“It certainly is.” Harold watched Lucy for a moment. She seemed happy, dancing along the lines of golems pulling out spirits and talking to them as if they were dolls at a tea party. Several clung to her, attracted by whatever made her what she was but none were actually absorbed like the demon she'd pulled out of Amanda and Julie.He felt a lump in his oesophagus as he thought about demons living inside his beloved daughter. Or it could just be his supper.
“Are there any more like her?” Sam was gazing at Lucy as well. “Dill and I could do with an employee with an ability like hers.”
Harold studied the twin-spirit zombie. Sam's mouth was open in a part-smile, though whether it was intentional or a product of decaying muscle tissue Harold couldn't be sure. At least he wasn't drooling. Did zombies drool? They did in all the films but it seemed unlikely, given the nature of corrupted flesh.
“All done, Daddy.” Lucy skipped up to him, holding a spirit in her hand like an old rag doll.
“Good girl.” Harold hoisted her up and raised his eyebrows at Gillian, who nodded. “Just a few more before we can go home again.”
“Three more rooms, actually.” Sam led them back into the hallway.
Lucy yawned and rested her head on Harold's shoulder.