The casino doors closed behind me with a heavy thud, muffling the laughter, clinking glasses, and music inside.
Out here, the air was cold and damp. The kind of air that slipped under your collar and reminded you the city was more stone and rot than velvet and gold.
My pouch of winnings rested at my hip, coins whispering with each step like they were telling me secrets only I could hear.
I cut through a narrow alley, shadows stretching long against the cracked walls. Rats scattered ahead of me, their tiny claws scratching against stone.
And then a softer sound padded behind me.
I stopped.
From the dark, two yellow eyes blinked open like lanterns.
A low, playful purr rumbled, and then a shape slipped free from the shadows — sleek, black, tail curling with that infuriating air of confidence only cats possess.
"Teach me," Nyx said, his voice a whisper threading straight into my mind.
I groaned. "Not you too."
