They weren’t on the track of any demons, but it was clear from Ellis Kendell’s body language that the situation was urgent. He turned to Ryan as they sped along. ‘Got a possible containment situation come up – but it can only be done now. And we'll need your help with it.’ Minutes later they pulled up in front of a courthouse and Ellis led the way up the steps and through its bustling corridors. There was a heavy press presence, and as they pushed through and into the public gallery of one of the courtrooms, Ryan caught his first sight of who was standing in the dock: Tracy Fulton. Ashen faced, drawn, Ryan hadn’t seen her since that day at the Mocha Bocha. A judge was looking at her with rueful contemplation, but she seemed strangely detached from the proceedings around her, her gaze drifting. As they took seats at the back of the gallery, Ellis leant across to Ryan. ‘If her pet fallen angel, Berith, is going to jump ship, we reckon the high-tide time for it will be now – when or just after sentence is passed.’ Ellis nodded Tracy’s direction.
