"Remember that rat-faced guy you were looking for? The one who delivered the Dušan’s book and the first letter from your father?"
"You’ve discovered who he is?"
"Better than that. I know where you can find him. And he’s there right now if you want to talk to him."
Chapter Eight
THE CAB PULLED UP SEVERAL DOORS DOWN FROM the run-down building. I paid the driver and climbed out, the wind snatching my coat ends and flinging them backward. I shivered and zipped it up, shoving my hands into my pocket as I studied the building.
According to Stane, this area had recently been rezoned from industrial to residential, but the demolition teams had yet to move in. As a result, the city’s homeless had taken up residence.
The building the rat-faced courier had entered was a quaint two-story brown-brick building sandwiched between two bigger warehouses. Large windows looked out onto the street but there was little chance of anyone seeing me standing here, as somewhat grimy blinds had been drawn down in all of them.
"These are the premises we seek?" Azriel said softly.
I nodded. "Stane couldn’t give us his name, but thanks to the traffic cams down the road, he spotted our rat-faced shifter enter here forty-five minutes ago. He hasn’t come out."
"Then let us go in and find him." He drew his sword. Valdis gleamed brightly in the dull afternoon light.
"You do realize we can’t kill him?" I commented as we crossed the road.
Azriel looked at me. "You seem to be of the opinion that I enjoy shedding blood."
"I am of the opinion that you’ll do whatever is necessary to complete your mission. And if that means killing, then yeah."
"I cannot kill if it is not warranted—something you’ve been told several times."
Then he pushed the door open and stepped through, Valdis’s fire imparting an eerie glow to the shadow-filled hallway.
His gaze swept the immediate vicinity, then he looked up. "There are three people upstairs, five people on this level, and one downstairs, in the basement."