Talon rushed forward, a black-and-white blur of protective instinct, his wings half-unfurled, a guttural hiss tearing from his beak. He was a predator intercepting a threat. But then, halfway across the room, he skidded to a halt, his talons scratching faintly on the polished wood floor.
Kev peeked his head around the incensed eagle. A small gecko-man housekeeper stood by the pool table, his arms held up defensively, a dust rag clutched in one trembling hand. He wore the standard, crisp housekeeping uniform, but it was slightly too large for his slender, reptilian frame. His large, golden eyes were wide with terror.
Kev was just about to tell Talon to stop, but Talon's own rasp cut him off.
"It is you," Talon said, his feathers slowly settling.
The gecko opened one of his eyes and squeaked, "It's me?"
"I am sorry for scaring you," Talon said. "I did not know you worked for Madam Cindy when we first met."
The gecko lowered his arms and laughed nervously. "Did... did we meet each other?"
"Of course we did," Talon said, his tone matter-of-fact. "I held you up against that wall." He gestured towards the flickering oil lamp on the wall next to the bookcase.
Kev grinned and stood next to Talon. The eagle really was the king of introductions. He cleared his throat and said, "Hey there. Did we interrupt your work again?"
The gecko shook his head quickly. "No, Mr. Kev. I was sent to fetch you."
Kev looked at Talon and then back at the cleaner. "Did something happen?" Kev's stomach dropped. Had Fang woken up and still been angry?
The gecko turned and opened the door. "Mr. Max wants you at the entrance," he said. "He says it's urgent."
Kev gave Talon another glance before quickly following the gecko out of the room.
The east wing hallway, even in the afternoon, was a place of quiet, sophisticated shadow. Sunlight struggled to penetrate the deep-set windows, leaving the plush carpets and dark, wood-paneled walls in a state of perpetual twilight. The only real light came from the ornate, flickering oil lamps, casting a warm, golden glow that made the oil paintings of stern-looking, long-dead beastmen seem to watch them as they passed. The air was still and smelled of old books and fine tobacco.
"Does it have to do with the room upstairs?" Kev asked, finally catching up to the cleaner. "The off-limits one? Across from Fang's room?"
The gecko shook his head, his small feet pattering quickly on the carpet. "I don't know. That's not my floor."
"It seems kind of important," Kev said, passing the public billiards room. "Do you know anything about it?"
The gecko stopped at the end of the east hall, just before the grand staircase and the main entrance. "I'm not allowed up there. Second floor is for the veterans."
Kev pushed. "Really? Anything at all? Even a rumor?"
The gecko looked between Talon and Kev and sighed before turning back to face the east wing. "Heard it belongs to an old club member who was... fired."
Kev frowned. The gecko turned and walked away, his small, green form disappearing back into the shadowy corridor, his earlier nervousness returning as if he'd said too much. The rumors of the mystery room all seemed pretty dark, and they all pointed towards tragedy, something from Fang's past that he had buried.
"Why would someone who was fired need a room?" Talon said, shaking his head.
Kev just shrugged as he passed the literal eagle and walked towards the entrance. He was curious about what Max might want. However, just as he was thinking about what could be "urgent," the fox-man opened the front door and walked right past him.
"If you can make work for me, I can make work for you," Max laughed and clapped a hand on Kev's shoulder. "He's outside. I got too much other stuff to do than deal with this."
"What? Who?" Kev turned, but Max was already walking towards the stairs.
"Just wake up Fang if you can't handle it!" Max waved and jogged up the stairs.
Kev turned to the entrance doors. He couldn't wake Fang up. The idea of it was crazy. The big dinner meeting tonight was far too important, and the wolf needed sleep, especially after last night.
"Welp, let's see who our guest is," Kev said, walking forward and pulling open the heavy door.
The afternoon sunlight streamed in, forcing Kev to squint. Warlock was standing casually by the valet podium, his sleek, dark suit looking impeccable even in the harsh light. He was twirling a small, silver coin between his fingers with a practiced ease, his toothy grin fixed on something only he could see. A few steps down, Bruno, the massive brown bear, stood at ease, his arms crossed over his vested chest. As Kev opened the door, Bruno turned, his small, intelligent eyes landing on the human.
Kev put his arm out to his side, predicting Talon trying to position himself between him and the otter with the sharp grin. Kev looked over at Talon and shook his head.
"Mr. Warlock," Kev said, his voice as calm and steady as he could make it, hoping his greeting would put his bodyguard at ease. "It's a surprise to see you. You're a bit early for dinner."
Warlock smiled and put his arms out wide. "Oh, Mr. Kev! It is wonderful to see you today! The servant earlier said someone would come greet me, but I did not expect it to be someone so... vital... to Mr. Fang."
"Well, it's good to see you too," Kev smiled politely, trying to ignore Bruno stiffly walking over to stand just behind Warlock. "But if I may ask, why are you here?"
"Oh, we have big plans for the club!" Warlock walked forward and stepped up to the entrance. "I wanted to swing by and make sure things were peaceful during the day."
Kev raised an eyebrow. "I don't know how to say this politely, but..."
"Oh, come on, Mr. Kev, out with it!" Warlock said. "Lay it right on me."
Kev looked down and said, "Fang said you were just a middleman."
"Ha ha!" Warlock bellowed with laughter, holding his stomach. "He is such a riot! He really said that?"
Kev sighed a breath of relief, glad he had only amused the volatile otter. "Sorry, but... are you not a middleman?"
Warlock wiped a tear away from his eye. "Fang told you I was just the man in the middle of him and the Don? I guess being second-in-command is a bit like being a middleman."
Kev's eyes widened. This crazy otter was the second-in-command of the Mafia. He was talking to an actual gangster and inviting him into the off-hours medieval erotic theme park... Maybe he shouldn't have asked Fang to take him off the payroll.
Kev shook his head. This was his chance. He could prove that he wasn't a pet, that he could really help around the club. Warlock had basically just asked for a tour. That should be easy enough. Kev took a deep breath. There was no reason to wake Fang up for something this simple.
"If I had known, I wouldn't have kept you waiting," Kev said, quickly putting a smile back on. "Come on in, and I can show you around a bit. After all, you did help out Fang last night."
Kev pushed the door open and motioned for Warlock to pass. However, before the otter could pass, Talon jumped inside and held the door. "Mr. Kev, let me get that for you."
Warlock looked between Kev and Talon before entering. "Who's this one?" Warlock asked, his excited voice beginning to echo a bit as he walked into the grand entryway of the club.
Kev followed, giving a quick nod to Talon as he passed. "This is my bodyguard, Talon. He was hired after our last official meeting."
"Oh, meetings are more fun when they aren't official." Warlock inspected a vase on a small table in the entryway before running his hand over the armrest of one of the chairs. "And it would be a shame if we called these things 'meetings' now. We're family, and it makes it sound like work."
"I know you said the same thing last night," Kev said, hoping he wouldn't jinx anything, "but isn't tonight's meet... dinner... to decide if we are in?"
"There's no need for you to worry about that," Warlock stood and looked over at Kev, seemingly bored of the entryway now. "Let's see this place."
Kev led Warlock towards the main bar first, feeling a bit out of his depths as Warlock waved and tried to greet all the cleaners they passed. Also, having Bruno's silent bulk behind them made him feel small. Even if Talon was right next to the bear, the bear's shadow was much bigger.
"The cleaners," Warlock leaned towards Kev, "has Fang ripped out all of their tongues?"
Kev forced himself not to look over at the wicked otter. "No. They are very professional and... discreet."
Kev stepped back into the barroom. Once again, it looked a bit different now. The long shadows were gone, the early afternoon sun brightening the vast room. "This is the bar, of course," Kev said lamely, walking in and gesturing around. "I'm sure you were here."
Warlock nodded, and he stepped towards the bar. Taking a long look at the impressive selection, he snapped his fingers. "Bruno, make us something to drink while we walk."
The brown bear didn't say anything. He simply padded around the bar and ran a massive paw over the rows of bottles.
"What kind of drink would you like?" Warlock asked. "He pours a passable Cherry Sucker Punch."
"I, uh, usually don't drink so early," Kev said, rubbing the back of his head. Was it really okay for Bruno to be behind the bar? That cash register was completely unlocked...
"Come on," Warlock said, hopping onto one of the barstools and spinning around. "Are you worried about getting drunk before dinner?"
Kev shook his head, but Warlock had already turned, holding two fingers up. "Bruno, two. Make 'em singles. No ice for me."
Bruno moved with a surprising, economical grace for a bear his size. His large paws, which looked like they could crush a skull, deftly selected a bottle of cherry schnapps and two small, ornate glasses. He poured a precise, single shot into each, the red liquid catching the afternoon light. It was a simple task, executed with a silent, professional efficiency.
Warlock snagged the glasses from Bruno and turned, passing one to Kev. He then walked out onto the empty dance floor. After taking a sip of his drink, he held it high and closed his eyes. Then he began to spin, slowly at first, then faster, his sleek, dark suit a blur against the polished wood. He moved with a liquid, almost serpentine grace, utterly silent, a solitary figure lost in a dance only he could hear.
"It's so much bigger in here than I remember," the otter finally said, his spinning slowing to a graceful stop. "To think a space like this could still exist in the city."
"Is this your second time here?" Kev asked, a little unnerved by Warlock's chaotic dervish dance.
"It is so hard to get on the list," Warlock sighed, stepping off the dance floor and back towards Kev. "The interview process is also quite... invasive." He took a sip and winked at Kev. "That Dr. Lanon is a shrewd one."
Kev took a sip of the sweet cherry drink. It reminded him of cough medicine. "Yes. Lanon asks very intrusive questions."