Andrew Lawrence dream-struggled under the weight crushing his chest. He woke to more than physical pressure. The air reeked of a sulfurous odor, and sweat poured from his forehead into his ears. “’Bout time you rose to your responsibility,” growled the demon, snout to nose. “I don’t have time for nightmares,” cried Andrew. “I begin court at ten a.m and need my sleep. So whatever undigested morsel you crawled from, return and let me be.” “I wish I could, but rules are rules, Andrew. You summoned me.” The demon squirmed on his chest. A long, gray tongue groomed arched eyebrows.
Deferred Sentence
