“A demon? Fuck. Are you sure?”
“No, I’m not sure – that’s why I said maybe. It doesn’t matter – I don’t see it now.”
Bracing her back against the wall and feet against the street, she slowly pushed herself up till she was standing. As the young executive’s gaze dropped down off the roof and back over the salt-pillars, she let out a soft sigh.
“Do we know who was salted?”
Still looking up at the roof tops, the man answered “No, not yet. I’m hoping to get some black mages from the Ministry to come down and take a look.”
“Have you spoken with Shamira yet?”
The man turned to look at the gynoid. “No, not yet.”
“This isn’t like her. She’s normally the first one of us here.”
The other executive watched the young executive watch the stationary salt-pillars.
“Why don’t you take off. There’s nothing else to do here until the boys from the Ministry arrive. Nothing here’s going to be moving and I’m sure I can call over a couple of citizens to help keep an eye on things. By looking at you, you and Wyn had quite a night planned, didn’t you?”
“If Shamira contacts me, I’ll contact you.”
The young executive started to open her mouth again.
“Gunnbjörg,” he said as he placed a hand on her shoulder and stared deep into her glass eyes, “go home, drink some more poison, and fuck that sexy assed man already. Or else I might have to do it for you.”