The deal was struck when Laurent presented Apep with the card for Nikolai Armani. What a pretentious ass fake name, or Apep thought as he carefully placed the card in his jeans pocket. He would give Laruent Tess's contact, and tell what he knew of her. The rest was up to him. Apep debated getting their deal in writing, or at least an official verbal confirmation. However, he didn't want to spoil the mood, and if their lips touched the deal was sealed that way. He wanted to kiss those lips, to feel if there was any passion in them.
"Then we've waited long enough," he said, picking up his whiskey glass and draining the remainder. They'd really wasted such a nice Hookah, and so Apep resolved to bring it back with them. The whiskey would come too. This was a night for forgetting oneself. Apep pulled himself off Laurent with purpose, his leg kicking up, almost like a dancer, and swinging wildly to hit the floor. He rose, and grabbed the bottle, only then realizing how much the booze had hit him. He motioned for Laurent to follow and headed for a back area.
Laurent might be confused why Apep chose to stop in front of a painting of snakes playing poke.r, but Apep smiled at him for reassurance. The bathrooms were to the left, and the main bar was back down the hallway to the right. They were at a crossroads. Apep knocked on the wall to the painting's left. One of the snakes in the painting turned to the pair.
"Password," it hissed.
"Kumquat," Apep replied, pointing at Laurent for inclusion. The painting returned to normal, but slid open revealing a dark passageway. Once they were inside, the painting swung shut, leaving them in what looked like the basement of the apartment building their operation was situated in. Gone was the glamour of the speak easy. Here was the real club.
Red lights flooded the room, and shined on gold curtains hung from various curtain rods. Tons of comfortable furniture revealed men and women with needles in their arms, or fangs in their necks. They were already chasing the snake, as Apep sometimes called the venom high. More snake demons were here than any other part of the club, beautiful men and women providing drugs and pleasure. Apep was sure Slytheria was here somewhere, but didn't seek her out. He led Laurent past one of the gold curtains, a mattress and several pillows awaiting them.
"All of this," he said referencing the club, "and you get by far the best this club has to offer. Do you know what the best is?"
As if to make his point, his hands finally reached into Laurent's pants. The hookah was brought in by the cocktail waitress and placed on an end table near the pair. Laurent could drop the curtain, or let others see. Apep cared not which. His pretty fangs stared back white, as the Scarei's face was bathed in red.