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“Let’s go.” He cleared his throat, strolling across the lane, his gaze scanning everything around us, looking for anything odd before hauling the heavy door open. “After you.”
“So you can use me as a shield if someone attacks.”
“Fuck, yeah. I’m too pretty to die.” He slipped in behind me, shutting the door and cutting out almost all the light. My sight instantly adjusted. A firebulb flickered at the steep stairs we descended. The air changed as we went below ground, the cool temperature pimpling my flesh.
Stepping around a corner, we came out into what looked like an old, cramped pub. The dark place appeared to have been part of an underground tunnel system at one point with curved brickwork ceilings, ducts, and pipes running along the ceilings and walls. The missing bricks in the ceiling suggested this place hadn’t cared about health and safety codes long before the wall fell.
A dozen patrons filled the place. Their low voices bounced off the brick in a steady murmur, making it hard to pick up on anything anyone was saying. I felt their eyes crawling over my skin, a few fully turning to check out the strangers daring to step into this place.
Croygen’s hand slid along my back, pointing me toward the stools at the bar, neither of us showing any sort of nervousness. You gave one inch in these types of places and they pounced, smelling blood in the water. It was in your confidence, your right to be there, and if they fucked with you, they would come to regret it. Most picked up on it, but some, mainly the chauvinist human males, looked at me like prey.
I loved showing them how wrong they were.
“Hey.” Croygen greeted the barkeep, a man who had to be at least half fae. His burly size and larger head and nose hinted at troll heritage. He was good-looking enough, with curly black hair and a sharp, dimpled chin—definitely not full troll.
Cautiously, he watched us, his dark eyes taking us in.
“Two whiskeys,” Croygen ordered, his confidence and ease seeming to work on the barkeep. He nodded, pouring two drinks for us while I turned my body toward Croygen, gazing out into the dark, windowless room and taking a sip.
My cat eyes pierced the veil, able to see every face with clarity. Fat, skinny, fae, human, men, and a few women sprinkled in. They all seemed poor because of the shabby clothing they wore. Most paid no attention to us anymore, and no one stood out as being dangerous or suspect. Though I understood looks could be deceiving.
“Two more.” Croygen downed his last swallow, placing more cash on the counter, far more than what these watered-down drinks were worth, nodding at the bartender.
The man eyed the money, a spark of greed in his eyes.
“We’re looking for someone.” Croygen slid them closer, keeping his hand firmly on them. “And we were told this was the place to find him.”
The man’s lids narrowed, but his focus on the money gave his greed away.
“We’re looking for someone by the name of Dzsinn.”
His chin jerked up at the name, and his gaze leveled on us, jumping between me and Croygen guardedly.
“We just need information,” Croygen spoke smoothly, his countenance like the rolling sea, easing the man’s shoulders down. He watched Croygen push one of the bills toward him. “Get the other half after you help us out.”
The barkeep hesitated for a moment before reaching over and taking the single bill, probably more than he earned in a week or two here. “Come back around eleven,” he muttered low, making sure it was only us who heard. Croygen dipped his head in acknowledgment before the guy walked away, serving another guest down at the end.
“Guess we’re coming back.” Croygen turned to me, taking a huge gulp of his drink and draining the cup, his eyes landing on me with a sexy half grin.
I slammed mine back, and with no food in my stomach, the booze went straight into my bloodstream.
“Want to go get a drink?” His husky voice covered my skin with electricity.
“We’ve already had one.”
“Somewhere less…” He peered around. “Hostile.” Leaning in closer to me. “Get something to eat? I can hear your stomach growling from here,Kitty-Kat.”
My blood boiled instantly at the pet name, but not the way it used to.
My lids narrowed, and I jerked away from him. “Don’t call me that.”
He grinned, seeing right through me.
“Come on, let’s get this pussy fed,” he rumbled in my ear, grabbing my hand and pulling me up the stairs and out the door into the twilight. A bell rang out the hour in the distance, a sign they were still trying to hold to tradition here, signaling the end of the day, which probably meant nothing anymore.
Not far from the Lantern, we found an area that was busier than the rest, with a few pubs dotting the lane. Outside, a man played a piano for tips, a violinist on another corner, while prostitutes walked up and down the lane trying to find patrons inside the taverns drunk enough to fork over money for sex.
Where the rest of the city was winding down, this place was coming alive, ready to take the money you had worked all day for to provide just a little escape, a little diversion.
