Jeb's grin grows wider. "Oh, now you're hurting my feelings." I can hear, very faintly, the boop-beeps of the buttons being pushed, and the tinny ring at the other end.

"Very well," the asshole says with a petulant sigh. Then his voice rises to a shout. "ROWAN! You have not heard the last of me, demon-worshipper! I will drive you and your kind from Exton if it is my last act on earth!"


After the asshole makes his departure, I seek out the redheaded witch. "Rowan, who the hell was that?"