The twins made their way toward the Sorbonne and Nykos realised they must be students - that would explain their arrogant confidence in their own safety. They knew the area, but only a little, and yet felt a sense of propriety only students ever felt. The minds of the Latin Quarter were not so brilliant as they had been in Peter Abelard's day. The girls turned down Rue Patrice Duvic, a narrow, winding cobblestone path that would lead, perhaps, to their flat, but was devoid of life.

Nykos growled with pleasure as he removed his hat. If they progressed any further they would be too close to the Sorbonne and more likely to encounter other students of the great Paris University. No, this narrow rue would be the end of their journey. journey. It amused him to think that once upon a time he might have feared to tread these streets, but the gargoyles that had been placed atop Parisian architecture to frighten demons away had long since lost their power.

The Lothgar demon shrugged off his heavy coat, allowing it to fall to the ground and began to gracefully bound toward the women. Their scent grew stronger in his nose and he quickened his pace. He would take them with ease, rip open their soft throats to immobilize them and feed upon their succulent meat. Then, sated, he would return to his den deep within the sewers of Paris to rest and digest, until hunger and the need to hunt roused him once again.

Two figures disconnected from the shadows in front of the twins and stopped them. Again Nykos cursed beneath his breath and pressed himself flat into the deepest darkness against the side of a building. His stomach rumbled with the expectation of food.