Dark Tomorrow (Bo Blackman Book 6) Read Free

and I’m not leaving. Not for anyone.
    There’s a loud knock on the door and Nicholl’s voice drifts through. ‘You fallen in, Foxworthy?’
    ‘You should go.’
    I nod and reach into my pocket, pulling out a burner phone. ‘Find an address for the daemon,’ I urge. ‘You can contact me with this.’
    His fingers brush against mine as he takes it. ‘Okay,’ he says simply and I know from the way he looks at me that he will do his very best. It’s all I can ask for. I force a smile and step back, letting him go. One down.
    ***
    The Agathos Court seems much less busy than the police station. It’s hardly surprising; I think all but the most urgent of cases have been postponed, given the events of this week. All the same, I’m glad that Harry is actually doing some work for a change. His office building has some stringent anti-vampire security in place and, while I can easily circumnavigate it, I’ve already threatened the building’s owner once before. I have enough people gunning for me; there’s no need to add to the tally unnecessarily.
    I stride in through the plate-glass front doors, restored and reinforced since the court was attacked last year. Fortunately, the personnel hasn’t changed. The frowning face of the woman at the front desk is one that I recognise. There’s only one person in front of her, an irate Agathos daemon who is blithely unconcerned about what’s been going on in the city and who is only worried about his own predicament.
    ‘I demand that my trial goes ahead today!’ he shrieks. ‘I’ve been waiting six months! You can’t expect me to wait longer just because a bunch of guzzlers have corked it. It’s completely unreasonable!’ With each word, his voice gets higher and higher. I wince. Extra reinforcement or not, if he manages much more of this then all that pretty new glass will be shattered again.
    Meg, the stern receptionist with eyebrows that have a life of their own and a personality as charming as a python’s, glares at him icily. ‘Do you see my badge?’ she enquires. ‘Are you literate? What does it say?’
    ‘I don’t give a rat’s arse what it says! I…’
    She reaches over and slaps him round the face with considerable force. I’m impressed. The daemon is stunned into silence. ‘I am a receptionist.’ She points again. ‘See? Re-cep-tion-ist.’ She enunciates each syllable as if the daemon in front of her is stupid. Which he probably is. ‘I am not a lawyer. I am not a judge, although you can bet your soul that I’m judging you right now and finding you wanting. I cannot affect court dates. I cannot run trials.’ She leans across her desk again and the hapless daemon shrinks backwards. ‘Now get the hell out of here before I decide to stop being so nice.’
    He doesn’t need telling twice. Spinning round and almost colliding with me, he hurtles off, skidding on the floor before slamming open the door so that it judders. He’s not completely cowed, however; he glances over his shoulder and throws Meg such a look of hatred that lesser mortals would flinch from. Not her. She reaches calmly under the desk as if she’s about to draw out a weapon. The daemon drops his gaze and departs abruptly.
    I clap. Meg’s eyes snap to me. ‘What do you want?’
    ‘What? Are you going to be mean to me too? I saved your life, Margaret.’
    The expression on her face is one that a sullen teenager would be proud of. ‘I don’t care.’
    My eyebrows fly up. ‘You don’t care that you’re alive?’
    ‘Don’t be ridiculous. I don’t care that you saved me. I’m not going to bend the rules just because once upon a time you hauled me out of a burning building.’
    I stand my ground. ‘ This burning building.’
    She shrugs. ‘You can’t corrupt me. I’m sorry all your pointy-fanged friends are dead.’ She doesn’t look sorry at all and I like that she’s not changing her tune. She’s a woman of conviction, if nothing else. ‘But there’s not a damn