The car slowed to a stop in front of a quaint, two-story building, its brick facade and arched windows a stark contrast to the towering skyscrapers that surrounded it. It seemed almost out of place in this modern metropolis, a relic of a bygone era.
Fang, his movements swift and purposeful, stepped out of the car and offered his hand to Kev. "Here we are," he announced, a hint of excitement in his voice.
Kev took Fang's hand, a warmth spreading through him at the familiar touch. He followed the wolfman inside, Talon trailing silently behind them.
The interior of the building was surprisingly spacious, its high ceilings and polished marble floors giving it an air of grandeur. Kev's eyes scanned the walls, adorned with a collection of vibrant, abstract paintings that seemed to pulse with life. It felt more like a fine art museum than a typical auction house, its atmosphere refined and sophisticated.
Fang, his hand still clasped around Kev's, led him towards the rear of the building, where a discreet staircase descended into the lower levels. The basement, shrouded in a dim, atmospheric light, exuded a speakeasy vibe. Groups of well-dressed beastmen and beastwomen mingled, their conversations hushed and their laughter subdued. The air was thick with the scent of expensive perfume and fine tobacco, a heady mix that hinted at the exclusivity of the gathering.
Fang paused at the entrance, his keen eyes scanning the room, taking in the scene with a practiced ease. Suddenly, his expression hardened, a low growl rumbling in his chest. He stalked purposefully towards a group huddled in a dimly lit corner, his presence casting a palpable shadow over their conversation.
The group, a mix of finely dressed beastmen and beastwomen, fell silent as Fang approached. Their eyes widened in apprehension, and they quickly dispersed, leaving a solitary cheetah-man standing awkwardly in Fang's path.
Fang's hand clamped down on the cheetah-man's shoulder, spinning him around to face his imposing figure. "Maffa," Fang growled, his voice a harsh, menacing rumble, "fancy running into you here."
Maffa's spotted fur bristled, his confident demeanor faltering under Fang's intense scrutiny. He forced a smile, but his eyes betrayed his unease. "Fang," he greeted, his voice a strained purr. "What a... pleasant surprise."
Fang's growl intensified, his grip on Maffa's shoulder tightening. "The city's getting a bit too comfortable around me and mine," he hissed, his amber eyes burning with barely contained fury. "That rabbit was a stupid move, cat. A very stupid move."
Maffa's forced smile vanished, replaced by a mask of cold indifference. "I have no idea what you're talking about," he retorted, his voice a clipped purr. "But please, step back, dog. Your breath reeks of cheap whiskey."
Fang leaned in closer, his face inches from Maffa's. He burped loudly, a pungent wave of alcohol washing over the cheetahman. "Do something about it, then," he challenged, his voice a low growl.
Maffa's eyes narrowed, a flicker of anger crossing his face. But he quickly regained his composure, a resigned sigh escaping his lips. He shrugged off Fang's hand and stepped back, his movements deliberate and controlled. "Enjoy your evening, Fang," he said, his voice laced with thinly veiled contempt. "And try not to cause too much trouble. It would be a shame if you ruined the evening for everyone involved."
With that, Maffa turned and walked away, his sleek form disappearing into the crowd.
Kev, still a bit shaken by the tense encounter, turned to Fang with a questioning look. "Who was that?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Fang's expression remained grim. "One of the city councilmen," he replied, his tone laced with a hint of disgust. "Maffa. A slimy bastard if there ever was one."
Kev's eyes widened in surprise. "Should we be worried about the city enforcers showing up?" he asked, a nervous flutter in his stomach.
Fang shook his head, a confident smirk returning to his lips. "Not tonight," he assured Kev. "As a councilman, Maffa has a lot to lose from being spotted here. He won't risk his reputation by calling in the authorities."
"Why not?" Kev pressed, his curiosity piqued.
"This is a black market auction, Kev," Fang explained, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Things you can't normally get your hands on. Rare artifacts, exotic ingredients, even... certain services."
Kev's gaze swept across the room, taking in the diverse crowd of patrons. Were they all criminals, he wondered, drawn to this underground world of forbidden pleasures and illicit dealings? He reminded himself that he'd narrowly escaped arrest just the night before, his own actions blurring the lines between law-abiding citizen and rule-breaker. Yet, he felt like the jewelry, clothes and wallets that were in this room had been earned though things more consequential than a bit of weed.
Fang, his attention momentarily diverted from Kev, caught sight of Talon standing guard by the entrance. "Drinks," he barked, his voice a commanding growl.
The eagleman nodded silently and disappeared into the throng, his sharp eyes scanning the crowd as he went.
Fang turned back to Kev, a gentle smile softening his features. "Let's find you a seat," he said, leading Kev towards a cozy corner by the fireplace. Two burly beastmen, engrossed in their conversation, occupied the plush armchairs. Fang's presence, however, commanded immediate attention. A low growl rumbled in his chest, and the two men quickly vacated their seats, their eyes wide with apprehension.
Fang gestured towards the now-empty chairs. "Sit," he said to Kev, his voice a soft purr.
As Kev settled into the comfortable armchair, the warmth of the fireplace radiating against his skin, he turned to Fang with a curious smile. "Are you looking for anything specific tonight?" he asked, his gaze sweeping across the room, taking in the eclectic mix of patrons and the hushed anticipation that hung in the air.
Fang leaned back, a relaxed smile playing on his lips. "I have a few collections I'm always adding to," he admitted, "but I'm not expecting anything particularly exciting tonight. This is more for you, Kev. A chance to acquire some unique pieces for your apartment, perhaps a conversation starter or two."
Kev's eyes widened slightly. "I'll try not to spend too much," he said, a hint of concern in his voice. He was still adjusting to the concept of Fang's seemingly limitless wealth and generosity.
"Don't worry about it, Kev," he assured him, his voice a comforting purr. "I'll cut you off if the pot gets too rich."
Moments later, Talon reappeared, two crystal tumblers clutched in his talons. He placed them on the small table with a soft clink, his gaze briefly meeting Kev's before returning to his stoic surveillance of the room.
Kev lifted his glass, surprised to find it filled with a double whiskey, neat. He took a tentative sip, the fiery liquid burning a trail down his throat. He wasn't a fan of straight liquor, preferring the sweetness of his usual Cape Cod. He made a mental note to talk to Talon about it later. It seemed like a small thing, but he didn't want to risk bringing it up in front of Fang… it was Talon's first day after all. Talon, meanwhile, had positioned himself behind their chairs, his back to them, his sharp eyes scanning the crowd.
Across the fireplace, an avian couple sat nestled in a plush velvet loveseat, their presence exuding an air of wealth and sophistication. The woman, a puffin with vibrant orange and black feathers, adorned herself with a dazzling array of jewels that sparkled in the soft light. The man, a cardinal with feathers of crimson red, was equally resplendent in a silk suit that shimmered with every movement.
The puffin woman cleared her throat, drawing attention to herself. "You must be Mr. Fang," she said, her voice a refined trill that carried across the room. "I don't believe we've had the pleasure of meeting yet."
"I'm Ophelia, and this is my partner, Jasper," she continued, gesturing towards the cardinal man beside her. "We own a small jewelry outfit in the city."
Fang's eyes narrowed slightly at the mention of their profession. "Yes, I am Fang. I own a small club in the city," he replied, his voice a low rumble laced with a hint of sarcasm.
Ophelia laughed, a musical sound that echoed through the dimly lit room. "Of course, Mr. Fang," she said, her smile widening. "A small club with a big reputation."
Fang's lips curled into a pleased grin. He turned to Kev, his arm tightening slightly around the human's shoulders. "And this," he announced, his voice filled with pride, "is Kev, my personal assistant."
Kev, feeling a bit overwhelmed by the attention, offered a polite smile. "How do you do?" he responded, his voice a bit hesitant.
Jasper, his curiosity piqued, leaned forward slightly. "If you don't mind me asking, what..." He trailed off, searching for the right words to delicately inquire about Kev's species.
Kev, anticipating the question, interjected smoothly, "I'm a human."
Jasper's eyes widened in disbelief, his feathers ruffling in surprise. "Surely you jest!" he exclaimed, his voice a sharp chirp. "A human? But they're… in Dala'Bon?!"
He leaned closer, his gaze intense. "How do you even know what a human is, boy?" he demanded, his tone a mix of incredulity and suspicion.
Fang's growl cut through the air, a low, menacing rumble that silenced the room. "Are you implying my assistant is lying, Jasper?" he asked, his voice laced with a dangerous edge.
Jasper sputtered, his feathers fluffing up in alarm. He could feel the weight of Fang's presence bearing down on him, the predatory intensity in the wolfman's eyes sending a shiver down his spine.
"No, no, of course not!" he stammered, his voice a nervous chirp. "I... I just meant... it's a rare occurrence to… meet a human. A truly remarkable…. opportunity."
Ophelia, sensing the escalating tension, quickly intervened. "Jasper here is just a bit of a history buff," she explained, her voice smooth and soothing. "I believe he meant to say that it's such a pleasure to finally meet a human in person." She shot Jasper a warning glance, her eyes narrowed in disapproval.
Jasper, catching her cue, nodded eagerly. "Yes, dear," he mumbled, his feathers still ruffled. "Absolutely correct."
Fang's gaze shifted to Ophelia, a calculating glint in his eyes. "The jewelry business is a tough one, Ms. Ophelia," he remarked, his tone casual but laced with a subtle undercurrent of challenge. "Lots of red tape, regulations, permits..."
Ophelia delicately lifted her glass, her manicured fingers tracing its rim. She took a small, measured sip, her gaze never leaving Fang's. "I'm sure it's nothing compared to what the city is doing to you," she replied, her voice a cool, calculated purr.
Fang leaned forward. "And what exactly have you heard the city is doing to me?" he inquired, his tone a mix of curiosity and challenge.
Ophelia placed her drink back on the table and crossed her legs, a subtle display of confidence. She pulled out a cigarette from a jeweled case, her movements elegant and deliberate. "It's all public record, Mr. Fang," she said, lighting the cigarette with a flourish. "Building permits denied, zoning restrictions tightened, noise complaints filed at the slightest provocation..." She exhaled a plume of smoke, her eyes narrowing. "It seems like everything is public record these days, except, of course, what goes on inside your... intriguing club."
Fang leaned back in his seat, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. "You seem quite interested in my business, Ms. Ophelia," he observed, his voice a low rumble.
Ophelia met his gaze. "You're a local legend, Mr. Fang," she purred, swirling the contents of her glass. "The enigmatic wolfman who built an empire of… pleasure. The rumors surrounding you and your club are so very salacious."
She paused, taking a sip of her drink. "Though not all of them are true, it seems," she continued, her gaze flicking towards the door through which Fang had entered. "They say you never leave the mansion, and yet here you are, out on the town with a handsome young human."
Fang chuckled, a deep, throaty sound that vibrated through the room. "I guess rumors aren't part of the public record either," he retorted, his smile widening.
Ophelia grinned, her sharp teeth glinting in the dim light. "It's a difficult gray area we must all navigate, Mr. Fang," she said, her voice a soft purr. "A delicate balance between truth and fiction, between reputation and reality."
Jasper, who had been silently observing Kev throughout the conversation, finally interjected, his voice sharp and accusatory. "If you're truly a human," he challenged, his gaze fixated on Kev, "then prove it."
Fang's growl reverberated through the room, a warning rumble that silenced even the nearby conversations. His protective instincts flared, his anger simmering just beneath the surface.
Kev, sensing the tension, gently placed a hand on Fang's shoulder, a silent plea for calm. He turned to Jasper, a bemused smile playing on his lips. "And how exactly can I do that, Mr. Jasper?" he inquired, his voice a mix of amusement and challenge.
Jasper, caught off guard by Kev's composure, sputtered, his feathers ruffling in agitation. He grasped for a suitable test, his mind racing, but came up empty. "Humans... they're just a myth," he finally blurted out, his voice a weak chirp.
Ophelia's hand shot out, striking Jasper across the face with a resounding slap. "Silence, fool!" she hissed, her voice sharp and commanding.
Jasper recoiled, his hand instinctively covering his cheek. He looked down, his feathers ruffled in embarrassment.
Ophelia turned to Fang, her expression apologetic. "Forgive my partner's outburst, Mr. Fang," she said, her voice a smooth purr. "He can be a bit... overzealous at times."
She then turned her attention to Kev, her eyes sparkling with a predatory glint. "But if anyone in this city has the resources to find such a unique assistant, it would be you, Fang," she purred. "And I must say," she added, her gaze lingering on Kev's form, "he does look quite good with all that silver. Perhaps a jewel or two would further enhance his... allure."
Kev's gaze instinctively sought Fang's, silently trying to tell him to refuse. He'd never considered himself the type to adorn himself with jewelry, always preferring a more understated, grounded look. Jewels were for people who had more money than they knew what to do with and less personality than the rocks themselves. But he couldn't deny, the thought of Fang selecting something special for him, a symbol of their connection, sent a flutter of excitement through his chest.
Fang, misinterpreting Kev's glance, turned back to Ophelia with a smile. "Are you inviting us to visit your small shop, Ms. Ophelia?" he inquired
"Anytime you want to visit, Mr. Fang," she replied. "The door will always be open."
She turned to Jasper, her gaze firm. "Give him a card, dear."
Jasper, his cheeks still flushed from the earlier slap, fumbled in his pocket and produced a sleek, black card. But before he could hand it to Fang, Talon's hand shot out, snatching the card from his grasp. Without a word, the eagleman returned to his post by the velvet rope, the card tucked safely in his pocket.
"Excuse you!" Jasper squawked, his feathers ruffling in indignation. He sat back in his chair, trying to compose himself after being startled by Talon's sudden move.
A bell chimed softly, signaling the start of the auction. Ophelia rose gracefully from her seat, her silks shimmering in the dim light. "I'm sure we will see each other again soon, Mr. Fang," she said.
"Enjoy the auction, madam," he replied, his voice a low rumble.
"I intend to," she purred, before turning and joining the crowd as they filed into the auction hall, jasper following her closely.
Fang led Kev through a set of double doors into the auction hall, a spacious chamber buzzing with anticipation. The room was dimly lit, creating an air of mystery and exclusivity. Plush velvet chairs and luxurious leather couches were arranged in a semi-circle, facing a small, elevated stage where a spotlight illuminated a podium. The walls were adorned with tapestries and paintings, their rich colors and intricate details adding a touch of opulence to the otherwise understated decor. A faint scent of sandalwood and incense hung in the air, creating a calming, almost meditative atmosphere.