I stepped in and Hobart stood up from the chair he'd been sitting in. His face looked pinched with worry. He wore his usual black leather jacket and blue jeans and huge belt buckle that doubled as a weapon. His face unshaven did give him the look of a guy who might be unsavory. The handlebar mustache, however stood out from the nest of brown beard that had grown around it. Frankly, I was surprised that James had let him in.
“Sabrina? I was hoping I'd see you,” Hobart said, a smile creasing the beard.
“Hobart,” I said. “How are you? You look like you've been traveling.”
“I have. I came to speak to you on Vasyl's behalf.”
My jaw dropped. My spine tingled. “Where is he? What's going on with him?” I stepped closer, and as much as I never touch people, I wanted to grab Hobart by the coat an
