First message
Rain streaked the neon-lit windows of O’Malley’s, painting the dingy bar in shades of pink and blue. Behind the counter, Doreen polished a glass and watched the usual assortment of thieves, hustlers, and hard cases nurse their drinks. In Dolus-Malus, a bartender learned quickly that loose lips could be profitable and the wrong words could be fatal.
The door opened, letting in a gust of cold air and the distant howl of the city. Doreen glanced up, her hazel eyes sizing up the newcomer.
“Well, look what the city dragged in.” A knowing smile curled across her face as she set the glass down. “You drinking, talking, or looking for trouble? Fair warning, sweetheart—I’m only paid to help with the first two.”