Seymour pulled out into traffic when he could, asking, “So, where the hell am I goin’?”
Sariel gave him directions, leading them to a bustling part of the city packed full of restaurants, fancy boutiques, and lush flowering bushes jammed along the crowded sidewalk. There was even an art gallery with a sign advertising a sit and sip painting class. Moving a single block took several minutes due to the heavy foot traffic zipping back and forth, and it wasn’t even the damn weekend.
The buildings here were a mix of towering plain brick boxes with smaller, more eclectically styled construction crammed in between. Some had elaborate facades that reminded Seymour of Greek temples, a few had rooftop seating with big fancy balconies, and one in particular had all of the above plus a paint job Seymour could only assume was the result of a rainbow exploding.
Considering the row of various Pride flags framing the doorway, Seymour was pretty sure this was the right place before he ever saw the pink neon sign in the window.
“This is it, huh?” Seymour could hear the bass thumping away as they crawled by.
“Yes.” Sariel pointed to the next block. “There is a parking deck up ahead.”
“Yeah. Doesn’t look like we’re gonna find shit out here.”
“Why would we?—“
“Parking. We will not find parking out here.”
After securing a spot on the third level of the parking deck, Seymour urged Day to ride up on his shoulder as he led them down to the bar. As they got closer, he took Sariel’s hand.
Sariel smiled, but it faded quickly. “Once we are inside, I…”
“What?” Seymour bumped their shoulders together. “Afraid some monster in here is gonna run back to Mr. Heiss and fuckin’ tattle?”
“Yes. That is exactly what I am afraid of.”
“Well.” Seymour gave Sariel’s hand a firm squeeze. “If he says shit, we’re just tryin’ to blend in.”
Day meowed curiously. “Mr. Heiss is a demon?”
“Yes. He is my master.”
Day frowned. “And he wouldn’t want you to be with Seymour?”
“No.” Sariel shook his head. “I am afraid the situation is complicated.” He glanced up as the front of the club approached. “And perhaps not one we should discuss?—”
“Can I eat him?”
“Day,no,” Seymour chided.
“Technically, she might be able to,” Sariel mused. “In terms of physical ability?—”
“See?” Day purred. “Icaneat him.”
“Oh my fuckin’ God.” Seymour snorted out a laugh. “No eatin’ nobody for the immediate future, okay? We gotta behave. We gotta be cool. We gotta stick to the plan.”
Sariel blinked in surprise. “We have a plan?”
“Yup. We go in there, get into the sneaky monster part, and, uh… Yeah.”
“That is not a very good plan.”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m workin’ on it!”
And by that, Seymour meant he had absolutely no earthly idea as to what the fuck he was doing. He’d spent the entire day running over hell’s half-acre, juggling one monster nightmare for another, while trying to navigate a potential new romance and a sweet kitty cat monster with serious abandonment issues.
Fuck, he needed a drink or ten.
They stepped into the lobby of the club, halted by a large bouncer with glittery eyeshadow who was no doubt standing there to check their ID.
