Roman saw a man and two women talking over by one of the tables. A shudder ran down his spine as he got closer. They were the kind he was looking for. It was dangerous, but there was no sign of Priscus Regan. He needed to let Regan know of his presence. Sooner or later, he would need to feed, and stray dogs had never been to his taste.
Had they recognized him? He wanted to run out of the place. That meant yes.
Something fell on top of his shoe. It was water from the condensation on his glass. He had to remind himself to feel the cold wetness against his hand. It was hard to focus in this club. There were too many of them.
He walked towards the trio and smiled. "Excuse me. I couldn't help but notice you are regulars here, and I was wondering if you might be able to help me find someone," he said with the open palm of his right hand facing them and held down to his side. His drink was in the other.