"Smooth by the way," Emilie laughed, looking snide. She had to laugh, otherwise she'd be just as ridiculous as her crazy-ass parents. Though it was probably too late for her on the crazy front.

"I thought you were dead for a minute there," she mused, slipping by him to grab something warm from the closet. Witch or not, there was still about three feet of snow outside. "Guess Mom made him get rid of his gun."

She slipped on a thick black hoodie with a complicated set of clasps on the front and stepped into some combat-looking boots that zipped themselves.

"They're probably using the upstairs dining room, but if we can slip past it, we can just walk right out the front door," Emilie shrugged. It sounded simple, but nothing in the Devlin house ever was.