“Did you see something?” Nicolae asks.
She nods. “Two blocks back. Crouching behind that red utility vehicle.” It shifts out of sight when Nicolae turns, as if sensing his appraisal. The muscles in his arm tense in her palm. “Should we double back?”
“No,” Roseline says, leaping over the slush plugged gutter. “I don’t think they will follow us inside.”
“Could it be Fane? Maybe he’s watching us?”
She inhales deeply. Fane’s scent leads in the opposite direction. “No. He is already inside.”
Fear begins to tingle in her core. What if they are too late? Maybe she should check around back for his…Roseline cannot bring herself to think the word body.
They sneak past the alley that leads to the rear of Torrent . She sucks in a breath as she passes. Foul city air burns her throat. Stale beer, body odor and feces inundate her senses, but Fane’s scent is not among them.
She breathes a sigh of relief as they scurry toward the edge of the building. Her hand snakes out to brace Nicolae as she comes to a grinding halt. Her muscles coil, buffeting his momentum before easing him back.
“Thanks,” he grunts, rubbing his abdomen. He is bound to have a bruise by morning.
Fane’s scent is strong now. He passed by here less than half an hour ago, but his scent is not alone. There is something more, something animalistic.
“Davros,” she whispers, her voice snatched away by the wind. Her fingers curl around the brick face, tearing off small chunks of mortar as she latches onto the new scent. Her toes curl with revulsion. Vladimir’s lackey is here, searching for her.
Fane does not stand a chance in a fight against Davros, but then again, he might not want to see the light of dawn after she shoved his heart through a meat grinder. “Suicidal jerk,” she hisses.
Nicolae peers over her shoulder at the empty road. He sees nothing out of place. “Something I should know about?”
Roseline remains silent, grinding her teeth as she surveys the space. Although the road appears to be deserted, she is not fooled. The entrance to Torrent is never left unprotected.
A neon sign flashes at the end of the street, illuminating a rusted metal door. To a passerby, it would look unassuming, but its presence raises the hair on the back of Roseline’s neck.
“That’s Torrent ?”
Roseline nods and pulls him back, shielding him from sight. She drops her voice to a whisper. “You need to listen to me carefully, Nicolae. Do not underestimate this place. It is a hangout for the deadliest of immortals. Humans only enter for one of two reasons: either as blood-slaves or entertainment. Trust me, you don’t want to be either.”
The grim tone in her voice leaves no room for doubt. Nor does the fear lurking within her aqua eyes.
“Fane’s not just here for blood, is he?” Nicolae asks.
“No. He’s here for something else entirely.”
A ball of nausea festers in Roseline’s stomach. Should they enter through the front door or sneak in through the rear entrance? The back is sure to be less protected, but it empties directly into a highly populated room. She decides on the front door, which will give her a greater vantage point.
Roseline glances over at Nicolae. Guilt writhes in the pit of her stomach. Nicolae might be brave and proven himself to be an excellent swordsman, but he has no clue what he is about to walk into.
“It was a mistake to bring you here,” she whispers. “You should go back.”
Nicolae’s suspicion takes root. “I thought you needed me.”
Roseline stares past him, toward the rusted door. “What lies beyond that entrance isn’t a game, Nicolae. Every one of those immortals will gladly rip you apart just for the fun of it. This
She nods. “Two blocks back. Crouching behind that red utility vehicle.” It shifts out of sight when Nicolae turns, as if sensing his appraisal. The muscles in his arm tense in her palm. “Should we double back?”
“No,” Roseline says, leaping over the slush plugged gutter. “I don’t think they will follow us inside.”
“Could it be Fane? Maybe he’s watching us?”
She inhales deeply. Fane’s scent leads in the opposite direction. “No. He is already inside.”
Fear begins to tingle in her core. What if they are too late? Maybe she should check around back for his…Roseline cannot bring herself to think the word body.
They sneak past the alley that leads to the rear of Torrent . She sucks in a breath as she passes. Foul city air burns her throat. Stale beer, body odor and feces inundate her senses, but Fane’s scent is not among them.
She breathes a sigh of relief as they scurry toward the edge of the building. Her hand snakes out to brace Nicolae as she comes to a grinding halt. Her muscles coil, buffeting his momentum before easing him back.
“Thanks,” he grunts, rubbing his abdomen. He is bound to have a bruise by morning.
Fane’s scent is strong now. He passed by here less than half an hour ago, but his scent is not alone. There is something more, something animalistic.
“Davros,” she whispers, her voice snatched away by the wind. Her fingers curl around the brick face, tearing off small chunks of mortar as she latches onto the new scent. Her toes curl with revulsion. Vladimir’s lackey is here, searching for her.
Fane does not stand a chance in a fight against Davros, but then again, he might not want to see the light of dawn after she shoved his heart through a meat grinder. “Suicidal jerk,” she hisses.
Nicolae peers over her shoulder at the empty road. He sees nothing out of place. “Something I should know about?”
Roseline remains silent, grinding her teeth as she surveys the space. Although the road appears to be deserted, she is not fooled. The entrance to Torrent is never left unprotected.
A neon sign flashes at the end of the street, illuminating a rusted metal door. To a passerby, it would look unassuming, but its presence raises the hair on the back of Roseline’s neck.
“That’s Torrent ?”
Roseline nods and pulls him back, shielding him from sight. She drops her voice to a whisper. “You need to listen to me carefully, Nicolae. Do not underestimate this place. It is a hangout for the deadliest of immortals. Humans only enter for one of two reasons: either as blood-slaves or entertainment. Trust me, you don’t want to be either.”
The grim tone in her voice leaves no room for doubt. Nor does the fear lurking within her aqua eyes.
“Fane’s not just here for blood, is he?” Nicolae asks.
“No. He’s here for something else entirely.”
A ball of nausea festers in Roseline’s stomach. Should they enter through the front door or sneak in through the rear entrance? The back is sure to be less protected, but it empties directly into a highly populated room. She decides on the front door, which will give her a greater vantage point.
Roseline glances over at Nicolae. Guilt writhes in the pit of her stomach. Nicolae might be brave and proven himself to be an excellent swordsman, but he has no clue what he is about to walk into.
“It was a mistake to bring you here,” she whispers. “You should go back.”
Nicolae’s suspicion takes root. “I thought you needed me.”
Roseline stares past him, toward the rusted door. “What lies beyond that entrance isn’t a game, Nicolae. Every one of those immortals will gladly rip you apart just for the fun of it. This
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