“We have a situation at the docks,” Lucian said, his voice dropping an octave.

He looked down at Bishop, then back up at me.

“Go back inside, Mara,” he commanded.

“No,” I said, pulling my thin coat tighter around my shoulders.

“My shift ended ten minutes ago.”

“I am not asking.”

I took a step toward the iron gate.

The metal was cold, slicked with the greasy rain of the city.

Bishop moved with me instantly.

His heavy shoulder pressed against my thigh, his wet fur soaking through my trousers.

“Bishop,” Lucian barked.

The dog did not even twitch his ears toward his master.

He kept his amber eyes on the dark alley beyond the gate, his muscles tense.

“He needs to go with you,” I said, my voice shaking slightly in the cold air.

“Call him.”

“I just did,” Lucian said.

He stepped closer, his heavy leather boots clicking on the wet stone.

The scent of expensive tobacco and rain followed him.

He reached out to grab Bishop’s thick leather collar.

Bishop bared his teeth, a low, vibrating rumble starting in his chest.