//CLARA//
The Velvet Noose rose from the freezing fog. Its windows were dark, boarded up against the biting winter.
The door was painted a violent, bruised green, and a single gas lantern burned above it, casting a sickly, flickering emerald glow onto the icy cobblestones.
"Last chance to change your mind," Gary muttered beside me.
"Shut up." My teeth clicked together so hard my jaw ached.
"I'm just saying—"
"I know what you're saying, Gary. I don't care."
We pressed deeper into the mouth of a recessed brick doorway across the street, watching that green door like hawks.
A luxury carriage pulled up, its polished black chassis gleaming under the lamps. Two men in opulent beaver-fur coats disgorged from its velvet interior, disappearing inside without a word to the burly, scarred figure standing guard on the threshold.
