He stood back, one arm folded across his chest as Emilie procured the alcohol for their trip upstairs. They were going to have to kick someone out of a room to get this done; it wouldn't look right in the hall. They needed something simple but offensive. Something that would have them running to the garage for paint to cover it up.

It was just a pity that they didn't have any. Not anymore.

Ciaran smirked as the boy faltered and backed down, slinking off down the stairs towards his friends. He could see how people might find someone like Emilie intimidating, but surely that dress killed off any real threat she could throw out. That guy...had to be a wuss.

"Thanks," he said, untwisting the cap and taking a swig of his beer. Ciaran followed Emilie up the stairs to the landing. "We should start with the master."