But his instincts told him otherwise. And he had learned from twenty-five nears of experience that his instincts were seldom wrong.
The demon gave Andrew Wren the better part of an hour with the foundation’s financial records, waiting patiently, allowing the reporter enough time to familiarise himself with the overall record of donations to Fresh Start and Pass/Go, then checked to make certain the hallway was empty and slipped into the room behind him. Wren never heard the demon approach, his back to the door, his head lowered to the open books as he ran his finger across the notations. The demon stood looking at him for a moment, thinking how easy it would be to kill him, feeling the familiar hunger begin to build.
But now was not the time and Wren had not been lured to Seattle to satisfy the demon’s hunger. There were plenty of others for that.
The demon moved up behind Andrew Wren and placed its fingers on the back of the man’s exposed neck. Wren did not move, did not turn, did not feel anything as the dark magic entered him. His eyes locked on the pages before him, and his mind froze. The demon probed his thoughts, drew his attention, and then whispered the words that were needed to manipulate him.
I won’t find what I’m looking for here. Simon Lawrence is much too clever for that. He wouldn’t he stupid enough to let me look at these books if he thought they were incriminating. I have to be patient. I have to wait for my source to contact me.
The demon spoke in Andrew Wren’s voice, in Andrew Wren’s mind, in Andrew Wren’s thoughts, ,and it would seem to the reporter as if the words were his own – He would do as the demon wanted without ever realising it; he would be the demon’s tool. He would think that the ideas the demon gave him were his own and that the conclusions the demon reached far him were his. It was easy enough to arrange. Andrew Wren was an investigative reporter, and investigative reporters believed that everyone was covering up something. Why should Simon Lawrence be different?
Andrew Wren hesitated a moment as the demons words took root, and then he closed the book before him and began to stack it with the others.
The demon smiled in satisfaction. It wouldn’t be long now until everything was in place. Another two days was all it would take. John Ross would be turned. A Knight of the Word would become a servant of the Void. It would happen so swiftly that it would be over before Ross even realized what was taking place. Even afterward, he would not know what had been done to him. But the demon would know, and that would be enough. A single step was all that was required to change John Ross’s life, a step away from the light and into the dark. Andrew Wren would help make that happen.
The demon lifted its fingers from Andrew Wren’s neck, slipped back out the door, and was gone.
CHAPTER 8
In the aftermath of San Sobel. John Ross decided to return to the Fairy Glen and the Lady.
1t took him a long time to reach his decision to do so. He was paralyzed for weeks following the massacre, consumed with despair and guilt, replaying the events over and over in his mind in an effort to make sense of them. Even after he had reached his conclusion that the demon had subverted a member of the police rescue squad, he could not lay the matter to rest. To begin with, he could never know for certain if his conclusion was correct. There would always be some small doubt that he still didn’t have it right and might have done something else to prevent what had happened- Besides, wasn’t he just looking for a way to shift the blame from himself? Wasn’t that what is all came down to? Whatever the answer, the fact remained that he had been responsible for preventing the slaughter of those children. and he had failed.
So, alter a lengthy deliberation on the matter, he decided he could no longer serve as a Knight of the Word.