The Demonists Read Online Free PDF Page B

the same rhetoric in Dr. Cho’s oh so patient style. “Still no change, but we’re preparing a new round of tests that we hope will . . .”
    Elvis Costello was singing about something to do with angels wanting to wear red shoes as John tried to prepare himself for this visit to his wife. It would be the first time he had seen her since the incident that had nearly killed them, and he needed to be strong.
    For the umpteenth time he thought of his Nana’s words.
    They’ll go after your wife.
    Is that why she won’t wake up? he wondered as they drove. Were his past battles with the forces of darkness somehow responsible?
    “We’re here,” Stephan announced.
    They drove up a heavily wooded road and around a corner, where they came upon a tall wrought-iron gate, the sprawling Cho Institute on the other side. A security guard approached the car with a friendly smile as Stephan brought his window down. The guard’s name tag said he was Max, and he checked a clipboard in his hand to confirm that they were indeed welcome there, before opening the gates to allow them through.
    “Have a good visit,” Max said with a wave as Stephan drove past.
    John sincerely doubted that would be the case.
    Stephan parked not too far from the institute’s entrance and helped John climb out of the car with a minimal amount of pain.
    “You good?” he asked, handing John his cane.
    “Yeah,” John said, looking past the man to the imposing structure before him. He was already anticipating the heavy, antiseptic smells familiar to places like this, and the oppressive atmosphere, as if a powerful storm was brewing, only this time, in this place, it would rain misery.
    It took him a few tries to get going, his body stiff and protesting, but he managed, slowly loosening up as he walked beside Stephan toward a ramp that snaked around the side of the building.
    Just as they reached the front doors, John’s cell phone began to ring. He fished it from his jacket pocket and felt his heart rate quicken as he saw who was calling.
    “Yes, Doctor,” he answered as Stephan watched him with a cautious eye.
    He listened a moment, then started for the doors. “I’m here right now,” he said before breaking the connection and entering the building.
    “What’s up?” Stephan asked.
    “Don’t know exactly,” John said, scanning the lobby for the doctor. “He said to wait for him here.”
    Dr. Franklin Cho appeared from around a marble pillar, followed by three associates in white lab coats and two security guards.
    “Doctor,” John said, moving toward him, hand outstretched.
    Cho shook his hand, and John at once noticed that the grip was cold—damp.
    “Is everything all—”
    “John, I need you to come with me.” Cho let go of his hand immediately and turned away.
    “Is it my wife?” Fogg asked, attempting to keep up with the doctor as his ankle painfully throbbed.
    “It is,” Cho said, without turning.
    They were heading for a heavy security door, with a placard attached that read:
    N O A DMITTANCE W ITHOUT P ROPER A UTHORIZATION .

    “Your wife regained consciousness a little over two hours ago,” Cho said as they slowed down long enough for one of the security guards to open the door using a card key. “As a matter of fact, it was right after we spoke this morning.”
    “She’s awake?” John repeated, following Dr. Cho through the door as the guard held it open. He knew he should be happy but instead felt an odd sense of trepidation that he couldn’t understand.
    “I’m sorry, you’ll need to wait here.” Cho stopped and pointed at Stephan.
    “No, he should come,” John said as Stephan opened his mouth to protest.
    Cho looked at him. “John, I really think—”
    “It’s okay, John, I’ll be fine here,” Stephan interrupted. John fixed him in a powerful stare. “You’re coming.” Then he turned to the doctor and added, “He’s family.”
    Cho wasn’t pleased but didn’t argue. Without a word, he continued on