Demons could have been under the dining room table and Ransom still couldn't have been coaxed out into the storm. He'd rather battle it out inside than face the lightning and thunder. He knew how unlikely it was to be struck by lightning more than once, but he couldn't have brought himself to push his luck if he tried. Thunderstorms were the one thing that always got the better of him... but by the look Valen was giving him, Ransom knew to be on his guard inside as well. Be it his werewolf senses or human senses, Ransom knew dinner was going to be hell.
He took a seat, hand finding Charlotte's beneath the table. He'd never had trouble talking to her mother, but found himself short on words with Valen there to join them. "Charlotte's told me you work for the police department," he said, picking something that seemed harmless and completely unrelated to himself. "How is it handling the demon crisis?"