The night was bitterly cold. Trinket's breath came out in puffs as Booker led her through the darkened streets. It was hard to tell where they were going, seeing as she was still slightly unfamiliar with the layout of the city. Maybe it was better that she didn't know. If Booker felt it necessary to arm her literally from head to toe, they couldn't be headed anywhere good.

As they turned into a filthy, dead-end alley, he leaned in towards her. "Watch out in here," he whispered, his breath warming her ear. "Don't trust anyone. Don't give any detailed information about yourself. Be subtle."

She nodded her understanding, and he led her to the back of the alley. She half expected him to knock on the wall and reveal a hidden door, but instead, he crouched down and tapped on a cellar hatch that practically blended into the trash and debris littering the ground. After a few moments, the door was thrown open, and a young man with a pug-like nose peered out. He glanced at Trinket suspiciously, but when he caught sight of Booker, his expression turned to respect.

"Right this way, Mr. Larkin," he said, disappearing into the shadows.

Booker carefully stepped through the entrance and offered his hand to help her inside. Once they were both within the entryway, the young man leaned over to shut and lock the door, pitching them into complete darkness until a match sparked to life. They followed the tiny flame down a set of stairs that they could not see for the inky blackness. She was thankful for Booker's arm around her shoulders and found herself holding on tightly to his waist as she tested each stair before proceeding.

The young man waited for them by yet another door as they reached the final step. Booker tucked her hand into the crook of his arm and gave it a quick squeeze before their escort opened the door and led them inside.

Raucous laughter welcomed them as they entered. Blinking against the sting of cigar smoke, she took in her surroundings. It was nothing more than an abandoned basement with a few candles and lanterns scattered about, casting menacing shadows throughout the room. The cement walls were covered in mold, the dirt floor stained with what looked suspiciously like blood. Crowds of men and women surrounded rickety tables where various games were being played: cards, dice, something that involved knives.

The men outnumbered the women for sure, but there were a handful of ladies participating in the entertainment. Of course, some of them were also providing the entertainment. Garishly dressed night flowers prowled the room, taking any opportunity they could find to plop themselves into the laps of inebriated players and distract them with their wandering hands.

Booker stopped short as one particular night flower lazily wove her way through the crowd, her eyes fixed on him. "Oh Lord," he mumbled.

She was by far the prettiest of all the women there, night flower or otherwise. Her cherry lips curled into a wicked smirk as she tucked a dark curl behind her ear. A slight hint of rouge colored her porcelain cheeks, although, considering how cold it was, the blush could have been natural. Whatever the case, it gave her a slightly girlish look that tempered the brazen determination in her eyes.

"Didn't know you'd be here tonight," she said to Booker, snaking her arm around his own.

His muscles went tense. "Yes, well, it's been far too long since I've had a good time, so why not?"

The woman leaned into him, her ample bosom strategically placed in his direct line of vision. "If it's a good time you're after, you know I can always help you with that."

He gently untangled himself from her grip and backed away. "Thank you, Grace, but I think I'm capable of generating my own fun."

Her eyes flitted to Trinket. "Ah, or have you already found a bit of skirt to fulfill your needs?"

Trinket's cheeks flushed, and she quickly averted her gaze.

"Oh, no, you've got it all wrong, Grace," Booker said. "Trinket here is my lovely assistant."

"Assistant? Since when has Booker Larkin needed an assistant?"

A cheer erupted from the nearby dice table. A tall, hairy man laughed triumphantly as he pulled a pile of coins towards himself.

"Already a winner," Booker said. "This promises to be a productive night."

Grace scoffed as she nabbed a glass of what smelled like brandy from a tipsy fellow passing by. "So long as the Mice don't show up."

"Yes, I've heard they've been causing some trouble as of late."

"Ever since they caught that demon wolf, everyone is too afraid to take any big money from them. Sure makes for some dull game nights."

"Have they said much about the Wolf? How they caught it or anything?"

"Not that I'm aware of, but I've been a tad preoccupied with my own work. Why? You're not looking for trouble tonight, are you?"

He grinned. "Aren't I always?"

"Even you know better than to antagonize the Mice, Booker. Don't be a fool."

"Beg pardon, but I am no fool. I simply came to enjoy a game of cards and maybe try my hand at some dice."

"You're rubbish at dice."

"True, but everyone's happy to have me join all the same."

Someone called out Grace's name from a card table. She cast Booker one last glare before draining her glass and disappearing into the chaos.

Booker's entire body seemed to breathe a sigh of relief once she was gone. "Night flowers like to take advantage of game nights," he explained to Trinket. "See that curtained off area over there? It's where they conduct their business. So be sure to steer clear."

He pointed to a corner of the room blocked off by a patched-up curtain, just large enough to fit two people if they stayed standing.

Her body flushed with heat. "I see."

Goodness. She had landed in a den of sin. What would her mother think if she knew?

"No Mice yet," Booker said as they moved further into the room.

"Are they supposed to be here?"

He drew her closer to avoid a small brawl that had broken out at the card table. "I haven't a clue, but they often show up at these things, so I figure my chances are good."

"Well, well, well. It's been a while since you've darkened the doors of a game night."

Gin emerged from the crowd, a cheeky grin spread across her face. "Indeed it has," Booker said. "How goes it?"

She shrugged. "I've won every hand I've played so far, so nothing too unusual."

His smile bordered on proud. "You'll clean them out yet."

The girl's attention turned to Trinket's hat. "You look awfully nice. Booker actually managed to drag you out here?"

"I need her keen eye for sleuthing tonight," Booker said.

Gin narrowed her eyes at him. "You're waiting for the Mice."

"You know it."

"Booker, be careful."

"I always am."

"No, you're not," Trinket interjected.

He laid a hand against his chest and feigned hurt.

"She's right," Gin said. "You take risks."

"As do you," he said.

"Not with the Mice."

"I'll be fine. This is simply a fact-finding mission. I'm not looking to start any fights."

"It's not hard to start a fight with them. And you're the type to win more enemies than friends."

"True, but tonight will be different. I'm sure of it."

Gin wrinkled her nose and opened her mouth as if to argue further but was interrupted by another eruption of noise from the dice table. A short man stood on the table, pumping his fists in the air as the surrounding onlookers cheered him on.

"If you'll excuse me," Booker said, "I don't think I can resist the excitement going on over there for one more second. I'll be back soon. Remember, stay alert."

He tipped his hat and then left them to join the growing crowd.

Gin let out a sigh before turning to Trinket. "You'd better watch it. The more these louts drink and win and lose, the feistier they're gonna get. And with you looking all pretty-like, they might try their hand at you."

Trinket's muscles tightened as she again glanced about at the large, intimidating men who were growing more inebriated by the minute. "Lovely."

"You play?" Gin asked, her eyes wandering to the dice table.

"No, I wouldn't even know where to begin. As Booker said, I'm only here to observe."

The urchin barely seemed to be listening, her attention glued to the table Booker had run off to. "Mm. Well, don't do anything too stupid."

With that final warning, she followed her diverted gaze and slipped unnoticed into the dice crowd.

Trinket sighed and stared off at the rowdy sea of people. She was alone. Alone and completely clueless. Why had Booker brought her here? What use could she possibly be in such an unfamiliar environment? And what had he been thinking, abandoning her like that? His faith in her abilities was surely misplaced.

"Why did I let him talk me into this?" she mumbled, keeping her head down as she slipped into the shadows by the entrance where she hoped she would go unnoticed until Booker was ready to leave.

Just as she tucked herself into the corner, the door flew open, slamming against the wall. She jumped at the sudden noise, her hat nearly tumbling to the ground. As she righted it and made certain the knife was still in place, her eyes flickered to the two men striding into the room.

And her heart stopped.

The Ape Man.