Feeling the call of the skies, the creature rushed away from the chemical-scented rooms of the building and toward the bright night. Once again breaking through a door, it finally reach the outside.
It only stopped for a moment to muse at the light pouring from the full
moon and then continued on its hunt. It was hungry. But then again, werewolves
were rarely anything else.
"Anything yet?" Giles asked, searching his shelves for a particular book.
"No, nothing," said Wesley with a sigh. He took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose, a gesture mildly reminiscent of his research companion. "Though it's hard to find something when you're not sure what you're looking for."
"Ah ha!" said Giles, apparently having found what he was looking for. He pulled a large dusty book off the shelf: Demon Lore in Early America.
"Have you got something?" asked Wesley.
"Maybe," replied the other. He started flipping pages, mainly looking at pictures. Finally, he stopped on a page and pointed at it with a satisfied smile.
Wesley leaned over to see what Giles had discovered. "Bhijah demon," he read from the caption below the drawing. "Nearly extinct species - cunning and ruthless."
"The only problem is," Giles started, "I heard some years back that the last of this species was killed in an altercation with a powerful sorceress. I don't see how Tara could-"
"Wait!" interrupted Wesley. "That's it! Do you have the companion to this volume - Contemporary American Demon Lore?"
"Yes, of course." He headed back to his bookshelf.
"Get it," said Wesley. "Our answer will be in there."
Glancing around him, he had to blink a few times to make sure he wasn't dreaming. Sure, the Bronze was a happenin' place, but he certainly hadn't expected to be there tonight.
Sauntering toward the stage, he noticed a large man arguing with one of the stage hands.
"You can't be up here, man," said the worker, showing the other man his way off the stage.
Recognizing the big guy, the youth walked toward him, laughing to himself at the confused look on the older one's face, despite having similar feelings himself.
"What's going on?" growled the elder once he noticed the other.
The young man smirked. "Hell if I know," he said. "But it's too crowded in here and I'm hungry."
The tall one nodded and the two went to hang out in the alley next to
the club, waiting for the next person who was "lucky" enough to come out
by himself.