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The sign was a giant piece of white wood with the name written in bold blue font, stamped with a small leviathan cross in the corner. The actual building looked like a mini apartment building in major need of some siding.
A large dictation of the Sigil of Baphomet was painted on the side in red with the same memento mori scrawled across it. Dark curtains prohibited anyone from seeing a peep inside.
There was no sign of the acolytes, so I was assumin they hadn’t arrived yet. Grimm cut the bike’s engine in a parking spot beside a decent lookin sedan. A second later, Cobra’s Charger pulled up beside us.
Katya smiled and waved at me from the passenger seat and I returned the gesture, lookin away when I heard a door open.
A man with salt n pepper hair stepped out adjustin his belt buckle, and pecked a familiar lookin redhead on the cheek. A huge smile spread across her face when she saw us, gesturing for us to come in.
When she turned back around, I saw the inverted cross on her left shoulder where her silken robe had slipped down.
“Grimm, where exactly are we?” I asked, hissin slightly as he lifted me off his bike and my body reminded me it was in dire need of some real rehabilitatin. Thankfully, he had the hindsight to keep a tight grip on me, because I felt like I was standin in quick sand.
“It’s a place fine upstanding men like myself sometimes come to receive pleasure, and then we go on our way,” Cobra answered, climbin out of his car. “You’re lookin sore, sis,” he smirked, laughing when I flipped him off.
“You brought us to a whore house?” Katya asked, joining the conversation.
“Kat, they’re called brothels now,” Blue laughed, sidling up to Cobra.
I quirked a brow at him, knowin full well he’d just been cozy with Katya the day prior.
She seemed unbothered by it, goin as far as smiling at the two of em together. Parker curiously studied Lucy’s, keepin whatever he was thinkin to himself.
Cobra instantly lost his playful appeal.
Was it only obvious to me he was trying to make Kat jealous? With a soft sigh, I turned back to Grimm, who was undoing the bag from his bike.
“Why are we at a brothel?”
“Because it’s where Rome told us to be, where our lead is, so we can go end this, get home and start working on the next generation.” He looped the bag of his shoulder and then headed for the building, leavin me to follow.
What the did he mean? I hoped to high hell it wasn’t a damn baby.
“Damn cabrona, I would love to find a man who bossed me like that. I’ve yet to meet one with balls bigger than mine.” Kat looped her arm in mine and urged me forward, payin no mind to the look on Cobra’s face.
I had to swallow a retort, refusin to get in between whatever they had goin on. I heard an old Creed song blastin through a stereo system as we drew closer.
Grimm stepped right inside, leaving the music to pour out as we followed him in.
The room smelled of cigarette smoke and potpourri. It had been converted. If/when illicit activities happened, it was clearly very private. There was a large bar in the back left corner where two men sat nursing drinks.
A few more were playin a game of cards.
Women sat around seemingly content, dressed in comfortable lookin lingerie. A Baphomet banner like the one Cali had in her bedroom hung on a wall.
“Grimm, Cobra, bout time ya’ll showed your faces around here. How long has it been? Six months, almost?” the redhead asked as she approached with a genial smile on her pretty face.
I side eyed Grimm but his expression gave nothin away. “Rome told you we were coming?” he asked, getting right to the point.
“Yeah.” Her smiled slipped a bit.
“Your regular rooms are ready, and room four’s been prepped for your friends. No one will bother you. Romero’s message is with Tucker.” She gestured to the bartender.
“Come on, Brat,” he said over his shoulder, pushing past her and headin towards the wooden stairs. We went up, going to the door with a golden number two on it. He pushed it open and gestured for me to enter before him.
“Me
et me down at the bar in five,” he said to Cobra, who had stopped at a door across the hall.
