The thought of Bis made my brow furrow. I should have called him when I had the chance. "I just lost everything in the world that means anything to me, and you're taking me out to eat?" I protested.
Ignoring the host now looking at us, Al waited until I brought my gaze up to him before saying, "You just gained everything in two worlds, and I'm taking you to Dalliance. You don't eat here, you network."
My shoulders slumped. Networking. I was sick of demon networking/partying.
The host sniffed at us, and Al turned, his jaw a little heavier than he usually had it, his hair a little thinner. What do you really look like? I wondered, thinking of that black-skinned demon with the tail he'd scared his gargoyle with.
"Reservations for two. You'll find it under Algaliarept," Al said, hooking his shiny dress shoe behind my leg and pulling me forward.
The man looked at the folder open on his desk. "You've been declined," he said distantly, his voice clear over the music thumping around us.
A growl escaped Al, and the skin around his eyes tightened. "There's been a mistake."
Looking Al straight in the eyes, the demon said, "Your credit sucks, sir."
"Ah." Al poked me in the ribs, making me jump and stick out my chest. "How long have you worked here...Calvin?"
Calvin closed the file. "Long enough to know that Dali is not your personal friend but your parole officer. No table."
Dali? What did Dali have to do with this? Al was starting to look ticked. True, I didn't want to be here, but I wanted to be at Al's little four-room palace even less. "Al, I'm tired," I said, wrinkling my nose as if I smelled something rank. "This slop will likely give me the runs. Can't we just go home for a cheese sandwich?"
The host turned his attention to me, sneering. His expression became empty of emotion, and then I gasped when he reached across the desk, grabbed my arm, and yanked me closer. "You're not a familiar," he said, his face inches from mine. "You're that-"
I yelped as I was jerked back, Al having taken my other arm and reclaimed me. "She's not a that, she's a whom. Hands off the lady."
"Hey!" I said, my arms out like I was being crucified. "If you both don't let go of me, you're both going to be singing soprano!" Just because I was in heels and carrying a Gucci bag didn't mean I didn't know how to use them in new, creative ways.
The two men looked at each other and let go simultaneously. Regaining my balance, I snatched my bag from the floor and tugged my uncomfortable skirt straight. God, this suit made me look like a dullard.
A heavy, balding man in a tux strode from the kitchen looking bothered as he started for us. Eyes fixed on us, he gave a final bit of instruction to one of the waitstaff and continued forward. My eyes widened. I knew this demon. It was Dali, and suddenly the name of the place made sense. Demons could look like anything; why Dali wanted to be an older, over-weight civil servant who ran a restaurant was beyond me.
"You got her?" he said to Al, his bushy white eyebrows bunched as he took me in.
"She's with me," Al said as he beamed, taking my arm in warning.
Dali flicked his eyes over me. "And you're sure she's..."
Al's smile grew even wider. "She is."
I felt like a cow he'd traded a handful of magic beans for. "I'm what?" I asked, and Al inclined his head at me, his expression becoming decidedly-worriedly-fond.
"A demon," Al said, and Calvin sniffed his disbelief. "We are here to celebrate, and this pile of crap won't seat us."
The host stood firm, and Dali looked at the list as if he didn't care.
"Dali! She is!" Al protested. "I know it! They cursed her and everything!"
"Dali, she isn't," I muttered, and the older demon sighed, tapping the paper with a thick finger. Behind him, six tables sat empty.
"I suppose I could give you a table by the kitchen," he finally offered.
"The kitchen?" Al echoed, appalled.
Dali let the folder hit the desk with a smack, and Calvin looked vindicated. "I've seen nothing from her that warrants anything better," Dali said, and Al huffed. "Cursing her doesn't make her a demon."
"I'm telling you, she is!"
Leaning in, Dali said calmly, "You're a scam artist on the skids-"
"I am a procurer and instructor of fine familiars for the discriminating palate," Al interrupted. "You've bought from me yourself."
"-and I'm not about to fall for one of your Henry Higgins cons," Dali finished.
Affronted, my mouth dropped open. "Hey!"
Al lost some of his confidence, hunching slightly. "Dali...Give me this one thing. A table. That's all I'm asking. How can I prove her birthright if no one sees her?"
The music shifted to a faster pace, and Dali frowned. "Sit them in the corner," he finally said, and Al straightened, beaming.
"I'm not a demon," I said as the host moved to show us to a table.
"That's what I'm thinking, too," Dali said, his head down as he scratched something in that folder of his.
Al pinched my elbow. "If you can't say something nice, keep your mouth shut, Rachel. You are not helping."
Mood ugly, I followed Al's not-very-subtle push to go first. My feet hurt in the gray pumps, but at least my knees were okay. Beside and a little behind me, Al nodded to the demons we passed as if they were great friends, only to get a lackluster response. Unlike most of the places Al had taken me, there were no familiars, and I didn't like being the only girl in the place.
"Al," I whispered as he led us to the back. "I'm not a demon. I know I said I was, but that was for the coven because I was mad. I'm not really one."
Smiling at someone, Al waved. "I believe you are, and the sooner you accept it, the sooner we can get out of a four-room apartment and into something more suitable."
Okay, I was more than arm candy. I was his ticket to solvency. "Al..."
"Relax, itchy witch. Smile!"
"I have a name," I grumped, my stomach pinching me harder.
"Yes, but it has no pizzazz. Ra-a-a-a-chel. Rach-e-e-e-eel," he said, trying it out in different ways. "No one will tremble in terror at that. Oh my God!" he said in a high falsetto. "It's Rachel! Run! Hide!"
I'd had boyfriends who might differ with him, but I was silent when the host stopped before a booth behind a pillar. Al smoothly pulled out a chair from the adjacent empty table. "Relax," he said as he invited me to sit. "You're the only female demon besides Newt, and she's f**king crazy. Let them look at you."