Magic Currents (Cursed Angel Collection) by Jayne Faith & Charmed Legacy & Cursed Angel

Author:Jayne Faith & Charmed Legacy & Cursed Angel [Faith, Jayne]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Charmed Legacy
Published: 2017-11-20T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 15

EXPECTING THAT THE meeting at the brewery had already dispersed for the evening, I steered Lorenzo toward Henrietta’s brothel. She was the head of my Underground enclave and as such my most direct connection to the Underground’s leadership. Lorenzo swayed and slurred a little as we went, but seemed more coherent than before, and in much better spirits. He downed what was left of the coffee and at one point broke out into song, singing softly in a lilting language that was completely unlike anything I’d ever heard.

By the time we reached Henrietta’s, he’d sobered up substantially. I wished I had a leaf of mint for him to chew—his breath was still practically combustible with the fumes of alcohol—but I’d just have to do what I could so he spoke as little as possible.

There was a neon sign advertising the VanGuard Hotel. We approached the door and found it locked. I rapped on the door with my knuckles, casting furtive glances over each shoulder and hoping no one would spot me loitering at the brothel’s door. I pulled my hair around my face with a nervous hand.

A narrow rectangular slot slid open and eyes appeared in the space.

“Yes?” a gruff voice demanded.

“Um, hello,” I said, trying to sound as businesslike as possible. I was dying a little inside as I imagined how this looked—a young woman coming to the “hotel” with a drunk man who was humming softly to himself. “I’m here to see Henrietta. My name is Victoria and this is Lorenzo. She’s expecting me.”

“Wait,” the man on the other side of the door said. The slot closed with a snap.

I blinked, and after a few seconds tried the door again, just in case. Still locked.

“Shells,” I muttered under my breath.

I tried not to fidget as we stood there. Lorenzo, of course, seemed to be experiencing none of my anxiety. He was still singing to himself, and actually put a fist on his hip and shuffled a little jig. I couldn’t help snorting a wry laugh at his display of good spirits, but hoped he would take on a more serious demeanor when we got inside. If we got inside.

A full two minutes passed, and in that time two different men strode past on the sidewalk behind, passing by a couple of times each. When I peered over my shoulder at them, their shoulders hunched and heads pulled down into their coat collars.

Great. We were preventing legitimate customers from entering.

I was just about to give up when the door abruptly swung inward. A hulking man with a buzz cut stood there, and I recognized his eyes from the slot.

“I’ll take you to her.” He waited for us to come in and then bolted the door closed.

Moving softly for such a large man, he led us through the first-floor hallways, which were lined with numbered doors. A few times when I heard the lusty noises of the rooms’ occupants, I tried to pretend that I hadn’t.

Finally, we reached an office where Henrietta sat at a desk with reading glasses perched low on her nose.

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