It’s a majestic piece of architecture, built out of sandstone; it looks as if it’s been here for hundreds of years. ‘Nice place,’ I comment. ‘Recruitment doesn’t start until tomorrow so you can stay here. It’ll be safe.’ ‘And where is here, exactly?’ ‘My apartment,’ Montserrat answers shortly. O’Shea clambers out and whistles. ‘I like a man with style.’ ‘If you want to stay alive,’ Montserrat tells the daemon, ‘then you’ll stay here and out of sight.’ O’Shea purses his lips. ‘Do you have satellite TV?’ Montserrat looks at him. ‘Okay, okay. I’ll stay here and hide away. It’s nice of you to be so concerned for my safety.’ I smile involuntarily and Montserrat glares at me. ‘You can stay here tonight too.’ ‘Great. Thanks,’ I mutter. There’s no doorman at the front but the security is still impressive. Montserrat enters by pressing his thumb to an electronic sensor.
