He wiggled his eyebrows and motioned to my clothes. Hey, I’d totally make an exception for a girl in Daisy Duck pajama pants.
Good. My eyes shoot to the crown of her head as she nods curtly. Then we agree.Shake on it? When I stick out my callused hand, she draws hers back.
Pushes an errant hair behind her ear, glancing down at her feet. We’re good.She’s not scared of me, is she? I shove my hands inside the pockets of my cargo shorts.I…yeah. I want to say no, because this whole thing is just so awkward for me, but since I’m starting to stink like a distillery, I probably should.
You already stank in the car. My lips twitch at her shocked expression.Her nose wrinkles. Gee, thanks.
I’m just fucking with you.
Okay, well… She hoists her clean clothes in the air. Lead the way, I guess.A burst of raucous laughter led my gaze to the gulak demon I had come here to see. Broad shouldered with scaly skin, bat-like wings, reptilian eyes, and a single horn in the center of his forehead, Draegan was easily the scariest looking demon here. He sat at a table with two ranc demons and a sheroc demon, pouring a luminescent, milky substance from a crystal decanter into shot glasses. He set one glass in front of each of them and barked out something I couldn’t understand. One by one, the demons at the table tossed money on top of a stack in the center of the table. Then they put their glasses to their lips and downed the contents. None but Draegan looked happy about it, which told me this was no ordinary drinking game. One of the ranc demons wobbled and caught himself on the table while the other fell over sideways and hit the floor with a thud. The sheroc’s eyes rolled back in his head a second before it hit the table.
Draegan let out a deep rumbling laugh and tipped back his own glass. He slammed it back on the table and said something to the ranc demon that hadn’t passed out yet. The ranc demon held up his hands in defeat and stumbled away from the table to collapse on one of the couches. Draegan laughed again and pulled the large pile of money toward him. He stacked it and handed it off to one of two smaller gulak demons standing behind him.This was the demon that held Greg’s life in his hands. He had to be seven feet tall and weigh over four hundred pounds. According to David, gulaks were known for their brute strength, and they were the closest the demon community had to organized crime. There wasn’t much they weren’t into and most demons feared them.
Draegan had set up his own little crime syndicate in Los Angeles, running drugs and weapons and intimidating the crap out of other demons. He threw parties to show off his power and wealth, but he also surrounded himself with security, which told me he wasn’t as strong as he liked to portray. Looking at him now in the flesh, I saw nothing more than a loud-mouthed bully who could afford to hire others to do his dirty work. I really hated bullies.What is that game they’re playing? I wondered if it might be the way I could get close to Draegan.