I had never understood those letters until this very moment.

“Come on, boy,” I whispered to Bishop.

We climbed up the muddy bank, staying close to the brick walls of the empty warehouses.

The rain showed no signs of stopping, washing the mud from my shoes as we hurried down the narrow alleyways.

I had to get to the Black Orchid.

It was late, but the kitchen staff would still be cleaning up after the dinner rush.

Alina would be there.

More importantly, Lucian Draven’s men patrolled that block, making it safe territory.

It was the only place where the men hunting me might hesitate to pull a gun.

We crossed two more streets, keeping to the shadows beneath the rusted fire escapes.

Bishop kept his head low, his eyes scanning every dark corner we passed.

My chest ached from the cold air and the sudden sprint through the night.

Finally, the glowing neon sign of the Black Orchid appeared through the mist.

The green orchid shape flickered against the dark, wet brick of the building.

I hurried toward the back entrance, the heavy metal door that led into the kitchen.