Chapter 3: The Factions
Her POV
She drank, even though it was probably unwise to accept from any stranger here. The liquid immediately burned down her throat and she hissed through her teeth with an exhale. Her eyes scanned the bottle the man still held, reading ‘Whiskey’ on it. It smelled like many clients she had been with, but her pained stomach needed anything thrown down in order to keep quiet. She drank again, pulling the bag of meat to her lap and quickly scarfing two strips down.
She flicked eyes between her drink, the illuminated back wall display, and the bartender who seemed to be watching her with interest. Maybe it was her nerves, but she could almost feel the breath of everyone inside the room on her neck. A heavy empty glass dropped beside her on the bartop, and she jerked away with a start realizing there was indeed some breath on her shoulder. Her eyes flew to meet the nearly black orbs of the white haired man who looked through her.
“So, did ya whoop him again Damien?” The dirty glass disappeared behind the bar with a clang as the bartender asked.
The white face in front of her addressed the man, but never looked away from her. “I most certainly did. The old guy is losing his touchhh.” He smiled with thin lips and tilted his head slowly in a motion that sent shivers down her spine. “Who’s your delicious friend here Gabe?”
She felt every aching muscle tense in readiness to run. He was close enough to grab her, and the way he stared reminded her of the look many clients gave before they pinned her to a bed.
“Hm, can’t say I ‘member your name little darlin’. I know you told me last week.. What was it again?” She momentarily appreciated that he was trying to make it seem like they hadn’t just met.
Her eyes flicked to him, then returned to Damien’s unwavering stare as he leaned casually on the bar. She tried to think quickly. She didn’t have a name, and none of the girls ever did. She heard the various things clients called her, but those were descriptions and insults, not names. She remembered Master called her various versions of ‘my pet’ when he chose her some nights, and felt only one of those resonated. It seemed fitting too, given the name of the city she had found. “Um, it’s A-Angel”.
Gabe behind the bar laughed loud again. “Right, that’s right kitty. Angel. Sorry, head in the clouds these days.” He addressed the still staring Damien. “Anythin’ else today or are ya off?”
Damien nodded once. “Mmhm. I need a different kind of drink and I know it’s not one on tap here.” He inhaled deeply and she felt the shivers on her spine again. “I’ll certainly be seeing you around, little Angel”. He smiled white teeth at her, long sharp canines over his thin lips. She drew in a quick breath to run, but he turned and strode to the door first, giving a call and a finger waggle to the pouting horns staring at the game board. “I’ll be calling in that favour shortly Taala!”
She watched him leave and the scowl contort on the demon’s face. He pushed his chair back and stood, and she took in how tall he really was. Holy, he must be 7 feet before the horns. He glared at her from across the bar for a long minute, then silently turned and stalked out, a black forked tail like a whip following low behind him.
“Taala’s a sore loser.” Gabe commented with a chuckle.
Angel turned around to face him as she drew in steadying breaths. “Taala. Damien. You’re Gabe.” She frowned in thought. “Is Gabe short for something?”
“Yup. Name’s Gabriel Lightbringer ma’am.” He busied himself cleaning a glass and studied her a moment longer before adding “And that there was demon leader Taala Klaar having his tail whooped by the Coven’s Damien Karayan.”
“Coven?” Angel took another drink and piece of jerky.
“Yup. The vampires. Their territory is mostly limited to the hospital grounds, but they venture out for meals.” He donned a smile, but she felt it was forced. “But, you steer clear of them. They don’t ask no permissions.”
Angel shifted in her seat and gripped both hands around the glass. “Can, um, can you tell me about others in the city, sir? I’ve only ever known humans and, well, myself.” Her throat was dry, despite the whiskey and she was woefully unaccustomed to speaking.
“Sure honey! I like to think I know about most of the goings on.” He flipped a dirty rag over his shoulder. “Well, this here city is home to many factions who take refuge in the lawless streets. Keepin’ themselves to their own turfs usually prevents wars. The demon Legion reside in an old strip joint near the west side. They’ll usually not take without askin’, but weigh the deals they offer carefully as everything they do is in the name of sin.”
As he spoke, his eyes carried to the opposite side of the room where the neko lovers had finally separated and were taunting the tattooed trio in the corner with whispered words, body mimicry and laughs. One of the trio took a heavy boot step forward aggressively toward the pair when Gabriel called out, “Oi, enough! Take it outside you buncha animals!” The huge man glared and growled loudly at the neko pair, then gestured to his friends to leave the bar with him. As he passed, he silently pointed an angry finger gun at Gabe and dramatically dropped his thumb to ‘fire’ it. They stomped out and Angel let go of a breath she had been holding.
The nekos headed for the door too, when an unfazed Gabe whistled. “Hey Dai, c’mere and meet a new arrival.” The slender man stopped and smiled wide towards Angel. He slapped a bum cheek of the female as she continued out the door, giggling as she went.
His green eyes dragged over her openly. “Well hellloo there pretty kitty! Welcome to MY town! Name’s Daishkan.” He popped imaginary shirt collars and licked his lips. His haphazardly cut black hair suited his chaos energy.
“Dai’s the tomcat in charge of the Yard, Angel. His family of kit run wild in the ol’ dump.” Gabe seemed to genuinely smile towards Dai. “Besides your beef with the dogs, you guys seem to get on a’ight in the city, eh Dai?”
Dai nodded, still licking his lips while his long grey tail flicked animatedly behind him. His tattered grey shirt gave away a hairless chest, 4 pack, and defined V into dirty khaki shorts. “Yeah, we like to play with ourselves mostly!” He leaned slowly into Angel’s space for effect.
Angel cringed inwardly at the joke, then cringed outwardly as he invaded her bubble. This neko radiated sexual energy. She didn’t think he was one that would ask permissions either. He spoke quickly next though, spinning lightly on his bare heel with a giggle. “Annnyyways, I have things to torment today. Come see us when you’re ready to play Angel-cakes!”
He disappered out the door while Gabe smiled after him. “Troublemakers, all you cats.” With the bar now empty save for them, Gabe leaned forward on his elbows and continued his verbal tour. “The Yard’s just north behind me. Then to the east will be the Pack. Moody, piss-fightin’ dogs with delusions of grandeur. They used to run the city before we all descended an’ they just hate everyone now.” He paused and scratched his neck. “They’re a huge group who hate nekos the most, so just leave the whole east side well alone. On the far west side runnin’ the general store are the Syndicate. Humans. They’re vastly outnumbered, but still maintain space in town with their fancy technology an’ weapons room. They don’t like no one either.”
Angel read between the lines that Gabe wasn’t part of the humans, which surprised her. “Which group do you belong to?”
He smiled wide with dazzling white teeth. “Aw honey, I’m from the Church. We’re far out to the west near the sea. We try an’ keep the city massacres limited, heh-heh. We run this bar as neutral territory. It’s the safest place in the whole city.”
Angel nodded an understanding, in part. Did that mean he was an angel? No way, right? Silently swirling what was left of her drink, she processed her learnings.