WREN

GOD, I hoped I knew what I was doing. Through the windshield of my car, I looked up at The Dollhouse, feeling my stomach churn. I felt like I was making a deal with the Devil here, although if I were honest with myself, Bane Rivera was one fine-looking devil. Glancing at the black card on the passenger seat, I tried to recall what he’d told me on the phone this afternoon after I’d finished with my last client. He’d said I could come through the front, that the bouncer would wave me through.

As I worked through washing dogs and clipping claws, I had time to think about...