Samuel Cornick személy

Reluctantly, I pulled out my necklace and showed it to them.
Samuel frowned. The little figure was stylized; I suppose he couldn’t tell what it was at first.
“A dog?” asked Zee, staring at my necklace.
“A lamb,” I said defensively, tucking it safely back under my shirt. “Because one of Christ’s names is ‘The Lamb of God.’ ”
Samuel’s shoulders shook slightly. “I can see it now, Mercy holding a roomful of vampires at bay with her glowing silver sheep.”
I gave his shoulder a hard push, aware of the heat climbing up my cheeks, but it didn’t help. He sang in a soft taunting voice, “Mercy had a little lamb . . .”

“You know,” said Samuel reflectively, “you just proved your point better by arguing against it than you did arguing for it. I wonder if that says anything about how your mind works.”
“Or yours,” said Bran, smiling despite himself. “I’m going out to check on Charles.”
“Good,” said Samuel. “Do you want me to come back?”
“No. Are you staying with Adam or Mercy?”
“I am your son,” he said smugly despite the underlying worry in his tone. “At Mercy’s, of course.”
Bran smiled as he hung up the phone.