Page 97 of Viktor

“I ain’t gotta tell you anything.” He eyed Waverly and licked his lips. “But I’ll help you out if you let me have a go at your bitch. Hmm…her pussy smells fresh.”

In a flash, Viktor’s hand smacked across the bartender’s face, knocking him to the ground. Blood splashed onto the glasses he’d just washed.

“Where’s this Ivar?” Viktor growled.

“Behind the purple curtain.” The bartender coughed and spat blood onto the floor. “Follow the no trespassing signs.”

“Sit tight, and I might let you live,” Viktor told him.

“Piss off,” the bartender muttered.

“Best keep your mouth shut.” Greyson glared at him as he pulled out a stool.

“Do me a favor and monitor things up here while we go have a chat with Ivar. Keep an eye on him.” Viktor glanced over his shoulder toward the back of the bar.

“You can’t go back there. Ivar doesn’t—” The bartender attempted to speak.

“Shut the fuck up or you’ll be in the tunnel next,” Greyson warned.

Viktor took Waverly’s hand in his and headed toward the back of the club. Not a soul dared to look up as he passed through the crowd. Toward the back of the room, a sign on the wall warned off trespassers. A dark purple curtain hung in the doorway. Viktor brushed it aside and entered a small vestibule that led to a staircase.

He stared down the stairway. A single lightbulb swung from a wire above. The unfinished concrete appeared cracked and crumbling. He glanced down to his feet, anger surging at the sight of his boots. “Every time I get a new pair of shoes. Well fuck.”

“Are you sure we should go down there?” Waverly asked, her voice a low whisper.

“We’ll be but a minute.” Viktor’s words sounded far more confident than what lay in his thoughts. Going down into the basement of a potential lowlife was never a good idea, but questioning Ivar was long overdue.

“Oh my God,” Waverly exclaimed as she snatched her hand away from the wall.

“What is it?” he asked.

“This place.” Waverly’s voice shook as she spoke. “I can feel something through the wall. Something terrible is happening.” She briefly touched it again. “Someone’s down there. More than one person. I can’t explain what I’m feeling. I can’t see anything specific, but it doesn’t feel okay. I don’t know if we should go down.”

“It’s going to be all right. He won’t get you,” Viktor promised and looked to Rafe. “You’re ready to shift?”

“You know it,” the wolf nodded.

As they descended, the light flickered, heavy metal music growing louder with each step.

“What is that sound?” Waverly asked.

“Lorna Shore. Death Coffin,” Rafe replied with a fist pump.

“Cliché.” Every damn wannabe used the music to conceal screams. It worked most times to keep the humans at bay, but still struck Viktor as amateurish.

I can barely think. Waverly looked to Viktor without speaking and covered her ears.

It’s okay. Stay close. When they reached the landing, Viktor poked his head into the basement, quickly scanning the empty space. A string of black lights hung from the ceiling. The walls appeared to move in the dimly lit room. An upside down cross hung upon the single black wooden door.

Waverly released a muffled scream as a roach crawled over her foot. She kicked at it, and it flew into the air towards her head. “Jesus Christ. I hate bugs.”

Viktor swatted it out of the air, sending it slamming into the floor. “Are you okay?”

“What’s in here?” she gasped. A low hum grew louder as she took a step towards Viktor. “Something’s in here with us.”

Well before Waverly’s eyes had a chance to adjust to the darkness, Viktor saw them. Hundreds of cockroaches swarmed on the wall.

Then he heard the heartbeats. Humans.