Run: 2026-02-20-01KHY9WNMZPT09D7W24A4YDR7A

The neon glow of the Raven’s Nest pulsed like a dying heartbeat against the rain-slicked windows of Soho, its green sign flickering as if warning the world to stay away. Detective Harlow Quinn adjusted the strap of her leather satchel, her breath fogging the cold glass as she stepped onto the pavement, the wet asphalt biting at her boots. The air smelled of damp stone and something older—something metallic and faintly metallic, like old blood. She had been chasing Tomás Herrera for hours. Not just because he’d stolen a witness’s statement, not just because he’d been seen near the Veil Market at midnight, but because the way he moved, the way he *looked* at her—like she was a threat he’d rather outrun than face—made her skin prickle. And then there was the way her partner, DS Morris, had vanished three years ago, not in a gunfight or a car chase, but in a place where the air hummed with something she couldn’t name. Something that had left her partner’s body *wrong*, as if the world itself had tried to unravel him. Quinn’s fingers tightened around the worn leather watch on her wrist. The clock inside had stopped at 11:47. She’d been chasing Herrera for over two hours. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could keep up. The rain came down harder now, turning the street into a slick mirror of her own shadow. Herrera’s taillights had vanished into the gloom of a side alley, the car’s engine purring like a trapped animal. Quinn followed, her breath shallow, her pulse hammering in her ears. She didn’t know if he was leading her somewhere, or if he was just running from her. But she was running from him too. The alley narrowed, the air thick with the scent of damp earth and something else—something sharp, like ozone after a storm. Quinn’s pulse spiked. She’d been in underground markets before, but never like this. Never like this *place*. Then she saw the flicker of movement ahead—a figure crouched in the shadows, a bone token glowing faintly in their palm. Herrera. She didn’t hesitate. The last thing she needed was to be caught in the open. She ducked into the alley, her boots splashing through puddles, her breath ragged. The air smelled different here, heavier, like the weight of secrets pressed against the walls. And then she heard it—the sound of footsteps, light and sure, moving toward her. Quinn’s blood turned to ice. Herrera was coming. She didn’t have time to think. She lunged forward, her fingers brushing against something cold and smooth—a rusted pipe, slick with rain. She grabbed it, twisting it free with a sharp yank. The pipe clattered to the ground, and Herrera’s footsteps faltered. “You’re not leaving,” Quinn said, her voice steady, her grip tight. “Not until I know what you’re hiding.” Herrera didn’t answer. He just turned, his dark eyes flickering with something Quinn couldn’t read—fear? Defiance? Something darker. “You shouldn’t be here,” he said, his voice low. “This isn’t for you.” “Then tell me what you’re selling,” Quinn pressed, her pulse roaring in her ears. “And don’t lie to me.” Herrera’s scar ran along his forearm, a jagged line of memory. Quinn’s gaze flicked to it, then back to his face. “You know about the Veil Market,” he said. “You know what goes on there.” She didn’t answer. She didn’t have to. The air grew colder. The rain fell heavier, but it wasn’t just water this time. It was something else, something that clung to her skin like a second layer, damp and clammy. Quinn’s breath hitched. She’d felt this before. In the station, in the back of her mind, when she’d first started suspecting things weren’t as they seemed. Herrera stepped closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “They’re not just selling things,” he said. “They’re selling *parts*.” Quinn’s stomach twisted. “Parts of what?” Herrera’s gaze flicked to the alley, then back to her. “People,” he said. “They take them. They take them and… and they change them.” A cold dread settled in Quinn’s chest. She’d seen enough in her time to know what that meant. She’d seen enough to know she was in over her head. Herrera reached into his coat, his fingers brushing against something small and cold. He pulled it out—a bone token, the same kind used to enter the Veil Market. “You don’t understand,” he said. “They don’t just want your money. They want your *story*.” Quinn’s blood turned to ice. She’d been chasing Herrera because she thought he was involved in something shady. But this? This was something else entirely. Something that made her skin crawl, something that made her want to run. But she didn’t run. She stepped forward, her voice a low growl. “Tell me what you know.” Herrera hesitated, then reached into his coat again. This time, he pulled out a small, tarnished key. “They’re moving,” he said. “They’re moving the Market. Tonight.” Quinn’s stomach lurched. “Tonight?” Herrera nodded. “Full moon. They’re taking it underground. To the old Tube station beneath Camden.” Quinn’s mind raced. The Veil Market. The abandoned Tube station. It was too much. Too dangerous. But she couldn’t let Herrera walk away. Not now. “Where are you going?” she asked, her voice firm. Herrera’s eyes flickered with something Quinn couldn’t decipher. “I’m going to stop them,” he said. “I’m going to make sure they don’t take anyone else.” Quinn’s mind raced. She had to think. She had to act. “Then you’re going to need help,” she said. “And you’re going to need it fast.” Herrera’s gaze flicked to her, his eyes dark with something Quinn couldn’t read. “You’re not coming with me,” he said. Quinn’s jaw tightened. “I’m coming,” she said. “And if you think for one second I’m not going to find out what’s going on, you’re wrong.” Herrera’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t know what you’re getting into.” Quinn didn’t answer. She didn’t have to. She knew. She’d felt it in the pit of her stomach, in the way the air had changed, in the way Herrera’s eyes had flickered with something she couldn’t name. She turned, her boots splashing through the puddles, her mind racing. She had to get to the Veil Market. She had to find out what was happening. And if Herrera was right, she was running out of time. The alley ended at a set of rusted metal doors, their hinges groaning in the rain. Quinn stepped forward, her heart pounding in her chest. She didn’t know what was waiting on the other side. But she knew one thing for certain. She wasn’t leaving until she found out.