He knew it’d be tricky. Demons were notoriously difficult to capture on film. Magical interference. Fuzziness. A lot of pictures of Justin, unless he was deliberately putting on the most human of his faces, came out as very attractive blurs of color.
Justin set down garlic. “I didn’t realize you were that concerned about it.”
“I’m not.”
“You are. I can hear it. Sorry, I meant to tell you, but we hadn’t quite worked it out yet. It’s promising, though.”
“What is?”
“Kelly and James and Stephanie have been working on interdimensional photographic developing methods,” Justin said, and Kris’s heart skipped a beat, because Justin’s engineering-genius family—stepmother, oldest younger sibling, and said sibling’s fiancée—could do just about anything they aimed that intimidating intelligence toward. They collectively already held patents on the experimental dimensional gateway technology, and the levitating high-speed rail transport system.