Curse of the Hallow Moon
“I mean, the big guy might be fine, but you…”
“We don’t want to fuck him,” Vulk asserts, pulling a credit card from his wallet. “We just need to talk.”
“You police?” the woman asks, eyeing me suspiciously. “We’re all paid up here.”
“I’m sure you are, and no, we’re not cops. Just tell Ki-lin that Vulk and Amun are here to talk to him.”
The woman eyes me again, though now it’s more curious than suspicious. “You don’t look like Amun,” the old woman declared, recognising my name. She then gestures at Vulk, “he’s a big tall man with many muscles, like him.”
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