I pull up to the place about an hour later. I feel sorry for the janitor or security or whoever was still in the building, but they will have a hell of a story to tell. I tried to find a non-destructive way to get down from the building after locking myself onto the roof but, with it being so cold out, there weren't many options. In the end, I had to tap into my demonic blood and rip the door off the hinges. Then I ran like a bat out of . . . well, I feel that this phrase loses something when applied to me. I ran like crazy down the stairs and out of the building all the while burning from the effort of using that side of me to fuel my speed. I had to look like a smoking red blaze.

Burning is the name the ‘bad kids’ I hung out with when I was younger called my power when I embraced my infernal heritage. I literally do burn when I use too much. I'm not hurt by it--it just burns my clothes away and augments my body. If I go even deeper, it has more effects on my physical appearance. I haven't done that in a long time because of the proprietor of the place I'm going into. A place called Sweet Vic’s.

Sweet Vic's brands itself as a den of beauty and pleasure. It's more or less a strip club for the things that go bump in the night. Or the day. The things that go bump, I guess. Anyway, it's not my preferred place, but that's because of the owner, not a sense of impropriety or anything. Plus, there are way worse places to meet. The building isn't tall, but it is very long. It sprawls across nearly a whole block and is one of the most well kept buildings in the area. But that’s only if you can see it. Vic’s has been many places but currently, it occupies the space where there used to be a mall. The North Towne Square mall. It was was closed in 2005 and was demolished immediately. Vic’s took this space and has been there since. To those who haven’t been invited, however, the abandoned mall stayed up until 2013 when it was then made to look like it was being demolished. I walk up to the front door, and a bouncer puts a hand up and blocks my path. He seems human, but even if he is some human, I know that's not all he is. I also know their method for checking species at that door and I hate it. He pulls a rod out of his jacket pocket and waves it in front of my face. My senses go crazy as it passes. A familiar burn starts from within and I know my demon is showing. The bouncer looks me over, nods, and flicks his head toward the door.

“You're good. No fighting inside. No soliciting the dancers for more than a personal dance and no touching unless you're asked,” he says.

I raise an eyebrow. “Does that actually happen?”

He shrugs. “Sometimes. A few have lost fingers or more. It's for your protection as well as the dancers. Just, be cool."

I nod and walk in, stifling the flames that smolder in my gut. I pay the girl at the front desk, and she smiles.

“Have a great time!” she says, more excited than the occasion calls for, but that's just me. I wonder if she actually likes her job that much?

I politely smile back and turn to walk inside through a set of black out curtains hanging from a rod. Meandering around I look out for Rocky, but can't help staring at the dancers. There's a serpent woman doing a human show. I'm not sure what I would've thought a 'snake woman doing a human show' would look like, but whatever it was, I was wrong. She's got a human 'pet' and they're doing an act, but I don't get how it could be entertaining. I think it's kind of weird, but she has a pretty big crowd watching her intensely. I also see a succubus with tail and wings on display, a mermaid in a tank half submerged and half nude, and a leopard looking woman. They are all doing different things that aren't necessarily stripping. There is at least a small crowd for each with both men and women watching. Everyone is into something, I suppose. I've only been to this side of the club, but I've been told that the other side of the building is an all male staff strip club. I wonder if they do the same thing over there, but I haven't been curious enough to go see yet. I keep glancing around and finally spot Rocky sitting in a booth in a corner of the large room. As I approach, a waitress comes to drop off his drink.

“Hey, honey,” she says when I sit down. “What can I getcha' to drink?” There’s a slight southern lilt to her speech that’s not common in the area. It makes me wonder what got her here but, I don’t ask. I give her my order, “A whiskey sour with crown royal and two cherries.” I say with a small smile. It's my favorite drink.

She smiles, nods, and walks away and I turn to Rocky. “So, Rock, what's goin' on?”

“Mikey, you shouldn't have come up to the Roost. We got rules, y'know. What were you thinkin'?”

I look him in the eyes. It's very hard to gauge the feeling or expression of a living rock. I just see the same face as when he's frozen during the daylight. “I was thinking,” I start counting on my fingers, “I didn't like getting knocked out. I didn’t like having my house trashed. I didn’t like having my co-worker nearly killed and I don’t want to go into debt fixing my house or car for someone's messed up little game,” I say, still trying to read his face.

He looks around and takes a sip of his drink. “It was nothin' personal,” he says and I put my hand up.

“If you say it was just business, I will make sure you wake up with a horse head on your stoop. C'mon, I need some information.”

He takes another drink and looks around. I notice that his eyes keep falling to the same place. I glance back without drawing attention to the motion and see a cloaked figure sitting across the bar. The hood of the cloak makes a shadow in the dark club that dips just below the nose. I can't see the face, but the jaw is definitely humanoid and covered in flesh. I look back at Rocky and gesture with my eyes. He shrugs and his attention is back on me.

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“It was though, man. He gave me an offer I couldn't refuse.”

I put my hand up again. “Rocky, I've always called you Rocky because of your mannerisms. They remind me of that bugs bunny cartoon with Mugsy and Rocky.” And I've always wondered how an ancient being like yourself settles on a seemingly Brooklyn or movie mobster accent, I think to myself. But we don't have time for that. “But this mafioso shtick is getting to me at the moment. How could he offer you something you couldn't refuse?”

“It was a day pass, Mikey. I can go out in the sun on a day of my choosing. And I'll look human, so, y'know, no pitchforks and mobs comin' after me. It was a solid deal.”

I pause at this. I've never had to be confined to only darkness. I can't imagine what that's like. The creatures that are bound to the night have it hard, I'll give them that. It is not something that I could take if it were forced on me now. I can understand why some of them go on rampages every now and again.

“And I'm sorry about your place. He said he needed muscle to get back somethin' that was stolen from him. I didn't know it was your house, not that that makes a difference, but it was an important payday. I couldn't pass it up. But I didn't kill ya. That's gotta be worth somethin'? Right?” He repeats what he said earlier today almost verbatim. I swear, this guy is made of wiseguy cliches. His heart is mostly in the right place. Although I have no idea what Gargoyle anatomy looks like. The waitress comes back over and drops off my drink.

"Anything else I can get for ya, Sugar?"

I shake my head. "No, but thanks.”

She nods and walks away. I watch for a second then turn back to him, taking a slow sip of my drink. Ah, that's good. I needed this. I look into his dark eyes and continue.

“I understand, Rocky. But I still need information. Do you have a name or anything I could use?”

He rubs his chin and it makes a grinding sound. Some flecks of stone fall into his drink and others plink off the table. “He never told me his name. I'm not sure.”

“Rock, do you actually not know? Or are you fishing for some money? Cuz, I've gotta tell you, I have no patience for that. And by patience, I mean money. I have no money. If I did, I'd have had someone else find him for me.”

Rocky chuckles under his breath. “Can't blame a guy for tryin', huh? Alright, Mikey. I got some advice for ya then--Let it go. To offer me somethin' big like that, this guy's gotta be--or gotta know--some heavy hitters. We ain't ezackly friends, but I've seen worse demons than you and I don't like seein' nobody get killed.” There's another expression I can't quite read, but if I had to guess it looks . . . Sad? His eyes flick to the same spot once more, and it seems they follow some movement. I match his gaze with my periphery and watch the figure walk away. “And I don't like the feeling that I've been watched eva since I did the job for this guy, neither.”

He sits back and crosses his arms. I have a feeling that that's all I'm going to get out of him and I sit back too, huffing out a breath. I look around while thinking of something to say. The women dancing have changed out while we were talking, and the crowds have moved around. I take a few sips, then down the rest of my drink and chew on the cherries. After a few more rounds of silence between us, I decide it's time to go.

“Well, I'm gonna go find my answers elsewhere,” I say and stand up.

He grabs my arm and looks up at me. “I'm gonna tell ya one more time, Mikey. Let this one go. You're gonna get yourself really hurt or killed.”

It's weird that he seems so intent on telling me to let it go. I can't tell if it's genuine concern, or if he's still 'on the job.' Regardless, I'm sure he knows that I'm not going to take his advice. I can't. It's not a matter of pride or anything. I've been screwed with before. That, I totally can just let go. But one of my co-workers was brought into this. These remorseless beings care nothing if they take a human life in order to accomplish something small. I hate it when uninitiated humans are caught in any kind of monster or magic activity. They can't comprehend what's going on, and they really have no defense.

I don't remember most of the time I spent burning. But I do get flashes of the last people I hurt. We never killed, and that was supposed to be the fun of it. The couple we attacked only saw our demonic forms. I remember the delight I had at my prey’s hopelessness. Of them knowing we could do anything we want, and they can't do a damn thing to stop us. We disabled their car and toyed with them like cats playing with a mouse. Leaving scars from burns and cuts, and stories that no one would believe. I shiver at the brief remembrance. Of course, some of us can be stopped by bullets and other manner of weaponry. But that's if the prey is lucky. Even then, there's a chance that their mind can break. Most human's minds are ill-equipped to deal with the supernatural. One encounter and they could have psychological complications for the rest of their life, if their aggressor lets it last that long. A lot of problems are caused by a brush with the supernatural. People know if they tell anyone, they'll either be a laughing stock or be committed. There's really no win when you have an encounter like that. But, I suppose, there are humans that do that to each other too. Sometimes the world is really messed up.

Speaking of, I should see Anna tomorrow. I think she works. I can't take another day off, and I'll need to make sure no one else was caught up in this. If the other demons involved hurt someone else I know to get to me, there will be hell to pay.

“I can't, Rock. They involved people close to me.”

He nods and lets go of my arm. “I understand that. Tell ya what, let's say I owe ya one. Anything you need, ‘cept my usual rules. I don't break those for nothin' or nobody. But only after I get my payment from that incubus. Okay?”

“Owing a demon any favor is a dangerous thing. You sure?”

He laughs outright. “You seem like an okay guy, Mike. I think I'll take my chances.”

I don't say anything. For the most part, I think I'm a good person. We'll see if I stay that way by the end of this thing. It’s hard not to look at the world through rose-colored goggles sometimes when the world hasn’t been the best to you. And if the past twenty-four hours was any indication of how this is gonna go, I’ll need some thicker skin. But maybe I can use his favor to my advantage. Like, maybe when Kai calls in his favor, I can have Rock handle it? Hmm. There may be something there. I'll put a pin in that and focus on my problem now.

I'm in this. I can’t back down and take the chance that someone I know will pay the price for knowing me. I have to find out who’s behind this and why I’m in the middle of it. The next step for me: Contact the local wizards guild and see if they can get an identity on the owner of the knife. Rocky and I shake hands, and I walk away. I'm almost at the door when I hear someone say my name.

“Hello, Mikael.” The voice makes me stop in my tracks. “I didn't expect to ever see you here.”

Uh oh.