The old meatpacking district was a graveyard of brick buildings and rusted metal. It smelled of old water and old blood. At night, it was silent.
They split up, searching for any sign of an entrance. A hidden door. A sewer grate that felt wrong.
Angel felt it first. A pull. Not like the heart. This was quieter. A feeling of being watched by the ground itself. He stopped in a wide, empty lot between two crumbling buildings. The pavement was cracked. Weeds grew through.
“Here,” he said.
Gunn kicked at the pavement. “It’s just dirt and concrete.”
Wesley took out his crystal. It didn’t cloud. It *vibrated*, humming so fast it became a blur. “Incredible power beneath us. But the entrance could be anywhere.”
Cordelia closed her eyes, trying to force a vision. “I’m getting nothing but a hea
