CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
In the cold light of Monday morning, last night’s conversation with Sam feels like a dream, wispy and unreal. Like memories from childhood where you can recall feelings and impressions, but no exact words or deeds. Sam is hunting the demon who killed Annie Seramoph and probably kidn*pped two other assistants. Four things stay with me.
Annie is dead.
Demons are real.
Demon hunters are a thing—and apparently Sam is one.
A demon has killed at least one of the assistants from my work, and I’m expected to go into the office today.
Well, I don’t have to. I can stay home. Call in sick. What will they do? Fire me? That might not be a bad result, all things considered. It will get me out of Bryce’s sights and those of the demon. If the break-in is connected to the missing w
