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I wondered if he was screwing Vicki. He wore a choice Armani suit, an impeccably business-like haircut (not an aggressive crewcut but not too casually...long either), and looked me straight in the eye. I could tell he was measuring me up, figuring me out a little. Then he showed me to one of the plush chairs in front of his desk."So you have the report on the Richardson account ready?" he asked."Yes, sir," I said, opening up my briefcase and handing him the sixty-three pages of analysis I had. And asked by Mr Herbert himself, fuck yeah. No more breaking heads down at the Dog and Duck every Saturday night. He was on the move. He was doing real jobs for the organisation now.He hadn't expected anything as weird as this, though. He walked around the circular railing. The demon, or at least the thing that looked like a demon, sat cross-legged at the centre of the circle within the cage. They were definitely wings folded up behind her back--black and leathery like a bat's. He saw the point. More

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