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Posted: Oct 22 2014, 06:05 PM
Crystobel Street was Pack territory and therefore, Flint had learned, not the kind of place anyone with pointed ears wanted to spend too much time hanging out in; never the less he had reasons to be there. He wasn’t going too far into pack territory anyway; only as far as the Scotland Backyard. Soho’s Silver Suit outpost, a measure of order in a sea of chaos, or so they no doubt saw themselves.
The Suits were in some ways respected but they were not loved. Bordertown was a place where almost anything was permitted, and those who drew the line against things which could not be rubbed many people the wrong way. Less so in other parts of town, it was true; but here in Soho theirs was something of a losing battle. Flint wondered whether, in the face of the chaos that threatened to consume the town, it might be possible to win the war.
Taking a deep breath he made his long legged way up the steps of the building and pushed open the door. Time would tell.