Chapter 8
Justin came with him for the interview. Kris hadn’t wanted to ask outright, but his demon must’ve picked up the question drifting between them like dandelion wishes; Justin shrugged, made a why not sort of expression, eyed misty pensive New York streets through the big picture windows. “I might as well stop hiding, right? I’ll come along.”
“If you’re sure.”
Justin wriggled into his black leather jacket, black boots, shields of self to help face the world. Today’s shirt had a classic Star Voyager television show logo on it, the one from the sixties. “I’m sure.” And Kris loved him.
Marianne May proved to be shorter than he’d thought, blonde and petite, curls bouncing; she said hi to Justin with unconcealed fascination but no ill will. She had the voice Kris knew from the radio,
