Chapter 3
My eyes fly open. Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no. This? On top of everything else? Whatever this is, I’m getting rid of it. I push against the restroom door and stand firm, hands on hips.
“Go away!” I shout the words at the ceiling, although, really, the voice is all in my head.
Is that any way to greet an old friend?
“You are not a friend. You’re a demon, or my imagination, or something I don’t care to deal with at the moment.”
My dear, I’m here to help.
“Really? I could’ve used some help an hour ago.”
An hour ago, this mall was crawling with Orson’s spies.
“And now they’ve suddenly vanished?”
I believe you had something to do with that.
“Really?” I think of the supernatural rush when I opened the mall doors, a cold so sharp I felt it through my jeans. “All his spies left?”
W
