No Promises
No Promises
403 words
I shivered. The Street of the Dead. I knew it was perfectly safe at this time of night, all the occupants were either truly dead, locked away in their vaults, or out hunting far from here, most likely down on High Street where the bars stayed open late and some of the unadvertised spots never closed. There were certainly folks out there making a fortune in the new economy. I wasn’t one of them.
What was I doing here, I asked myself for the millionth time, as I paced in front of a particularly elaborate mausoleum with the name Gedding engraved in the marble above the entry. Lightning flashed and I turned to see Jacob walking up the cobble-stoned street. Watching him stride toward me, his black trench coat billowing in the wind, I had to force myself to stand still, not to take off running down the road. Jacob made me nervous, but he was a good client....