Novel & Cerita Blind Shark Tavern

Black and scaly with a beak full of jagged sharp teeth. In the distance a child cried, the sound cutting through the bleak night, as the moon shone down on quiet streets. I made my way across town to Sapiens, an old tavern that still operated on the outskirts of Briarshire. An establishment that had been passed down through generations and had even withstood the great Lycan wars from two and a half centuries ago. With my enhanced hearing I could make out the lowly chatter of patrons and the giggles coming from the women who worked there. It was a bar, but it also doubled as a bordello house.

The bar to the right of the entrance was crowded with patrons in black. Dark, sensual music blared through the sound system. Clive walked through the crowd, but then Russell appeared in front of us. “Señor, Miss Quinn, the wolves of Bodega Bay are sitting in a booth at the end of the hall. If you'll allow me, I'll introduce you."

The Red Dragon Pavilion stood nestled between two larger buildings, its ornate exterior a stark contrast to the modern structures that flanked it. Red lanterns hung from the eaves, swaying gently in the evening breeze, casting dancing shadows across the gold-trimmed entrance. Steve's eyes narrowed as he studied the establishment. That was the name of the restaurant Sleazy had led them to—a place that, at first glance, appeared to be nothing more than a quaint dining spot. However, Steve's instincts, honed through years of navigating the supernatural underworld, told him differently.

he asked over the loud music playing in the bar. "He has a very weird hobby and enjoys such places like this. I've heard that he owns this establishment too, and this place is a costume-themed bar. It appears as a bar on the outside, but there is a large black market running on the inside," Dylan explained as they walked up to the bartender. "Good evening, gents. What would you like to have?" the handsome, blonde bartender greeted with a smile. "We'd have a Blue Ocean with purple bees, room 001 please," Dylan ordered.

They blended in pretty well despite how big and imposing they were. Evangeline grabbed my hand and raised it high above our heads. “To the bar!” she cheered. The bar was nestled in one of the many shadowy alcoves in the club. Just like the walls, it was painted in graffiti with neon paints that glowed beneath the blacklights. The bartender, a bald male with more piercings than I’d seen on any human being, was leaned halfway over the bar, his lips locked with another male. Nearby was a dark-haired woman who reached behind the bar to grab a half-empty bottle of vodka while the bartender was distracted.

I wasn’t that crazy to start a shootout with all those cops, just because Montero had missed the feel of roaring down the highway in his Charger. I walked into Mermaid Cabin, a dive bar that made the Tambayan Rolling Barrel Bar & Restaurant look like a five-star hotel. As I scanned the dark room for my buddies, I was almost ready for a second tonight. I hated being stood up—those two should have known better than to keep me waiting like some chump. Two waiters were wiping down ripped tablecloths that looked only marginally cleaner than the dumpster I’d just left. Marina Martin herself walked toward me. Though Bella wasn’t the right word to describe her plain, pock-marked face, she was anothe

“What would you order?” Suddenly, Blue averted her gaze. Pressed on regardless. “I’d order two coffees and a cheese and tomato sandwich—a mocha have-here and a takeaway long black,” Blue took pause. As she did, she scanned the crowd of those who had since begun to queue. Wondered how many suffered the same silent fate as she. Somehow, felt no sympathy for those who did. There were worse fates, she was rather aware. Yet her self-sympathy somehow lingered. “The mocha and sandwich would keep me full until lunch. I’d save the black for mid-afternoon when I get hungry again,”

It looked like every other building, no signs or obvious indications of what kind of place it was. It turned out to be a tavern. Derren’s Sauce, the one Loran had mentioned. Drinks were being served to unsavoury types crowded around small tables. There was the slightest of pauses in the intense furtiveness as we entered, and then normal furtiveness resumed. It was a dark and dingy establishment, full of shadowy corners and shady characters. Everyone had a weapon of some kind. Blades hung from belts, glinted from the tops of boots or lay within easy reach on the tables. Many of them had missing limbs.