There were three locked rooms at the Sin tonight. The doors didn't rattle on their hinges, there was no screaming or sounds of breaking glass from inside the rooms, no sign that the single occupants were even there. In fact, there were only five people in the establishment that knew they were there: the three people that had been attacked, one
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He was following the loudest shouts and that's why he was peering into the Sin.
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Fed up with the foolishness, Draco finally got a hand on his wand and stunned the man into unconsciousness. He didn't care if the idiot choked to death on his own blood.
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Fuck did his head ever hurt. He suspected that damn bottle had left some pretty souvenirs too.
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He paused, surveyed the scene, then the siren whistled out a harmonious melody that could quell even the most restless of horses.
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"The authorities, I presume?" he said, and made no move to get off the floor, instead choosing to lean his back against the bar. "Forgive me for not standing. I am Draco Malfoy, the less than pleased manager. How do you do?"
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He nodded about the authorities being here. "Sorry we took so long. The paramedics are on their way. I'm Hale." No real sense in explaining he was the chief of police. It didn't actually matter.
"What happened?" Hale moved his discerning gaze to the man in constraints.
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The wizard nudged the restrained man with his boot heel. "This bastard was arguing with my bartender. When I requested that he leave, he got me with a bottle," he said, motioning towards the blood on his face from the head wound. "I suppose everyone else took that as their cue to beat the shit out of one another."
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