River City Apartments, 11:36 A.M.
His head felt like it had been split in two. The dull light that made its way through the curtains of his bedroom felt like too much, and Alex struggled to recall what the hell happened the night before. He chalked it up to another night of incredible partying, but couldnât remember anything past having a few drinks with a pair of hot models.
Alex took a deep breath, turning on his side. How did he end up on his own bed? His eyes fluttered open just enough to see a bottle of water and a couple of ibuprofen sitting there, as if waiting for him. Who⌠how? Did past Alex know future Alex would end up like this? He didnât think about it overmuch as he reached out for the pills, slipping them between his lips. He propped himself up just enough to take a few swigs of water before sliding back down to get more sleep.
Pepper hopped up onto the bed, licking Alexâs face.
âMmm⌠Pep⌠NoâŚâ Alex groaned, shielding his face a little. âUgh⌠Iâll take you out later. Remind me never to drop acid again,â he joked as she trotted to the open space on the bed beside him and curled up. Flashes of nightmarish images came to mind, but Alex told himself it wasnât real. None of it was. It was all in his head, and sometimes he had a good roll, but sometimes he had a bad trip.
Only Pepper saw what had happened. Only she saw the way someone else carried her human inside and put him to bed. Only she witnessed the way the kind man kept him from choking on his own vomit and stayed with him for a while, pushing his hair away from his face. It was he who put water on the night stand as well as human medicine. It was he who gave her ear scritches and a treat from the jar on the counter, speaking to her in a language that was new to her, but which she could understand nonetheless. She liked him, despite the blood stains on his shirt and the weapon she could smell on him. He was not like the others Alex frequently brought to the apartment. Her tail wagged with gratitude.
Thank you for bringing him back home.
11TH DISTRICT STATION. 12AM
âHey rookie. Got something for youâŚâ
The heavy police file plunked hard down right by Nateâs arm, nearly taking his elbow off with it. His eyes flicked briefly over it and then over to Menaâs silently raised brows before meeting the smirking face above her head. It was the kind of insincere beaming that never meant anything good for the rest of them in the eleventh district, so Nate wearily took the bait. Dread settled in his gut, as he glanced up at the senior vice detective.Â
âYou always chomping at the bit about having more "responsibilityâ ainât cha? so I brought you some.â The booming voice of Ranato Pontiac could be heard all over the precinct. He was very obviously performing for the rest of the station, everyone knew he couldnât stand most of the beat patrols, and thought rookies were less than ants. Nate wasnât fooled for a minute but he extracted a fistful of black-and-white surveillance prints from the file folder anyway. After separating them into sequence, he studied each one, starting with what looked like a nondescript doorway and beefy look out.
"I donât get it, this isnât even my beat. ItâŚlooks like a nightclub of some sort.â He shrugged.
âWell damn, give the rookie a cookie! Look closer kid. Open dealing, gambling, suspected trafficking, underage thots at the bar. Itâs got all that and more.This is a gift Iâm giving youâso say thanks!â Pontiac crossed his arms, dark brows pulling tight over his narrowed eyes. âUnderground VIP Lounge, we need someone to go in and do a little recon. Word on the street, some new designer dust is making its way there from overseas. Stuffâs potent, I got me two ice cubes in the morgue now that ODed on the junk. Untraceable. Doc canât even say how much they got in their system. Shitâs like invisible or something. I need ears on the next shipment, and you just got promoted to the gig, kid.â
Mena shook her head, pointing at the file. âThatâs not our department. Why arenât yaâll in vice handling thisâwhy pull Nate in on an undercover? He doesnât have the experience!â
âFrankly, I would have sent you Legs, I mean you do got the better tetas after all.â Pontiac, winked ending in a slow rude wolfish whistle. âBut as you so quick to remind us all, you got that wife and kid at home. What are you his mommy now too?â
âYou donât.â Mena visibly bristling, challenged right back viper fast and flashing a hard distrustful stare. âYou ainât married. Got no kids either, and youâre vice unlike us.â
Pontiac jutted his chin toward the pile of photos on Nateâs desk. âNot fuckinâ likely muĂąecaâlook at that place. Full wet behind the ears kids like the rookie here. Whole place is mostly UC monied party brats, tanked up junior stockbrokers, teen groupies and the like. Me and my guys stroll up in there weâd never get pass the bouncers. Had to wash a lot of hands just to get the prints. The kid here though has that perfect jail bait look, and heâs the right age too so we ainât gotta spring for fresh ID.â
âHow dare yoââ Mena began ready to go toe to toe with Pontiac.
Mena jerk her head back in Nateâs direction, with an audible choking sound. It was a total violation, and he knew it was on Menaâs growing list of rules. They did not make nice with shitheads like Pontiac. She tried to signal her partner to remind him of that little fact, but he refused to look her way. Instead Nate moved closer to the file, and picked up the stack of prints again. He nodded slowly as he examined them, a grimace faintly etched on his pale face. In one of the photos was a familiar dark head, grinning face and part of a tattooist ink laden bare arm.
Nate shuffled through the pictures again, before studying the one that had Alexander. Already he was resigned to working the case, even with Pontiac on lead. The picture was blurred around the edges as if the taker had caught Hyun right as he was willingly being swallowed into the sea of darkness and disembodied limbs, but it was definitely him. It was Alexander, and this was no old photo. The time stamp had him in the club was nearly as close as just last weekend. Nate did even have to think back long, Hyun claimed he was home last weekend. So heâd lied about watching Netflix with his dog. He probably wasnât even clean or sober like he promised either and he certainly wasnât staying out of trouble by the looks of the photo.
He was shirtless and palming two big handfuls of other peopleâs backsidesâŚ
âAnd you have no clues as to when this mysterious new product is incoming?â Nate asked his voice heavy, even as he ignored Mena still flashing him her patented danger warning eyes. Any other time he would have immediately backed away from the situation, as Mena didnât âwarnâ lightly. Maybe he would explain later, but right now not even he knew why he was agreeing to this.
He knew if something bad was coming down the pipes later he need to warn Alexander Hyun away from it. It was one thing for the little muscle head fool to cruise around on his bike like a tanked up wannabe Korean Hellâs Angel, but it was going to be quite another thing, if he was roped up in a vice drug bust that had a bunch of heavy hitters. Pontiac was a dick, but he had a conviction record miles long. Alexander could and would do real time up north, not just a single miserable night floating in the lush tank.
âIf I knew that rookieâwe wouldnât need you! Thatâs your job. Go in throw a little crisp new money around next weekend. Be reckless, splashy, and find out when theyâre bringing the new hotness over. I need names, and dates. Weâll cover you if it gets a little too warm for your beat collar to handle.â Pontiac wagged his head, gave Nate a shade too hard slap on the shoulder, and headed back to his own desk.
SONNYâS BBQ CHICKEN PIT 12:35AM
âYou know you canât trust him!â Mena hissed, starting right in on him, the very moment they sat down at Sonnyâs counter even before Nate could finally savor the delight of actually getting some food after the drag that had been their long stint of catching up on old paperwork. Mena wasnât even bothering keeping to sanctity of silence they agree upon for dinner during overtime shifts, which funnily enough was her rule to begin with.âPontiac has had a hard on for you since practically day one! You have to know this is some kinda set up!â
Nate put a forkful of macaroni and cheese in his mouth, with its shiny creamy walls and salty concord of savory butter and sharp biting processed yellow cheddar. He loved this American food Mena called âSoul Foodâ. He could understand where the name came from too. Eating in a place like Sonnyâs was like getting a cozy hug from a loved one. Nate often thought African-American mothers had much in common with Chinese mothers, and aunties. Their love was not in showy displays of kisses and smothering embraces, but in the stern security of deeply marinated succulently cooked pork innards and hearty thick lashings of home styled starchy sustenance.
âIâll be fine Mena, besides I canât say no. It would look like Iâm not a team player.â Nate finally mumbled around a mouth full of the still piping hot creamed gooey elbow noodles. Around them was the dull din of voices, the hissing of Sonnyâs famous all wood gill, and the roasted scents of itâs creations that rose around them, like hickory smoked ambrosia and manna. âAs for Pontiac, I know not to trust him. Iâm not as naive as he wants to think. Iâm still a cop, and itâs not vanity but I dare say Iâm a better one than he wishes to be.â
âHe doesnât wish nothing of the sort! Heâs just trouble, shit, we should be investigating him!â Mena stabbed a cube of candied yam viciously as if it had done something personally affronting to her. âAside from that, youâre gonna have to go undercover at a club of all places!â
âExcuse me? What is that suppose to mean?â Nate resisted the urge (just barely) to lick his fingers free of Sonnyâs addicting spiced South Carolina Maple rum mesquite barbecue sauce, but only because they were in public. If he was alone, he and his fingers would have gotten way more up close and personal with the remaining bottle of smoky sauce on the table.
âNate. HonâŚâ Mena began lightly, and Nate finished chewing before sighing. Here it came, Mena had that âMomâ tone going. He much preferred her teasing and wise cracks over these matronly lectures. His Auntie An was already more mother than anyone probably should have in life, he didnât need Mena to tap in now too tag team style.
âHave you even ever been to a nightclub, Lim? I mean socially?â
Perceptive. Damn her. The question pricked the hairs on the back of Nateâs neck, and he could feel his face going warm. Mena was even thinking of him as nerd. Maybe in not so many words or  imagery, but he certainly could absorb the deep maternal pity for him glowing front and center in her mind.
For once he wished her thoughts were as silent as Hyunâs wereâŚ
The truth was he really hadnât been to a nightclub before. As a teen An Qui would have killed him if he had snuck out to do anything other than schoolwork, and later in college, heâd been so busy with classes and applying to the academy, the idea of wasting time in a boozy darkened arena getting drunk while going deaf to meet people his own age hadnât seemed really necessary. He was better off alone. Life was easier. More predictable. Quiet. Â "Not really, but how hard can it be. I just have to dress up and listen to some trendy loud music.â
Mena rolled her eyes, and sipped her strawberry lemonade punch. "Sure. Right. How hard could it be for you to blend in at a club, says a man who counts moonwalking among his list of favorite dance moves of all time? Iâm sure itâs gonna be total cake. Do me a favor though, please at least google what to wear for a night out inâwell this century. I better not hear two weeks from now from vice, that you were doing deep cover while rocking those goddamn pleated Burberry Bermuda shorts and boat shoes again. We clear on that Lim?â
It was on the tip of Nateâs tongue to inform Mena, that his designer shorts cost more than a months worth of Sonnyâs meals (with overtime) and then some. Furthermore, he thought his Italian camel leather Brunello Cucinelli boat shoes were quite fetching, and they even had his initials embossed on them in silk thread!
Mena was just a philistine.
OUTSIDE UNDERGROUND VIP LOUNGE 1:34AM
Nate stood in the shadows across the street watching the backdoor of Underground VIP Lounge swing abruptly open every now and then, leaking itâs rhythmic flashes of smoky light and a low thumping beats into the cold, dark alley. He was beginning to feel like heâd picked a really bad spot to observe the comings and goings of the place. Hardly anyone came out and into the alley, those who did, were mostly barbacks in aprons, and the occasional giggly teen or two attempting to circumvent the bouncer in the front by having an older friend sneak them in via the emergency exit. Mostly already drunk, all likely underage, and certainly females, usually squeezed into short, snug, and low-cut shimmery things paint with traffic stopping colors.
Not helpful. He had long ago given up taking notes on proper club going attire, and frankly at this point was barely staying awake in his shadowy across the street perch. Ready to call his little research mission a bust Nate started to stretch the kink that had settled in his back, when the heavy metal door banged outward, spitting up two figures sandwiching a third between themâall three oblivious to their audience only meters away and continued their obscene grinding in unison.
Nate turned away feeling embarrassed by the crude scene on display. All he really wanted was peace and quiet. Tomorrow heâd simply admit defeat to Mena, thinking idly heâd just let her pick something for him to wear to his first undercover gig next weekend. The men across the street were moving funny. He lifted his head a bit, suddenly alert, his sensitive hearing picking up a recognizable accent buried under layers of inebriation.
Alexander? His nostrils, equally more sensitive than a regular humans, twitched in response to the familiar spicy woodsy citrus scent of Alexander Hyun. There were other smells too. Ones of decay, and the faint unpleasantness of soured eggs in the sun all oddly foul scents that had little to do with the trash in the alley. What the hell was Hyun even doing here tonight?! He was suppose to be keeping his nose clean! Nate peered out of the shadows over at the three in the alley, not quite sure why he felt the urgent deep sense of imminent danger. Alexander Hyun was a grown man after all, one on parole of course, but still there was nothing in his release that said he couldnât be handsy in an alleyway with strangers if thatâs what floated his boat. Certainly he was out numbered, but it wasnât like Nate hadnât been on the receiving end of his inappropriate attentions before. If fact, Nate was begining to suspect the man of being fantastically hedonistically homosexual.
Geez, he probably had a sex addiction problem along with all his other onesâŚ
That accent again. This time slurred with notes of resignation, intoxication and unwillingness. An instant later, Nateâs ears twitched hard, this time at the sounds of rending cloth and the clatter of falling buttons. Nothing he saw or heard sounded like Alexander Hyun was enjoying the company he currently kept.
Unseen there alone in the dark across from the unfortunate display, for Nate everything receded. He sensed their hunger, the way their hands pawed. They wanted to hurt Alexander. There was no true normal desire there, not for them and even less for Alexander himself. Something icy cold scraped over Nateâs chest and across rib cage at the realization. It was a sensation heâd felt before, he knew, long ago. The memory was gone as quick as it had come, and he was left devoid of all emotion. There was no fear, no dismay. There was only fire in his veins, a vicious fury blurring away all edges of his senses. Like reins of fire he saw those edges in the flames, reins that now he seized and drew back towards himâŚ
OUTSIDE UNDERGROUND VIP LOUNGE 1:40AM
Aynaet licked his lips again. Judah had said leave this one alive once they fed, but he and Bilal still planned to have much fun with their new toy boy. Alive, meant a beating heartâbeing able to walk or release his bowels in comfort again was certainly an exception to any of Judahâs silly rules. Warlocks (even tainted ones like this pathetic excuse for a witch) had managed like vermin to live through the burning times, so potentially having to use a ostomy bag someday soon, shouldnât bother this wretched excuse for a sorcerer too much.
Moan or scream it was all the same to them anywayâŚ
Movement seen out the corner of Aynaetâs eye drew him back from the banquet begging weakly for more up against the filthy brick. Not even many meters away, stood another. Small, too like their toy, but Aynaet was not deceived by itâs pale human like appearance. Itâs stink was more than apparent. Like a curse, the disgusting blights glow crawled over Aynaetâs glamoured flesh and cause both he and Bilal who only belated realized the danger, to hiss in pain. The creatureâs glow grew and vibrated with other worldliness in the grimy corridor.
âSeraphâs blood!â The demon spat it out like acid, while baring itâs fangs, all manner of appearances falling away, as it shoved the witch toy in Bilalâs direction. Since when did the Seraphnim give a shit about horny stupid warlocks was anyoneâs guess, but one lone fool winged putrid beast would not cheat him of his fun tonight. Behind the violet eyed Aâwar demon, Bilal growled as well, bristled and flung the witch away closer to the dumpsters overflowing with trash. If there was to be an angels death tonight, then the larger demon wanted all parts of it. Besides, the witch was senseless from the human poisons heâd ingested so willingly from them earlier. Like meat in a fridge, he would keep for later.
As a matter of fact, they would even dip him in sweet angelic blood for seasoningâŚ
OUTSIDE UNDERGROUND VIP LOUNGE 1:44AM
Nate gently patted the cold cheek, and brushed floppy dark curls aside with a thumb. Dark eyes, rolled upward for a moment, but Nate didnât even need see the other manâs dilated pupils to know that the door was open but no one was home. He wasnât sure if he should be relieved by that fact or appalled that Hyun was so very high.
âWhy do you insist on being so much trouble for me?â Nate grumbled. âI have half a mind to leave you here in the gutter, since you like to roll around in it so damn much!â
He wouldnât though, leave Alexander Hyun to fate. Even now, with his mind whirling in fear, revulsion and only snatches of memory from the last four or so minutes of his own lifeâterrifying images of fire and blood crowded his overburdened mind, but focusing on them created voids of empty recall that gave him no clear picture of what had happened in the alley. Nate vaguely remembered seeing Alex with two others, however right then there was only he and his somewhat limp parolee laying on his side among the industrial plastic garbage bags. No one else exited the club, but Nate couldnât bare the idea of leaving Alexander in a pile of rubbish all alone.
Heâd have to take him home.
RIVER CITY APARTMENTS 2:00AM
Alexander Hyun was heavier than he lookedâŚ
âWhy are you such a heavy damn human! Geez!â Nate huffed softly finally flipping, hoisting and settling his charge in bed. High Alexander, was apparently dead weight Alexander. It was a novel change for Nate during the first half of his race across the rooftops, with a wiggling junkie over his shoulder. Most humanâs he could practically pick up one handed, and feel not the slightest bit of fatigue. Around the second half, the struggle became real and Nate seriously considered leaving Alexander Hyun atop the Civic Opera House roof, and let him figure out his own way home.
âWhat do you eat? Cement? Steel? I wouldnât put it past you to eat car parts, just so you can get wasted on the fumes.â He didnât really expect an answer, nor did he get one. Picking up Alexanderâs legs, pulled his boots off, and put them on the bed. Hyun rewarded him by promptly leaning over and vomiting in the trashcan Nate rushed to provide. After puking up all his boozy activities from earlier in the night, his charge was pretty much comatose. Nate considered taking him to a hospital cause he was so still, but realized heâd have a lot of explaining to do even in civilian clothes.
Especially ones splattered in what looked like bloodâŚ
âThis is strike two for you with me, Mr. Hyun!â Nate murmured dryly as he walked around the rumpled bed, found the edge of the bedspread, yanked it up and folded it carefully over Alexander. Then he stood there, til almost day break, listening as the man in the bed lightly snored. He watched every breath, until they eased and slowed in restful sleep. Once he was certain Alexander was on his stomach and not his back, where knowing the muscle head fool, heâs probably drown himself in his own bile, Nate showed himself down to the first floor of the apartment that was quite similar to his own (albeit quite a bit darker and messier overall).
âHeâs sleeping now. You donât have to worry anymore if heâll come home to you. If he tries to leave again before morning make sure you bite his ankles real bad, Pepper.â Kneeling down he fed a treat to the little dog who sniffed at him with curiosity and âspokeâ in his mind of walkies, her humans weird hours and the joy of eating the smoked sausages from which her name was derived. Chuckling to himself at her simple, familiar doggish desires, Nate finally let himself out.
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