Some time later, after Rebecca had cleared their plates, Horns lumbered over to their table, a relieved smile spreading across his face. He slid into the seat opposite Kev and Fang, his massive frame dwarfing the plush booth.
"Evening, boss," Horns greeted Fang with a cheerful nod. He then turned to Kev, his smile widening. "Kev, my friend, good to see you're keeping him on a tight leash."
He pulled out his trusty pouch and quickly rolled a joint, the familiar scent of the herb mingling with the smoky atmosphere of the club. He lit it, taking a long, satisfying drag.
"You really gave us a good scare last night, Fang," Horns remarked, his voice a low rumble. "We thought you'd lost it and gone after those city enforcers."
Fang let out a hearty laugh, his chest rumbling with amusement. "I wouldn't do something crazy like that, Horns," he said, his voice filled with mock indignation.
Horns took a long drag from his joint, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Of course you wouldn't, boss," he replied, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Except for that time when..."
Fang's laughter abruptly ceased, replaced by a low growl. "Totally different situation, Horns," he interrupted, his voice sharp. "Don't bring up the past."
Kev's curiosity was piqued. "What happened?" he asked, his eyes wide with intrigue.
Horns just laughed, exhaling a cloud of smoke. "Guess Fang will have to tell you himself," he said, a playful smirk on his face.
Fang shot Horns a warning glare, his ears flattening against his head. "Drop it, Horns," he growled, his voice low and menacing.
He turned to Kev, his expression softening slightly. "It's nothing to worry about, Kev," he assured him. "Just an old story, best left forgotten."
He cleared his throat, steering the conversation back on track. "So, Horns," he said, his tone businesslike, "how did the night go? Any issues I should know about?"
Horns leaned back into the plush booth, a relieved smile spreading across his face. "The night itself was smooth sailing, boss," he reported, a hint of amusement in his voice. "No major incidents, no unruly guests, no unexpected surprises. Just the usual hustle and bustle of a busy night."
He paused, his smile fading slightly. "However," he continued, his tone turning more serious, "things got a bit chaotic after closing time. When you didn't show up for your usual rounds, we started to worry. We ended up searching the entire club, top to bottom, but there was no sign of you."
He took a long drag from his joint, exhaling a cloud of smoke. "A lot of the staff stayed an extra hour, searching every nook and cranny. We were all worried sick…."
He paused, his gaze meeting Fang's. "It wasn't until Kev mentioned you were sleeping in his room that we finally breathed a sigh of relief." He chuckled softly. "You really had us going there for a while, boss."
A flicker of embarrassment crossed Fang's face, but he quickly masked it with a nonchalant shrug. "Well," he said, his voice a low rumble, "it seems my absence caused a bit of a stir."
He cleared his throat, his gaze shifting to the bustling crowd. "We should treat everyone who stayed late last night to a free meal," he declared, his tone decisive. "Go tell Reepia… And apologize for dumping this on her at the last minute."
Horns, a relieved smile spreading across his face, nodded eagerly. "Will do, boss," he replied, rising from his seat. "I'm sure she'll appreciate the gesture." He turned to Kev with a wink. "See? The wolf is always in a good mood after a drink and a meal."
With a final chuckle, Horns headed towards the kitchen, leaving Kev and Fang alone once more.
"That was nice of you, Fang," Kev remarked, his voice filled with admiration. "I hope Reepia doesn't mind. It sounds like it's already going to be a busy night."
Fang's lips curled into a fond smile. "Reepia is a true chef, Kev," he said, his voice softening. "She shows her love by making food for people. It's her way of expressing care and appreciation."
Kev nodded, recalling the unexpected cup of coffee Reepia had brought him that morning. "She's... unique," he admitted. "But I think she's nice, once you get past the gruff exterior."
"How long have you known her?" Kev asked, curious about the history between Fang and the head chef.
Fang's gaze drifted towards the kitchen, a wistful look in his eyes. "Since I was a young man," he replied, his voice a low rumble. "She's been a part of my family for as long as I can remember."
An hour passed in comfortable silence, punctuated by the occasional clink of glasses and the murmur of conversation from the surrounding booths. Rebecca, her feline grace unwavering even in the bustling bar, placed fresh drinks on their table, a polite smile on her face. Fang, a toothpick removing the remnants of his meal, leaned back in his seat, a contented sigh escaping his lips.
Horns reappeared, a triumphant grin spreading across his face. "The staff has been notified, boss," he announced, his voice booming through the VIP section. "There will be a free meal at the end of their shifts." He chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound. "Reepia cussed me out for a good five minutes before finally asking what the menu should be."
Fang laughed, a warmth in his eyes. "That's Reepia for you," he said, shaking his head in amusement. "Leave the menu to her. She'll make sure to use our supplies well."
Horns leaned back, his gaze shifting between Fang and Kev. "So, boss," he inquired, a mischievous glint in his eyes, "any plans for the night?"
Fang's arm tightened around Kev's shoulders, pulling him closer. "I was thinking of taking Kev out shopping again," he replied, his voice a low rumble. "But perhaps that can wait for another night.."
He turned to Kev, his gaze filled with a gentle warmth. "Is there anything you'd like to do tonight, Kev?" he asked, his voice soft and inviting.
Kev's eyes lit up, a spark of excitement igniting within him. "I found a game room earlier," he said, his voice filled with enthusiasm. "The one with the pool tables. Would you like to play a round or two?"
Fang shifted in his seat, a flicker of hesitation crossing his face. He hadn't played pool in years, and the thought of potentially embarrassing himself in front of Kev made him uneasy.
Horns, ever the instigator, seized the opportunity to tease his boss. "Come on, boss," he urged, a wide grin spreading across his face. "It's the perfect chance to come out of retirement. Show the kid how it's done."
"Shut it, moose," Fang grumbled, though a hint of amusement played on his lips. He turned to Kev. "If you want to play, Kev, I'll come watch. Maybe even offer a few pointers."
Kev's smile widened. "Sure I'd like that."
As they stood up, Horns chuckled. "Have fun, you two," he said, a knowing glint in his eyes. "And don't break anything."
Fang nodded at Twitch and Skippy, the bouncers stationed at the entrance to the VIP section. "Keep an eye on things," he instructed, his voice a low rumble. "We'll be back in a bit."
With a final glance at the bustling barroom, Kev followed Fang towards the game room, a sense of anticipation building within him. He hadn't realized how much he'd missed the simple pleasures of a friendly competition, the thrill of the game, the camaraderie of shared laughter. And with Fang by his side, the experience promised to be even more enjoyable.
The pool hall, a stark contrast to the raucous barroom, was bathed in a serene quietude, broken only by the rhythmic click-clack of billiard balls and the occasional murmur of conversation. The soft glow of the chandeliers cast long shadows across the green felt of the tables, creating an intimate and inviting atmosphere.
A handful of patrons, perhaps fifteen or so, were scattered throughout the room, some engrossed in intense matches, others nursing drinks and observing the games with quiet interest. Small groups of onlookers huddled around the tables, their whispers and hushed laughter creating a subtle buzz of excitement. Kev could hear snippets of their conversations, bets being placed and strategies debated, adding an extra layer of tension to the already competitive atmosphere.
As Fang and Kev entered the pool hall, a few of the beastmen, recognizing the club's owner, quickly excused themselves and vacated the room. It was a testament to Fang's authority, his presence commanding respect and a hint of apprehension, even in this seemingly relaxed setting.
Kev wandered over to the unoccupied table and leaned against it, observing the ongoing game. A meerkat, surprisingly agile despite his small stature, was systematically dismantling a lanky llama at a game of eight-ball. The llama, his long neck craning awkwardly over the table, seemed flustered and outmatched, his shots growing increasingly erratic with each missed pocket.
The meerkat sank the final eight ball with a triumphant flourish, a smug grin spreading across his face. The llama, defeated and dejected, reluctantly handed over a small stack of bills, his ears drooping in disappointment.
Glancing up, the llama noticed Fang and Kev standing nearby. The meerkat, sensing the shift in atmosphere, followed his gaze and quickly excused himself, disappearing out to the club with his winnings.
The llama man, his demeanor a mix of nervousness and curiosity, approached Fang and Kev. "Good evening, you must be Mr. Fang," he greeted, bowing his head respectfully. "And wha…who is this?" He gestured towards Kev, his eyes filled with a curious glint.
Kev, growing weary of the constant questioning about his species, sighed. "Human," he replied, his voice a bit flat. "My name's Kev."
The llama blinked, his long eyelashes fluttering. "Human?" he echoed, tilting his head slightly. "Never heard of it." He paused, a playful smile tugging at his lips. "Would either of you care for a game?"
"I'm a bit rusty," Kev admitted with a sheepish grin, "but I'll give it a shot."
Fang, sensing Kev's hesitation, offered a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, Kev," he said, his voice a low rumble. "Just have fun."
He moved to a nearby table, leaning against it with a casual air, but his eyes remained fixed on the llama, a subtle intensity in his gaze.
The llama, seemingly oblivious to Fang's scrutiny, chuckled good-naturedly. "I'm not very good either," he claimed, his long neck bobbing slightly. "My name's Pedro, by the way."
He expertly racked the balls, his slender fingers moving with surprising dexterity. "Ready when you are," he said, offering Kev the first break.
Kev took a deep breath, chalked his cue, and lined up his shot. The balls scattered across the felt with a satisfying crack, the game officially underway.
The game progressed at a leisurely pace, Kev and Pedro trading shots, their skills evenly matched. Despite his initial self-deprecation, Kev found himself sinking balls with surprising accuracy, his earlier rustiness fading with each successful pocket. Pedro, though seemingly less skilled, was a gracious opponent, his good-natured laughter filling the quiet pool hall.
After a series of close calls and near-misses, Kev finally sank the eight ball, a triumphant grin spreading across his face. He glanced over at Fang, who returned his smile with a proud nod.
Pedro, unfazed by his defeat, quickly racked the balls again. "Another game?" he asked, his voice filled with enthusiasm.
Kev, enjoying the friendly competition and the distraction from his worries, readily agreed. "Sure," he replied. "Its been a while since I've been able to play pool."
Pedro's smile widened, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Want to make it a bit more... interesting?" he suggested, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "A little wager, perhaps? Let's say... twenty dollars?"
Kev hesitated, unsure if he wanted to introduce stakes into their friendly game. "Let's just play for fun," he suggested, glancing at Fang for support.
But Fang interjected. "Twenty dollars it is," his voice a confident rumble. "That's not very much, is it?"
Pedro shrugged, his long neck swaying slightly. "It's just a friendly game," he agreed, "enough to buy a drink afterward."
Fang grinned, a predatory glint in his eyes. "I'll take that bet," he said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a crisp twenty-dollar bill.
Feeling a mix of excitement and apprehension, Kev took his position at the table. He felt Fang watching him, his expectations high. Kev took a deep breath, chalked his cue, and focused on the game.
The second game was even closer than the first, with both Kev and Pedro displaying impressive shots and strategic maneuvers. Kev, determined to prove his worth to Fang, pushed himself to his limits, his focus unwavering. Finally, after a tense final shot, he sank the eight ball, a triumphant smile spreading across his face.
Pedro, though disappointed, handed Kev the twenty-dollar bill with a good-natured smile. "Good game," he said, extending a hand for a friendly shake. "One more?"
Kev, feeling a surge of confidence after his consecutive wins, readily agreed. "Sure," he replied, his grin mirroring Pedro's. "I'm having a good time."