A Hellhound in Manhattan: Part 1

Chapter 15

Loona brought Brooklyn to a little place called The Poe Toaster. The wooden sign by the door had been cheaply made, but the craftsman still put in the effort have the lettering underlined by an ornate carving of a rose.

They had to walk down a set of concrete stairs to get to the door. Keeping guard was a tall buff woman with a spiked choker and aqua-colored hair.

"What's the password?"

Loona smirked. "'Mary Shelley sent me. She says Lovecraft was a hack.'"

The woman chuckled. "You're right about the first part. Just don't let Benjamin hear you say the second part." She stepped aside. "Head on in."

Brooklyn made no objections as Loona paid the cover. Their efforts to sneak into the concert had failed, so he could let this slide.

They made their way over towards the bar and Brooklyn looked around at all the black-clad misfits chatting and dancing. This was a tad preferable to the concert as it wasn't as tightly packed.

He spotted a trio of young women at a small table together, and he blushed when he realized they were checking him out. One of them, a tawny-haired girl with pig-tails, rosy cheeks and a Jack Skellington T-shirt, even winked at him. He could get used to this.

Meanwhile Loona still felt out-of-place. She had been there before, but not on a date. While she was adjusting to being among other oddballs and passing for human, it was the strictly social setting that had her stumped.

What's more, she saw how Brooklyn was liking the attention he was getting from those three girls. She wanted to object but she looked away, an internal voice screaming at her that she was a fool to think he would like her.

They were approached by the bartender; a black woman with a lip ring and fuchsia highlights in her braids.

"What'll it be, folks?"

"Straight whiskey," Loona ordered.

The bartender gave her a suspicious look. "Let's see some ID, kiddo."

Loona groaned and rolled her eyes. "Fine. I'll just have a soda."

"Water for me," Brooklyn ordered. "I'm the designated flyer."

The bartender chuckled. "You got it, Lestat."

As they waited Loona sniffed the air. Her heightened senses picked up a myriad of rank colognes and perfumes. A whole cocktail of mints, lavenders, florals, clove and eucalyptus. She nearly gagged. These smells were fine on their own, but too much at once.

They got their drinks and took a seat at an empty booth.

Loona took her coat off and set it next to her.

Brooklyn paused. He had always found her to be attractive for a human, but it was then with her coat off that he realized that she had a lovely overall shape to her. How could she hide herself all this time?

To prevent from staring at her, he observed the spooky decor, particularly some cheap plaster gargoyles crouching up near the ceiling. Given these people's interests he wondered if he would be welcomed as his regular self.

"So, do you come here often?" he asked Loona.

"No, not really," Loona admitted. "I only just found out about it a couple days ago."

"Really? Then how did you know the password to get in?"

"It's not a real password," Loona laughed. "Apparently it's just tradition."

Brooklyn leaned in, prompting her to go on.

She took another sip of her soda. "See, this place used to be a speakeasy back during prohibition. Upstairs they used the restaurant as a front while you had to be in the know to get down here for some bourbon. Or watered-down wood varnish."