The night had fallen cold and heavy over the city, the kind of night that pressed down on you with an oppressive weight, as if the world itself was holding its breath. Malia sat at the desk in her office, a half-drunk glass of whiskey beside her, the amber liquid swirling as she turned it in her fingers. The soft hum of the city outside her window did little to drown out the thumping of her pulse. She had been restless all day, the gnawing feeling in her gut growing with every hour that passed.
Nixus had gone out again, seeking information from his network of contacts, trying to dig deeper into the mystery surrounding Evelyn Creed. He had promised her that he would keep her updated, but Malia could tell he was holding something back. There was a wariness in his eyes whenever he looked at her, a tightness in his jaw that suggested more than the usual strain of their dealings. It was clear to her that he knew something. And tonight, he was going to share it.
