Chapter 51

What better way to torture the scum of the Earth than trapping them with only their own mind to keep them company?

“The employee turnover is going to start the rumor mill.” I sat on a stool a few feet away from Ezequiel, and Sitri slid a glass of something pink and fruity toward me.

“You worry too much,” the Watcher said, not at all putting my worry at ease. “This industry is full of fair-weathers who’ll neither call nor show up for their shift for the opportunity to follow the latest pop singer on tour. That’s the beauty of Los Angeles.”

The Deacon was more than just a nightclub and investment. It was where, on any day of the week, desperate souls could be harvested. People clambered for just one moment of happiness and freedom on the dance floor. For the chance to meet a stranger for a one-time tryst to recount at parties.

The nightclub was also a place for the princes of Hell to converse on an even field.

Yes, Sitri was the owner and main operator, but it was one of the last demon