The One-Seven

Chapter 33: The White Tiger

The White Tiger Dance Club was always busy, even on a Wednesday. Despite the relatively early hour of the evening, there was a line out the door of eager men waiting to find some entertainment for the evening. Percy cut his way to the front of the line, and was pleased to see the bouncer at the door. He had a professional relationship with the man, and after pressing a couple of notes into the man's hand, Percy was let into the club.

Percy hated these kinds of clubs. The smell of cheap beer, sweat and desperation was almost overwhelming. The noise from the subwoofers thumped a painful rhythm into his brain. Clubs like this were a nightmare for people like him. All those bodies shut into an enclosed, difficult to escape space. The flashing lights and bumping music made it difficult to concentrate and it was even more challenging to keep his senses and wits about him.

Pausing to have a whispered conversation with one of the hostesses, Percy was led to the VIP section of the club, before he was settled comfortably in one of the private rooms in the back of the building. Since moving to Gotham, Percy had made an effort to make in-roads with certain populations in the city. Having not grown up in the department in the city, Percy didn't have the kinds of natural inroads with the underworld that Percy had had when he was in Metropolis. But after a couple of months and more than a little effort on his part, Percy had managed to establish a couple of relationships with some prominent members of Gotham's underworld.

Jasmine was one of those connections. Jasmine was a tall Black woman, standing only a few inches shorter than Percy himself when she had her heels on. Her long dark hair was almost always braided into an elegant weave that came to an end around the middle of her back. The door to the room opened, and Jasmine had barely taken one step into the room before she locked eyes with him. Her own brown eyes widened in terror for a moment, before she made to break for the door, but Percy was already up and moving. They had played this little song and dance at least half a dozen times since Percy had started meeting with her.

Releasing a burst of mist-magic, Percy disabled the security feeds in the room and in the blink of an eye he had a hand wrapped around her wrist while he shut the door deftly with the other. With a soft flick of the wrist, Percy locked the door and put on his best smile.

"Hey there Jasmine, long time no talk. How's your mom?"

"Let me out of here Percy, I want nothing to do with you after last time," Jasmine tried to reach around him but Percy effectively managed to lock the door.

"No need to make it sound so bad," said Percy

"Last time, I nearly got jumped by that freak in the top-hat who kept calling me Alice." Snapped Jasmine, "Do I look like that pasty white bitch to you?"

"No you do not," said Percy, pulling free a fresh stack of bills and jamming the wad into her hand, "You look like you want to pay for your mom's meds this month."

A sour expression flickered across Jasmine's face, before she grunted and strode of to the chair usually reserved for clients. Plopping down in the chair, she crossed her legs over one another and glared at him,

"Well?" She asked expectantly, "The fuck you want this time?"

"Just some information," said Percy genially,

"That's always how it starts with you," grumbled Jasmine, "Then the next thing I know, I'm being chased down an alleyway by some lunatic in a fucking top-hat who thinks he's Willy-fucking-Wonka,"

"The Mad Hatter, but good enough," said Percy with a shrug, "You hear about what happened yesterday?"

"Gonna need to be a little more specific," snarked Jasmine, "Lot's of stuff happened yesterday,"