18Welcome HomeThe wooden door to the club stood at the bottom of a short flight of concrete steps flanked either side by a solid metal railing. The whole thing sheltered under a Gothic arch made of large blocks of carved stone that looked intentionally too big for the door way.
There were no signs or colors to mark the club, apart from a face-high hole in the door guarded by three metal bars and a backing of shaded glass. A lookout inside would be afforded a close-up view of whoever demanded entrance.
Conn rapped on the door with the stock of his shotgun. He had the other arm over Soren’s broad shoulders. There was no sound coming from inside which was unusual for a Friday evening, no talking or music playing. On a normal night, the bar would be buzzing.
Soren leaned forward to look thr
