He only seemed to succeed in pushing some of the more horrific image and disorienting thoughts out, though. The usual clarity refused to come. God had never felt so far away as He did at that moment.
He supposed that wasn’t such a wonder. He’d made a deal with the devil—there was really no other way to look at the agreement he’d let the GDBCG talk him into. They’d wanted him to spy on the O’Connell wolf clan and instead of backing up and telling Volos and Dyball that he was a researcher, a doctor, darn it, and he didn’t participate in anything so shady, he’d let himself get charmed by stories of magic and interest. Spying was not the same as researching, no matter how close those two things might seem to be.