Again, I’m drawn by his smile that pervades both his mouth and his eyes—every part of his expression—and projects geniality I’ve never seen captured in a portrait. Not even the photographic portraits I’ve seen here in the Darkness.
“Are you okay?” a female voice asks.
I look down. The speaker’s face is similar to a human’s, as is her form, but her barbed tail flicks behind her as she looks up into my eyes. The dagger heats against my hip—a sign it could kill this female demon.
“I’m quite well,” I mutter. I point up to one of the billboards. “Who is that man?”
She laughs, as if I’ve made a huge joke. “Oh!” Her expression changes. “You really don’t know?”
“If I knew, I would not have asked.”
“Why, that’s Gabreal.”
I try to hide my shock. He is certainly not the type of demon I expected. Nor did I expect to find his image on multiple billboard advertisements. “Do you know where I might find him?”
“Like, right this minute?” She laughs again.
I frown. “It’s imperative that I speak to him.”
She brushes back her hair. Her green locks seem alive, like thousands of tiny snakes. But her hair isn’t comprised of snakes, it just moves that way. “You may be in luck.”
“Yes?” My impatience grows.
“See that billboard?” She points to one I hadn’t yet seen. It’s yet another image of Gabreal, this time wearing a bright red sweater and tan trousers and standing in front of an establishment bearing his name in gold letters high above him.
“What is that place?” I point to the sign. “Where can I find it?”
“Chill, chill.” She shakes her head. “I was just going to tell you.” A smirk paints her face as she folds her arms in a way that accentuates her bosom, ensuring my attention is drawn there.
She’s stalling. Holding me up on purpose. Trying to distract me using her sex appeal. Her shape is undeniably sensual, but the only female I’m interested in is my wife.
“That’s Gabreal’s newest club,” she says. “And you’re in luck. It’s opening day. See?” She points again to the sign. It says, ‘Grand Opening’, along with some numbers which must indicate the date and time, but don’t make sense to me.
“Gabreal is there?” I ask her. “Now?”
“Probably.” She smiles coyly, and a strand of her hair twirls around her finger as if it’s alive.
“Where do I find this club?”
Smiling, she winks and then takes hold of my arm. “Follow me.”
CHAPTER 29
Zogar
The female demon I enlisted for help chatters nonstop as we walk, asking very personal questions, which I decline to answer.
But that doesn’t stop her from sharing personal information about herself, very little of which I retain. The only details I’ve logged into memory is that the demon’s name is Kestra, she has a wife named Elanthra—but also enjoys the company of males—and she’s a Psionic demon, whatever that means.
I ignore the plethora of other details on offer—like the location of their home, the name of their pet rat, which foods and which sexual acts she most enjoys.
Why does she think I’d be interested in such inane prattle?
I’m deeply regretting my choice of guide, but she was the first demon I encountered who claimed to know where to find Gabreal.
Holding my arm, she’s moving far too slowly for my taste. At first, I thought her speed was impaired by high-heeled shoes,similar to the ones that human females wear above, but on closer inspection, her feet are shaped in a way that positions her on her toes. Her resulting slow gait swings her hips and her tail in opposition, although it’s clear that she’s also able to move her tail, independently.
After walking for over forty minutes, we arrive at the location she told me about—the building which houses Gabreal’s new club.
