To Walk the Night by E. S. Moore Page B

and yet he stood there defiant, as if he was the one who held the advantage. He might be big, but I was the one with the weapons.
    “Pablo,” the speaker’s voice lowered to a near growl, “get out of her way.”
    Pablo glared at me a moment longer before stepping aside. He took his eyes off me long enough to glance at the tall, cloaked figure coming down the stairs, before turning his hateful glare back to me.
    I dropped my sword and the smaller Cultist scurried back among the crowd. He felt at his throat and looked relieved that I hadn’t drawn blood.
    The other Cultists bowed their heads as the figure descended. I couldn’t see the man’s face. A hood concealed his features from me, but by the way everyone bowed to him, I guessed I was looking at the Denmaster.
    “She has weapons,” Pablo said, though his voice had lost its edge. “She went for them the moment she stepped in here. She’s dangerous.”
    The cloaked man stopped on the stairs and stared at the Mexican. The entire room was silent. I couldn’t even hear the other Cultists breathing.
    Pablo gulped and bowed his head like everyone else. He seemed to diminish in size with every passing second.
    “Welcome,” the cloaked man said once Pablo was sufficiently cowed. He continued down the stairs. “I was hoping to be here to greet you the moment you arrived, but something came up that required my immediate attention. I hope you will forgive us for our inhospitable welcome.”
    “I’ll live,” I said. “What do you want?”
    “Right to the point, I see,” he said. I detected a smile in his voice, though I couldn’t see it beneath the hood. “If you would follow me, I will take us to a more private part of the Den where we can talk without interruption.” He bowed his head to me before walking across the room.
    I glanced around the room. Every eye in the place was now on me. Privacy would be good. I didn’t want there to be any accidents like with the last guy.
    But did I really trust this guy? He may have gotten Pablo to stand down, but that didn’t mean he was my friend. As far as I knew, he was leading me into a room full of nasty surprises. Everyone seemed to be on the up-and-up, but it didn’t mean that was the case. This was the Luna Cult, after all.
    I ground my teeth as my eyes passed over Pablo and over to the cloaked man. I really had no choice. I came here for a reason and I would see it through regardless of how I felt.
    The man was waiting for me at the far end of the room. He held a door open and was standing to the side. “After you,” he said with a slight bow.
    I started across the room, back stiff, hands ready. Pablo murmured something under his breath I was sure I wouldn’t have liked if I had heard it.
    I kept walking. No matter how much I didn’t like him or like the situation I had put myself in, I couldn’t bring myself to walk away. If I didn’t find out what the Cult wanted, it would bother me until it drove me crazy.
    I paused just outside the room. From the door, there was little to see in the room ahead. I glanced at my host and he gave me another faint nod.
    Without another word, I stepped across the threshold.

10
     
    I wasn’t sure what I expected when I entered the room. Some part of me thought the room would be in shambles, even after seeing how clean it had been in the front room. That was how I had always viewed the Luna Cult. They were a bunch of thugs running the streets who spent more time inflicting pain and terror than doing things like bathing or changing clothes.
    But instead, I was met yet again with a rather pleasant room, furnished as if it were well used and well loved. This was definitely not how I pictured the Luna Cult Den.
    Old plaques hung on the walls around the room. I wasn’t sure if the plaques were remnants from when the place was a library or if they were important to someone in the Cult. I didn’t get close enough to look.
    A desk with a leather office chair behind it sat by a