22

“Fuck! Answer me, Daemon. Damn it!”

Devon has been hearing Henry cursing since the time that it is apparent that no one is answering him on the other line. It’s been exactly seven hours since the attack happened and they heard no news from Daemon’s camp.

She is beginning to get anxious. If not for the medicine that Henry gave her, she would not be able to get some sleep.

“Still can’t reach him?”

Henry turned to her and shook his head. Worry is written all over his face that mirrored her current state of mind right now.

“I can’t reach everyone in the group. It’s like they’re all gone. Daemon, if he is alive, should have been here two hours earlier. That man’s very particular with time so him not showing now is a really bad sign for us.”

Devon gulped the acid in her throat and sat on the sofa in a small studio-type apartment in the southern part of the district. It’s been really a struggle to keep the bad thoughts away when all the things pointed to the possible worst case scenario th