For a moment I just gape after him, rooted to the spot. This is insane. I must have fallen asleep with that damn vampire book and now my subconscious is punishing me. But the cold stone beneath my feet feels too real. The smell of smoke and old metal is too sharp to ignore or pass off as a dream.
Before I can stop myself, I hurry after him, clutching my towel with one hand and trying to cover myself with the other.
“Wait a minute! Where are we going? How did I get here? I can’t stay here—I need to go back home!”
He glances over his shoulder, those gold teeth flashing again.
“Too many questions, my queen. One at a time, if you please.”
I jog to keep up, the towel slipping dangerously with every step. My bare feet slap the cold stone, and each sound echoes like a drumbeat, chasing me through the dark. My gut tells me the further I follow him, the further I get from home. But what choice do I have? The door that led me in here has completely disappeared.
“Where are we?” I demand.
He taps one long, bony finger against the side of his nose.
“We’re in the In-Between—a magical tunnel of my own devising, designed to hop us from the Human Realm to the Shadow Realm. Don’t worry—it’s stable, so it is. I’m the best Realm Hopper there is, if I say so myself.”
“The Shadow Realm?” The words sound absurd—like a romance novel come to life.
“Sure, the Shadow Realm.” He says it as casually as if he’s naming a suburb. “’Tis the land where all who aren’t human dwell. You have your Demons from the Carnal Bazaar…your Dragons from the Gilded Warrens… The High Fae live in the Briar Court, and of course the Necromancers hole up in the Hollow Necropolis.”
He shudders theatrically.
“Scary fuckers, they are. I’d steer clear if I was you, my Curvy Queen. Then there’s the Shifters—they call their territory the Savage Den, and it’s rightly named for a more savage lot of fuckers you’ll never see. And of course…” He spreads his arms wide, his coat billowing. “The place I’m taking you—The Bleeding Court.”
I stop dead, appalled.
“The Bleeding Court?”
“Yes indeed. Got to get through the Nocturne Gates and the Central Hub first, but we’ll manage. Old Whistler can smuggle anyone through.”
“Whistler?”
He nods, tapping his chest proudly.
“That’s me, girly. Whistler the Realm Hopper, at your service.”
“This is insane.” My voice comes out breathless. “These places you’re naming—they sound like something I’d read in a paranormal romance novel!”
“Well, I guess you could call us paranormies if you like.” He shrugs his bony shoulders, leather duster creaking with the motion. “But we’re real enough. You humans just forgot us. Legends and tales, that’s what you think we are—but we’ve been here all along. It’s just harder for us to get to your world since the Magistrate took control and locked the Realms down.”
I’m only absorbing about half of what he says. My head is spinning while my stomach twists. A bad dream—this has to be a bad dream.
“So—the, uh, the Bleeding Court.” My voice wobbles. “What kind of place is that? And why are you taking me there? Can’t I just go home?”
“Afraid not, girly.” He shakes his head firmly, his long gray-brown hair swinging. “You see, I’ve been paid a king’s ransom to bring you to the Don of the Crimson Syndicate and I don’t intend on giving a single bit of that gold back.”
“What?” My voice jumps an octave. “There must be some mistake! Why would some… some weird supernatural Mafia Don want me? You must have grabbed the wrong woman!”
“Oh no—you’re the right one.” His grin gleams, golden teeth flashing in the firelight. “The Don has been watching you for ages in his little magic mirror. You’re the one, my Curvy Queen.”
I open my mouth to demand more answers—to ask who this Don is, why he’s spying on me, what the hell any of this means—but before I can, we reach the end of the corridor.
A wooden door looms before us, bound in black iron, the kind of thing you’d expect to see in a medieval dungeon.
Whistler raises a bony finger to his lips. “Now hush. We’ve arrived at the Nocturne Gates. Before we pass through, you’ll need a disguise.”
“A disguise? As what?”
