Chapter Twenty-FourI again reach Rose’s apartment without misadventures.
After she lets me in, I tell her and Vlad about my vision and Baba Yaga’s phone call, then hand the bag with the toothbrush over to Vlad and hold my breath in anticipation.
He grabs the bag with the tips of his fingers, as though it were a frog and he were a squeamish Victorian lady. Sniffing the contents, he wrinkles his nose just as the aforementioned lady would, and says, “Yes. I can use this.”
He then turns away, and all I see are a few sparks of silvery energy blocked by his broad shoulders and back.
Did he put that toothbrush in his mouth?
Curiosity is killing me.
“Brooklyn.” He turns on his heel, pulls out his phone, and taps the screen a few times. “Here.” He steps closer and shows me a GPS app.
The pin
