Sullivan stormed past the guards. One moved to stop him, but Sullivan shot him a dark glare that made the man stumble back, dropping his gun. A few steps further, he saw Crimson emerge from a room, the upper half of his face covered with a white fur mask. Below the mask's edge was pale skin and even paler lips that curved into a smirk. Sullivan stalked toward him.
Several guards in black clothes stepped in, forming a barrier between the two, blocking Crimson from Sullivan's wrath.
"Where the hell is my daughter?" Sullivan growled, his voice trembling with barely contained rage. If anything happened to Bloom, he would destroy the Underground—consequences be damned.
Crimson peeked out from behind a burly guard, chuckling. "You sound angry. I can't be sure why; I'm an impeccable host..." He turned and strolled into the parlor. The guards parted, allowing Sullivan to follow.
