From his perch high up in the shadows, Evan watched people trickle in and out of the club below, oblivious to the danger above their heads. A young man approached the entrance to De la Morte with a group of four others. Evan focused on him, seeing far more detail from such a distance than any mortal could ever hope. The man’s skater haircut lent a touch of boyish appeal to his overall appearance. Charcoal-circled eyes resembled deep, brown pools, and the man’s hairless chest beckoned to Evan from beneath a fishnet shirt, begging Evan to touch, taste, and devour. Evan jumped off of the roof and into the alleyway. Then he followed the young man inside.
The interior of the club was as dark as Beacon Inn, but Evan knew its layout much better. He had been here many times in the past, but only
