He spoke the magical ward slowly and clearly --“You have the wrong number.”-- then hung up. KuanYin alone knew what those nasty things wanted. The telephone was cracked across the middle. The digital face of the answering machine was warped, smoky black. The cord looked like a long curly-fry left in the pan too long.
The Girl would blame him for this unless he could find a new telephone. He left the apartment only to find himself walking down a pitch-black corridor instead of a series of stairs down to the street. That was bad karma for you. Beeps could send you all sorts of places. Get too many and you were at their beck and call. Lucky it was him, not the Girl.
Not unduly concerned, and possessed of excellent night vision, RiYue wandered down several passages before he heard voices yelling at each other. He allowed himself a toothy grin. If they were gremlins, they were in for a surprise.
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