The demon was killing time in the UK, driving the twisting and hilly roads of Greater London, east of the river, when he decided that hell, 3 in the morning was probably just as good a time as any to check up on his great-granddaughter. Knowing the family lack of need for a seven-hour sleep, he figured that Henn would be awake. He headed that direction in his cherry red Koenigsegg SSC, and drove into the drive at the back of the Turner House.
Hopping out of the car and walking around to the front door, he brushed his knuckles against it, but he called out mentally to Henriette, Knock knock, family's at the door. He smiled and let out a huff of a chuckle and leaned against the doorframe. He was dressed in oddly casual clothes for him - not much more than a long-sleeved t-shirt and a pair of black jeans, with a pair of black cowboy boots, his hair braided at the crown and pulled back into a ponytail.