Mark of the Demon

You’re pretty smart for a Fed.” “I missed a bunch of questions on the entrance exam on purpose so that I could get into the agency,

Ryan stared at me as I pulled my phone out to see who was calling at this late hour. “You have the Fraggle Rock theme song as your ring tone,” he said, with a bemused look on his face. “You are so weird.

Greg was a supernice guy and a good tenant.” “I met him only once, but he seemed pretty cool,” I said. “Of course, the neighbor across the street was convinced he was up to no good.” “Oh, my God, that racist bitch? I swear, I wanted to rent the place out to a black Jewish gay couple just to piss her off, but then I figured it wouldn’t be fair to the black Jewish gay couple.

That was also why I loved being a summoner—there were rules when dealing with demons. Dealing with humans was never simple or straightforward.

Well, be thankful that you’re not working tonight. Apparently the night watchman at the wastewater plant found a body.” I leaned against his car. “Unless the guy was killed with a bad check, I doubt I’ll be involved.