Angel - City of Fear

Finding Big Daddy

The first place to visit was not a bar, but a store. Doyle had never seen a child be shy towards people in big groups. It was unusual.  I was a Third Grade teacher, before, but Demonic's people skills...His mom didn't put him in school.  Doyle goes towards the desk with Demonic holding his hand.

"Is it me or..." Doyle points to himself, as he asks Demonic. "Did mom not put ya in School?"

Demonic looks at him, quite blank.

 "I have no idea what School is."

This is...really sad.  Doyle notes to himself. Note to self: Tell Demonic’s dad to get him in school. The employee behind the desk, Davis Hannal, is alarmed when he sees Doyle in his store.

 "Francis?" Davis's eyebrows shoot up.                       

Doyle sends Davis a glare.

"Davis, I don't go by my middle name." Doyle reminds him, while patting Demonic's shoulder.

"What is this store?" Demonic asks in a low voice, as young adults of different aspects of Las Angeles were browsing the isles.

 "An Alcohol store." Davis said, leaning his arms on the plastic-wide flat surface. "I assume you are introducing a kid to wine."

 Doyle shook his head.

 "No." Doyle said, opposed to introducing a child to the side where it would become downhill. "I have ta talk with ya in private, with Demonic."

 Davis eyes lighten up.

 "How demonic is this kid?" David's left hand reaches for a stake. Davis could not afford a demon child to be in here and kill him.

  Demonic frowns.

 "It's not what you think," Demonic insists. "It is my name!"

 Davis's hand backs away from the stake.

 "Hey Bob," Davis calls out to another employee. "Can you cover for me?"

 The other employee aka Bob, a man wearing a red baseball hat, nods. So Doyle, Davis, and Demonic go into a back room. Bob takes Davis place just as a customer had come to purchase. Davis shuts the doors behind them. Demonic hides behind Doyle.

  "Doyle, what kind of emergency calls for bringing a kid in a private meeting?" Davis asks Doyle, folding his arms.

  Doyle looks over his shoulder.

"Don't be scared." Doyle said, in his friendly-confident Irish voice.   "Show him."

Demonic clears his throat.

 Demonic's face transforms into a young, puppy werewolf.

"A Werewolf!" Davis backs into the corner, trembling in fear. It's not just vampires or demons that can plague nightmares, it's also werewolves. His face becomes an incredibly bright red. He is frightened.  "Are you high, Doyle?"

 Doyle laughs, shaking his head.

 "He's not a full blooded Werewolf," Doyle explains to Davis, swaying his hands lightly. Davis has not changed  at all. He laughs as though this just scared the living crap out of Davis. "Calm down."

  "I am not calm,"  Davis is a hothead when he's scared. And absolutely does not make sense when frightened.  "And you are Mr.Calm!"

  Doyle knew a way around that side of Davis.

  "Demonic is a half-breed. "

 Davis rubs his chin.

 "So he...is a Lycan." Davis takes a few steps away from the corner. "...Doyle. You told me what he was, but not the reason."