Velvet Shadows
The city never slept, and neither did trouble. Liora Vale liked it that way. Streetlights flickered like they were gossiping, alleys whispered secrets only she could hear, and the hum....
The city never slept, and neither did trouble. Liora Vale liked it that way. Streetlights flickered like they were gossiping, alleys whispered secrets only she could hear, and the hum of neon was a lullaby for people who thrived in chaos. Most folks avoided the night, but Liora had always felt more alive when the world was at its most dangerous. Maybe it was because danger, unlike people, rarely betrayed you. Tonight, danger wore a suit. One that smelled faintly of expensive cologne and unspoken threats. She leaned against a brick wall in an alley behind The Gilded Crow, a nightclub famous for its bad decisions and excellent cocktails. Her black leather jacket was scuffed in all the right places, and her boots—stupidly impractical but gorgeous—clicked on the wet cobblestones. The rain had stopped, leaving the air smelling like asphalt and betrayal. Liora checked her watch. Ten minutes late. Not bad. She always said punctuality was a polite form of vengeance against the universe.