I followed Jake to another door, this one more of an opening in the wall and unguarded. Above it was the same neon sign from outside but this one seemed brighter and the marble was shinier. This new room was the club that Jake had told me about. A huge mass of people was in the center of the room, dancing and thrashing to the music. I was startled to see a few children's souls here, clearing tables and refilling drinks. No child I'd ever reaped had come here, but I didn't know about the reapers and the deals of demons that may have bound them here.

It was very easy to distinguish the demons from the souls. The dead all had vacant expressions, as if some vital part of them was long gone. Their movements were mechanic and only ever paused long enough for a shot or two. Every now in then, I saw their eyes dart around nervously, as if they were afraid to stop partying for too long. The demons present either seemed to be working here or enjoying themselves in the VIP area. They acted more normally, but with an air of disregard for morals in their actions. Security guards lined the club and a tall, coffee skinned woman working behind the bar watched us, her gaze burning and unfaltering.

Jake took me through the throng of people, the dancers parting to make a path for us but didn't dare stop moving. Their eyes too, followed us, but their gaze was one of awe. Like I said, all souls of the dead recognize me, even if I didn't reap them. All of these souls knew who and what I was, and, despite the setting, it was refreshing not having to worry about saying the wrong thing and blowing my cover.

When a poor, older looking woman reached out a tentative hand to touch me, her eyes pleading, Jake made a low hissing sound and sent her a lethal glare, making her shrink back in fear and rejoin the others. I hated it, quickly registering that any sign of burning hope here was quickly extinguished. Jake took me over to the bar, giving the woman a nod of acknowledgment.

"What can I get you to drink?" Jake asked me, shouting over the music.

"I don't want a drink, I want to go home. Please." He looked taken aback, his eyes wide.

"It's been a long night. You must be very tired." He looked at me in concern. "How insensitive of me not to notice. Of course, I'll take you home." He called two of the security guards over, "This young lady is my guest. Take her to Hotel Ambrosia and make sure she's safely delivered to the executive wing on the top floor. They're expecting her."

"And where, pray tell, are you going?" I crossed my arms.

"I have some business to attend to, but don't worry, they'll take care of you." He sent a cold glance their way, "Their lives depend on it."

They didn't falter, escorting me out of the club, one on either side of me, roughly shoving anyone who got in the way. When we reached a different exit, I found myself on a street that seemed to twist, branch off, and bend, like catacombs. Locusts still made up a moving sky here, but through and around them, a red mist took the sky's place. Pride seemed to be one of many clubs down here. Out of one, two big men like the ones escorting me dragged a disheveled, crying girl out. She was struggling and thrashing, trying to break free but to no avail, pure terror etched into her face.

"What's up with her?"
"By the look of it, she just ran out of luck in the gaming room." One guard chuckled while the other was on the phone, telling the person on the other end where we were. I didn't know where they were taking her, but it couldn't be anywhere good. A long car pulled up near us and I was ushered inside, the guards once again on either rode for a while in silence, the looks of the people outside getting worse and more vacant, the further we moved away from the club district.

Eventually, we came to a towering building, at least twenty stories high. The inside was designed like fancy resorts, with the rooms all looked down on the lobby. The staff were all in crisp clean uniforms and once again, I found everyone openly staring at me. This made me wonder who, if anyone, Jake actually told about my arrival. There was something...almost feral, about the patrons there, and I could tell that while not all of them were higher ups, they were all demons. Great.

"Welcome to the Ambrosia." Said the woman behind the desk, her eyes reminding me of a shark's. "We've been expecting you. You're rooms are ready, so please make yourself at home." She slid a key card across the counter.

"I'm sorry, there's just one problem..."

"Oh, what's that?" She looked confused.

"You see...I, am an angel...and angels, aren't 'at home', in Hell. So, I won't be staying here."

Without warning, My wings snapped open, pushing the guards away with me when they were hit. "See?" I pointed to the wings individually, talking to her in a simple tone as if to a child, "Angel. So instead of the key card to a room, can I get a way out of here? Thanks."

"I...I'm sorry Miss Church, but I'm not authorized to do that." She stuttered, caught off guard. "Mr. Thorn was very clear. We aren't to let you leave the hotel without his say so and that upon your arrival, you go straight to your room. And you know how demon prince's can be."

"I'm sorry...'prince'?" I shook my head confused, but the receptionist only smirked as I felt something jabbed into my neck, making my eyes roll to the back of my head as the tile floor came up to meet me.