Nightside 02 - Agents of Light and Darkness

tall and blonde, all legs and high tits, every inch the Aryan ideal. She wore the same scruffy outfit and bright tribal colors as the two at the door, right down to the fake horns on her head. She came to a halt before me, smiling coldly with blue lips to show off her pointed teeth. Her eyes were black on black. She had to know Suzie was covering her with the shotgun, but she showed no signs of caring.
    “What are you doing back here, Taylor? I thought we made it very clear after your last visit that you were never to darken our doors again.”
    “Just visiting,” I said calmly. “Seeing how the other five per cent lives. I love what you’ve done with this place. Very atmospheric. Just the ticket, if you want to play at being damned for a while. But then, you’d know all about that, wouldn’t you?”
    “You don’t belong here,” said the female Demon. “Either of you. Not your kind of scene, is it?”
    Suzie sniffed loudly, entirely unmoved by the sweaty suffering going on around her. She didn’t care much about other people’s lives at the best of times. And I knew better than to show any signs of condemnation or compassion. The Demon would only have seen it as a sign of weakness. I’ve never had any time for emotional excesses. I can’t afford to be vulnerable, or give up any part of my self-control. Only rigid self-discipline has kept me alive in the Nightside. It keeps me one step ahead of the forces that have been trying to kill me ever since I was a small child.
    I felt almost wistful, watching the happy S&M freaks at their play. Must be nice to be able to pretend that you’re in danger, while still being absolutely safe. Their various practices didn’t upset or disturb me. You learn tolerance early in the Nightside. You can’t keep on being outraged all the time. It wears you out.
    “What do you want , Taylor?”
    I smiled pleasantly at the female Demon. “I want to see Mr. Bones and Mr. Blood. I’m here on business. And the sooner they agree to see me, the sooner I can get my business over with, and Suzie and I can be on our way. Keep us waiting around, and we’re bound to find some trouble to get into. We’re already freaking out some of your customers. They came here for the illusion of danger, not the real thing.”
    The female Demon looked around quickly. A few of the bright young things were already drifting towards the door, shooting uneasy glances at Suzie. The blonde Demon snarled and headed for the winding metal steps that led up to the next floor. Suzie and I followed after her, sticking close as we passed through the merry throng. Someone pinched my ass. They wouldn’t have dared pinch Suzie’s. Out of the corners of my eyes, I could see other Demon Lordz working their way through the crowd to join us. There seemed to be quite a few of them.
    The steps led up to a private office that took up the whole of the next floor. Another steel door sealed the office off from the partying below. The female Demon hammered on the door with her fist, while glaring into the lens of an overhead security camera. More Demon Lordz were climbing the steps, cutting off our retreat. Not that I had any intention of retreating until I’d got what I wanted. Suzie was looking out over the company below. Her upper lip curled briefly.
    “You don’t approve?” I said quietly.
    “Amateur night,” Suzie said dismissively. “I take pain seriously.”
    There were any number of ways I could have pursued that remark, but I chose not to follow any of them. Sometimes, that’s what friends are for. I looked down the steps, and a dozen Demonz glared back at me. I gave them my best I know something you don’t smile. They didn’t seem particularly impressed. The door finally opened, and the female Demon led us into the private office.
    The noise shut off abruptly as the door closed behind the last of the Demon Lordz. We could have been on another planet. Excellent soundproofing, though whether magical or high-tech wasn’t immediately apparent. The whole floor had been converted into one very comfortable meeting place, stuffed with every kind of luxury and indulgence imaginable. Chairs so comfortable that Rip Van Winkle would never have woken up if he’d dozed off in one of them. A massive drinks cabinet, with every potable in the world, plus a few from stranger places. Winter wine, wormwood brandy, crème de Tartarus. Bowls on low tables, full of multi-colored pills and assorted powders. A dozen large