Husk exited the hotel, looking around under the portico. Vox was still talking to Charlie and seemed disinterested, so Husk made himself scarce quickly. If spotted, Husk would be the perfect sort of excuse for Vox to step away from Charlie and harass someone harassable. He didn't have time to deal with that brand of bullshit.

Walking as quick as he could without drawing attention, Husk looked up and down the street. No sign of Angel; he must have been in a hurry. Valentino was such an asshole that if Angel was a minute late he could very much be made to stay an extra few hours.

Sadistic piece of shit, Husk thought as he spread his wings and took off. He wasn't much for flying but he needed to catch up to Angel quick. Unfortunately he didn't quite know the way to V Tower.

He darted to-and-fro through the city sky, keeping an eye out for any flashes of white-and-pink fur, but nothing that caught his eye turned out to be Angel. By the time he found his way to the Tower he knew his friend already had to have made it there.

Husk landed out front and rubbed his left wing. He hadn't flown since they rebuilt the hotel, and that had just been some light flapping to put up the lights on the marquee. He hadn't actually given it this much effort in years and his muscles were stiff and sore. Much like his attitude.

Three steps into the lobby of V Tower and Husk found himself face to abs with a hellhound of improbable size.

"'Ey furball, you got an appointment 'ere?" the security guard said, crossing his massive arms over his equally massive chest.

"Yeah, I'm-" Husk started to say before a clipboard appeared in the hellhound's hands. A glowing purple eye on the back of it looked at Husk, its pupil narrowing into a vertical black slit as the guard flipped through some papers.

"Nope, you ain't on the list."

"You don't even know my name, you damn mutt," Husk said with a glower.

"Don't gotta. The board knows the face of everyone who has an appointment here." He flourished the board over Husk's head. The eye widened, and Husk could have sworn it was giving him a dirty look. "And you ain't got an appointment. Now I'll politely let you leave unless you let me do it not politely."

The former overlord's fingers twitched by his side. He could make mince-mutt of this hellhound without breaking a sweat, but he doubted this guy was the only line of defense. With just a quick glance around he saw several cameras pointed at him. Several visible ones.

"Fine," he said, retreating back out onto the street. If he wanted to talk to Valentino, he'd need to make an appointment. Not knowing how to make one with the corporation, he figured now was a good time to call in some old favors.

He could have found a dozen people who owed him if he visited some of his old gambling haunts, but while Angel was staying clean so was Husk. Mutually helping each other get past their hang-ups and focus on dealing with their current shit sandwiches. Avoiding poker tables cut his options down significantly but there were still a few he could call on to collect from.

Billy Bats from the south side of the pentagram was Husk's first choice. The bat demon wasn't necessarily the top-of-the-heap type but he usually had plenty of cash on hand and always knew a guy who knew a guy.

Unfortunately, it turned out Billy Bats was dead. Killed in the last extermination.

So Husk went to his second pick; Killer Jay. The damn fool had gotten into loan-sharking after Husk ruined him in a game and owed him more than he was likely to be making busting kneecaps. But he, too, was dead. A few exterminations ago.

Goddammit, I gotta go to Mimzy, Husk thought as he headed to Cannibal Town. Mimzy was his last shot without risking returning to a table, but at least he knew she was still kicking. Much to his own dissatisfaction.

Navigating Cannibal Town was relatively easy for the old cat. Alastor had him running errands here for some time before the gig at the hotel. The only thing keeping him from making a beeline to Mimzy was the place's predisposition towards showtunes giving it a preposterous amount of theaters.

Husk talked up a few people on the street and eventually found where Mimzy performed. He was worried he'd have to wait for her to finish a show but was lucky enough to arrive just as one was letting out. Making his way to the back stage, a bouncer stopped him until he recognized Husk and - more importantly - knew who he worked for.

The first thing out of Mimzy's mouth when Husk entered the room was, "I'll be right with you darling! Just put whatever you want me to sign on the table. Unless its your junk, keep that in your pants." She was busy looking at herself in the mirror as she touched up her makeup.

Grumbling, Husk slammed the door shut behind him and crossed his arms. Mimzy glanced past her reflection to see him and spun around.

"Oh, my, badness! If it ain't Husker! Coming to see lil' young me? Oh! Alastor musta sent you. You can go let him know that I'm taking care of...some loose ends, per our deal. But then I'll be free to perform at the hotel."

Husk didn't want Mimzy performing there; his bar was right by the lounge so he'd have to hear her nasally screeching all day.

"Fine, I'll pass it along," Husk agreed through clenched teeth, not wanting to antagonize the spiteful bitch, "But I came to ask you if you knew where Benny or Carpe Dayum are these days. I haven't been able to-"

"Oh, they're dead, sweetie," Mimzy said as she turned back to the mirror, "Aaaages ago. Where've you been?"

Under an alcohol and debt induced rock, was not something Husk was going to say aloud. Instead he kept asking about more old acquaintances.

"Stevie Blinks?"

"Dead."

"Archie?"

"Workin' for the sharks Alastor ate a few months ago."

"What about Ingvald? He still operatin' on the north end?"

"Ingvald? Ha!" Mimzy laughed derisively, "That poor bastard ain't even got his own soul no more."

"The hell? He ran the whole north end a few years ago."

"That was over a decade ago sweetie pie," Mimzy said, "Whatever you want from him he ain't got no more. Why you trying to track down your old poker buddies anyway?" She turned on her stool again to give Husk a searching look.

Fortunately, he was an old hand with his poker face and hid the worry and anxiety he had over Angel's predicament. "I need to get into V Tower and have a chat with Valentino. Alastor business." There was nothing like a half-truth to hide the full truth.

"The Vees, huh? Talkin' about moving up in the world, they've been doing good for themselves lately ain't they?" Her attention drifted back to her makeup routine. "Three smart noodles in that tower, takin' advantage of things after Lucifer kicked them angels outta Hell for good. Oh speaking of, how's little Nifty doing? I missed her media tour and-"

"Goddammit Mimzy if you aren't gonna be helpful I'll just go." Husk exploded, turning back to the door. He was tired of her bullshit before he'd walked into her dressing room.

"Oh, calm down Husker," the dancer said with an exaggerated roll of her eyes, "I think I can hook ya up."

"You?" Husk asked, hand on the door. "You've got an in at V Tower?" His doubt was palpable and he hoped she felt it.

"Oh hells no." Mimzy denied, waving a hand as if to dismiss the idea, "I respect Alastor dear too much to mix with that crowd. But I have a friend of a friend who knows another Overlord who can get ya in. If you can convince her."

"Who? Rosie?" Husk asked, thinking about how he could best persuade her. They'd mingled a few times when Alastor had him bartend for parties, but he didn't know the cannibal overlord well enough to be confident.

"Nahhh, Rosie's a classy lady. I'm talkin' about Carmilla Carmine."

"You know Carmilla Carmine?" That was almost as hard for Husk to believe as Mimzy having a way into V Tower directly.

"You ain't listenin' cutie. I said I have a friend of a friend. She'll get ya in." Mimzy grinned.