Robin stepped out into the hallway and looked back at them: Ambrose and Barbara, Raven and Missy.
Just one weird, patched together, mish-mash of a family.
He closed his eyes and imagined Isellta standing near.
Almost close enough to touch.
If he was here, the picture would be complete.
I’d be com—
He opened his eyes and walked away.
I ain’t gonna finish that thought.
He stopped at the elevator and pushed the button a lot harder than necessary.
I just wish my ‘sellta was here.
Hank drove to the nearest bar.
I wish Dave were here.
He’d make this whole adventure a lot more fun.
He’d be here.
I can’t wait to go home to him.
Hank pulled into the parking lot and parked the car.
Hopefully this won’t take long.
Robin left the elevator and looked both ways.
“uhh. Which way is outta here?”
He sniffed the air, searching for the trace of their scents.
Unfortunately, the ventilation system had blown their scents every which way.
He looked left.
He looked right.
“Darnation! They look the freakin’ same! Fine! I’ll just go THAT way.”
He matched left with a fierce determination.
I wish Isellta was here.
He’d probably know which way to go.
Or he’d just teleport me outta here.
He imagined Isellta’s arms around him.
It made him want to scream with frustration.
DARN IT! I wish he was here.
Hank entered The Pristine bar.
He surveyed the scene and his tingling guard senses took over. He noted the darkened corners, any and all escape routes, the distance between the tables. He pinpointed two men and a small girl who seemed just a little off. Maybe they were vampires. Or maybe they were humans who were up to no possible good. He couldn’t quite tell.
But they aren’t my concern.
He walked down the three dark green carpeted stairs that led to the dining area.
He sauntered past the tables, casually checking out the paying customers.
None of them looked like Robin.
None of them seemed to appreciate his meandering around their tables.
Some looked straight up insulted and offended.
He did a slight shrug and walked up the three steps at the far end of the dining area. He approached the bar and patted the counter.
The bartender gave him an annoyed look. “Can I help you?”
Hank ignored the sarcasm. “As a matter of fact, yes.” He pulled out his cellphone and brought up Robin’s portrait. “Have you seen this guy?”
The bartender lowered his gaze to the phone and sniffed. “We here at The Pristine cater to a certain level of quality in our clientele.”
“I’m sure you do. So? Yes or no?”
“No. We do not serve riff raff here and he is clearly—-”
“Have you seen him at all?”
“I don’t associate with riff raff.”
“Sir. Please. Yes or no?”
“No. But go check The Butchered Chicken. They are painfully indiscriminate in who they let in through their doors.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Don’t mention it and please don’t return.”