Miles away from the university block, down near the old brick commercial strip of the lower town, the morning fog clung low to the cobblestone alleys.
The heavy glass door of Curt's Custom Tailoring & Alterations chimed as it swung open. Inside, the shop smelled faintly of cedar oil, heavy wool, and pressed starch. Rolls of dark tweed and silk lined the high shelves, and polished brass shears glittered under the warm overhead lamps.
Bill stood behind the long cutting table, dressed in a sharp, dark vest over a crisp white shirt. The swelling on his jaw from Molly's slap had been covered with a pale flesh-toned paste, and his thick, rough fingers were busy measuring a length of dark chalk. He looked up, a slow, grim smile spreading across his broad face as the bell quieted.
Two girls from the university's second-year humanities block stepped into the shop, laughing softly as they shook the mist from their coats. One of them was Clara—the exact girl Bill had been tracking through his scope along the eastern perimeter for the past three weeks.
"Good morning," Clara said, stepping up to the counter, entirely oblivious to the man's true identity.
"We were told you're the best in the district for custom alterations. I need a structured, tailor-made leather jacket fitted before the weekend galas, and the campus shop said you handled heavy hides."
"They told you right, miss," Bill said, his gravelly, low rumble filling the quiet shop as he set his chalk down. His eyes narrowed slightly, taking in the precise width of her shoulders and the line of her collarbone with a chilling, predatory precision.
"I specialize in exact measurements. Heavy hides require... a very firm hand and the right tools."
He stepped out from behind the heavy wooden counter, pulling a soft canvas tape measure from around his neck, his grim smile widening just a fraction as he motioned for her to stand on the fitting pedestal.
"Let's see what we're working with," he murmured softly.
Back in the female dorms;
Lira having gotten the confirmation she needed didn't hesitate for a single second. Reaching into her pocket, her unbandaged hand quickly dialed Damon's number, bringing the phone to her ear the moment the line connected.
Damon was currently standing by the edge of the campus Olympic pool, water dripping from his shoulders as his swimming class ran through their morning laps. Hearing his phone buzz relentlessly in his gym bag, he didn't waste time drying off.
"Damon, change of plans," Lira spoke rapidly into the receiver, her voice sharp with urgent authority. "Fiona just had a vision. The attacker from the woods—his name is Bill, and he operates out of a tailor shop on the lower brick lane. Clara just walked into his place alone. Get over to his shop right now before he locks the door!"
He moved the phone away from his ear and looks at it in confusion. " Hold your horses, Who is Clara? " He asked gently rubbing his temples.
"I'll explain everything later, just hurry and head there" Lira replied her voice filled with pleading. Damon on noticing this felt the situation to be a delicate matter that needed to be handled immediately.
Not wanting to draw the attention of people, he casually stepped over to one of the second-year girls resting by the bleachers, flashed a swift, charming smile, and borrowed her phone and dialed Ryan's number.
"Ryan, it's me Damon," Damon said smoothly into the receiver, his tone dropping into a low, urgent pitch.
"Lira got a lead from Fiona. That noise maker from last night—Bill—runs a tailor shop down on the lower brick lane. Some girl named Clara just walked in there alone, it seems like she in a wolf's den", he paused entertaining the approach of the ladies around him. I'm tied up at the swimming practice, so get down there right now and handle it before things get messy."
Ryan on the other hand hadn't been allowed to even utter a word until Damon was silent. He responded with assurance that he would head towards the said place with immediate response he grabbed hus shirt and hurried down to Bill's shop.
A few minutes later, the mist on the lower commercial strip began to clear.
Ryan appeared at the corner near Bill's Custom Tailoring. Just as he approached the glass storefront, the door chimed, and Clara stepped out onto the cobblestones.
She was staggering slightly, her eyes heavy and unfocused, looking pale and dizzy as if her senses had been dulled. Slowly walking a few paces behind her was Bill, his massive frame looming in the doorway, his cold eyes fixed on her retreating back like a predator watching an easy mark.
Before Bill could take another step forward, Ryan reacted. Moving across the street at lightning-bolt speed, he blurred past the parked vehicles and arrived instantly at Clara's side, catching her arm before she could slip on the damp curb.
"Thanks for taking care of her, sir! I'll take it from here," Ryan called out with a bright, easy nod toward Bill, completely oblivious in the moment to the fact that the butcher was actually trying to prey on the girl.
Bill's eyes narrowed, but seeing a male student step in so fast, he smoothly turned away, retreating back into the shadow of his shop and closing the heavy oak door.
Ryan supported Clara's weight, stretching out his free hand toward the main road to hail an oncoming cab. A sleek, polished dark Cadillac pulled up to the curb and came to a smooth stop right in front of them. Still focused entirely on keeping the dizzy girl upright, Ryan opened the rear door and helped her inside, completely failing to notice that the luxury vehicle was obviously not a yellow city taxi.
Inside, the driver's face remained turned entirely away from the rearview mirror, keeping his features hidden in the shadows of the tinted glass. Without Ryan even mentioning a destination or saying a single word, the driver shifted into gear and smoothly drove off straight in the direction of the university campus.
When the Cadillac pulled up to the front gate of the residential block, Ryan reached into his pocket, pulled out a few folded bills, and handed them over the front seat. "Thanks for the lift, keep the change," Ryan said briskly.
He slid out of the car, wrapping Clara's arm around his neck to support her as they walked toward the female dorms. Behind them, Mahito let out a low, amused laugh that vibrated quietly through the leather interior, stepped on the gas, and drove off into the morning fog.