Page 63 of Doyle

I growled at Ivan when he dusted off the rest of the offending breadcrumbs.

"You're going to clean that up, right?" I demanded.

"Well, someone ruffled your scales," Ivan remarked.

He didn't answer me and simply got out of my ride.

Reminding myself that patience was a virtue, especially when it came to Ivan, I exited the vehicle.

We stood in front of an old, decrepit house. The paint was peeling, and the windows were grimy, giving it an eerie, abandoned look.

It was the kind of place that screamed black magic user hideout.

I felt a twinge of unease but pushed it aside, focusing on the task at hand.

Ivan pulled out a small, folded map from his pocket and spread it on the hood of my truck.

"Alright, according to Zane, there's an entrance to an underground tunnel around the back. That’s where we’ll find them,” he said.

I studied the map, then glanced at Ivan. "How accurate is this information?" I asked.

"Pretty accurate," Ivan replied, packing up the map. "Zane got it from one of our informants who used to do odd jobs for Liliana's coven. They swore it was reliable."

"Let’s hope so," I muttered, not entirely convinced.

I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off.

We moved cautiously towards the back of the house, staying alert for any signs of traps or ambushes.

Ivan, despite his earlier nonchalance, was now focused, scanning the surroundings with keen eyes.

When we reached the backyard, Ivan pointed to a patch of overgrown weeds.

"There, that's where the entrance should be,” he said.

I nodded, stepping forward to clear the weeds. Sure enough, we found a rusty, old hatch hidden beneath.

I glanced at Ivan, who gave me a curt nod, signaling he was ready.

I grabbed the handle and heaved it open. The hinges creaked loudly, and a foul, musty odor wafted up from the darkness below.

I wrinkled my nose in disgust but pressed on, descending the ladder with Ivan close behind.

The underground tunnel was damp and dimly lit, with a narrow passage that seemed to stretch on forever.

The air was thick with the smell of mold and decay. We moved silently, the sound of our footsteps echoing eerily off the walls.

As we delved deeper, I couldn't shake the nagging feeling that we were walking into another trap.

I glanced at Ivan, who seemed calm and collected, munching on a chocolate bar. I envied his ability to stay so relaxed in situations like this.

Suddenly, the tunnel widened into a large chamber. My heart pounded as I saw two figures moving in the shadows.

Ivan and I exchanged a quick glance, and we moved forward, ready for whatever awaited us.

"Stay sharp," I whispered.

"Let me go!" someone shouted, the voice young and desperate.

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