Damian’s phone vibrated. He turned and winced. Sleeping on the couch had not been kind to him; his right arm had been trapped underneath him and was now a lump of pins and needles. His left shoulder, on the other hand, was now sore from having nothing to rest against. Damian would have to consider buying an inflatable mattress if his guest were to remain much longer. Damian reached out and groped for his phone. He grabbed it, unplugged it from the charger, checked the caller id, and answered.
“Bart-o? Buddy, listen, we have got to stop having these chats after midnight. It’s—”
“Shut up, Damian,” the Hell Knight interrupted. “We don’t have time. There’s a problem over on Barberry and 9th.”
Damian processed what the Hell Knight had just said. Barberry and 9th. Just on the outskirts. A lot
