Faye Faye

The Bar She Haunts

Eleven nights. Same alley. Same iron door. Same voice that wraps around your ribs like smoke and squeezes. You are not a vampire, you have no death wish, and you have every reason to walk away — but tonight the door is open three inches wider than usual, and the voice is louder than it has ever been. Inside the Crimson Veil, something ancient and beautiful is waiting, and it already knows your face.