The day after the disaster.

Lucien opened his eyes to a dimly lit room, although it's already 2:00 in the afternoon and Pyewacket did not open the thick drapes. He squinted and groaned, feeling as if an axe was deeply embedded in his head. His vision struggled to cope with the sunlight that peeked through the small window facing his bed.

Besides the pounding headache, the nasty vomit taste in his mouth and the dehydrated feeling were a stark reminder that he had been heavily drinking the previous night. Both his tongue and throat felt like sandpaper. His body was aching all over and it hurt to move.

Now he understood why they call it a 'hangover', because it feels as if the darkest storm clouds are over his head, not intending to clear until late in the day.

He lay unmoving for a few moments, struggling to recover from last night's abuse. Even the idea of thinking is making his head crack. And then, without warning, the memories came flooding back into his mind, hard and clear. It was a convoluted mess of sounds, sights, and scents that overwhelmed him for a fleeting moment. At first, they came to him in trickles but as he sorted through them, they hit him like a maelstrom.

Pyewacket had just arrived after a quick trip to the convenience store when the entire complex was roused by Lucien's screaming.

"Fuck! Fuck my life! Fuck everything!" He screamed at the top of his lungs.

Pyewacket smirked and rolled his eyes as he coolly made his way to his master's bedroom. He found him sitting down by the edge of the bed, face buried in his hands.

"Please, earth, just swallow me whole..." Lucien whined.

Pyewacket leaned on the door and crossed his arms. "You'll disturb the neighbors," he said in a cold, sharp tone, interrupting Lucien's monologue.

"Why do I have to remember everything so fucking clearly? Why?!" Lucien slumped to the floor and groaned, resentment palpable in the air.

"You'll have to live with the consequences," Pyewacket chided as he walked past Lucien to open the drapes.

"Damn it, Pye, do you really want to kill me? Keep it closed!" Lucien crawled his way towards the bathroom.

"I told you to go easy on the alcohol. Now look what happened." Pyewacket trailed him to the bathroom. "I'm sorry, but I'm so upset with you right now."

It took Lucien a good ten seconds to finally be able to get up to his feet. His hands grasped the edge of the sink as he tried to keep his balance. Then, he looked at Pyewacket in the mirror's reflection, shamefaced and dejected.

"I really don't want you nagging at me right now, Pye."

"Tell me about it, Master. Because there's absolutely nothing praise-worthy about what happened last night."

This was Lucien's worst hangover to date. The pressure in his head was mounting the more he moved and talked. He turned on the faucet and splashed cold water on his face in an attempt to feel refreshed. He almost wished he could wash his brain free of the toxins and the horrible memories, too.

The mirror showed the deep, dark circles under his bloodshot eyes, his face pale and dull, lips cracked and dry. Gone was last night's confident and zealous Lucien Salverson who thought he had the whole world in his hands.

"I'm such a failure. Mammon can go ahead and eat me now. I don't care anymore."

Earlier that day, Pyewacket promised himself not to talk to Lucien for the rest of the day. But he was such a pitiful sight. He could not help but wonder why he easily gives in to his whims and woes.

He took a deep breath as he walked past Lucien and into the shower enclosure where he turned on the shower. "Get in. This should make you feel better," he suggested as he motioned for Lucien to enter. "I bought Alka-Seltzer for your hangover. You need to eat too, so I'll prepare you a light meal. I'll call you when it's ready."

Lucien stared at him for a moment before taking off his boxer shorts and stepping into the shower. "You're sounding more and more like a real butler the longer you stay with me."

Pyewacket scowled. "I feel more like a caregiver, and I'm not happy with it."

For the first time, there was no clapback or witty remark coming from Lucien. Pyewacket bit his lip, unable to say what he was really thinking.

"... I'm sorry," Lucien muttered contritely, his voice barely audible over the sound of the water. "I know I'm always giving you a hard time. But if I expect my efforts alone to be enough, then I'd be stupid. You were always there to help me out."

Pyewacket is not accustomed to being treated with kindness and sentimentality, especially by Lucien. In fact, this was the first time he said something close to a 'thank you'.

He went back inside the bathroom, stood next to the shower enclosure, and leaned against the tiled wall. There was a long moment of silence between them before he spoke again.

"What exactly happened last night, Master?" He queried. He could see Lucien's silhouette through the shower curtain. He was standing still, head bent as the cold shower beat down over his shoulders.

There was a pause before Lucien replied, "I drank more than I could handle."

Not exactly the answer Pyewacket was expecting to hear.

"That man you were talking to. Is it true, what Mr. Higgins said?"

"... I don't know. I'm not sure."

"You're always so sure about many things, Master. Why can't it be this one?"

"How the fuck should I know, Pye? We weren't exactly wearing name tags last night, were we? And the stupid masks. And that stupid, useless no-label rule! God fucking damn it, that rule!" Lucien kicked and punched the wall, losing his restraint.

Pyewacket pressed his lips together and pinched the bridge of his nose, trying not to fan the flame any further. "You guys looked like you had a good time. You could've just asked him."

Lucien stuck his head out from behind the shower curtain. "He said he worked for the IT Department!" And then, it dawned on him that Murphy had neither confirmed nor denied it. He pulled his head back inside the shower and murmured, "God, I'm so stupid," to himself.

Pyewacket sighed. "Did you get his name, at least?"

"... I did."

Another moment of awkward silence.

"... I'm afraid I may have said too much. I might've blown my cover. I might get fired for hitting my boss – "

It was Pyewacket's turn to get shocked. "You did what?" he demanded as he pulled the shower curtain aside.

Lucien averted his eyes from him. "We... had an argument over something stupid. I... I don't remember much except that we were both really hammered and the next thing I knew, I punched him on the face." He wasn't ready to tell his familiar what exactly had transpired that night. He was determined to say only half-truths today, until he gets to fix the mess he created.

Pyewacket's mouth hung open in disbelief. "You... You really are a piece of work."

He could not bring himself to say the words that would comfort his master. It was one blunder after another, and he was already beyond disappointed. For a moment, he stared blankly at Lucien, who was standing listlessly under the shower which had little to no chance of improving his mood.

"Master," he mumbled as he turned away from Lucien, "please don't give Lord Mammon the chance to accuse you of being incapable of leading the fight in this war. I believe you are much stronger than this but please... don't prove me wrong."

His words ate at Lucien's chest, and seeing the disappointment etched on his face further darkened the cloud that was looming over him.

"I'll leave you to it. Let's talk about what to do next once you're feeling better," Pyewacket said with bitterness as he backed off and headed to the kitchen.

Even after two days, the remnants of last weekend's alcohol-soaked fiasco still made Lucien's head pulsate and his stomach heave. The sunglasses he wore did not provide any relief, as the brightness of the early-morning sun made his eyes tear up. And while at the gas station, he was barely able to fill up the car with petrol without the fumes making his stomach churn. He was nauseous and liable to throw up at the slightest provocation.

On the way to the office, he ruminated how much he remembered about his conversation with Murphy. As always with this kind of thoughts, the most horrible and humiliating ones were the first that came to mind.

He was embarrassed about telling him his strong belief in horoscopes and blood group compatibility to find the perfect partner. He confessed about getting off to hentai (which is something Murphy had zero idea about, so he had to explain what it is which only doubled the humiliation). He even admitted he didn't have sex until he turned 21. Now that everything has come to light, Murphy must be thinking he's a complete nutjob.

He cursed under his breath as he bit his left thumb, elbow resting against the car door. He could only hope the man doesn't have a memory as sharp as his.

But more importantly, he had been racking his brain for hours trying to think what personal information he may have divulged to Murphy. It was the very reason he had a sleepless night but after sorting out his thoughts, he was confident he did not expose his real identity.

As for Murphy himself, he did find it peculiar that he always found ways to evade questions that were too personal. At the time, it did not strike him as strange but now, everything just makes perfect sense. No wonder he was too hesitant to take off his mask.

The 20-minute drive to the office felt like a roller coaster ride. He should have asked Pyewacket to drive for him but when he woke up that morning, he found that he had already left ahead of him. He had no reason to complain nor to get mad. He deserved the cold treatment.

He stepped out of his car cautiously, looking around to see if he would bump into someone on the way to the elevator. After all, he created quite a scene back at the party, so it wouldn't surprise him that he'd be the talk of the town.

Cleaning up one's own mess sure is tough work.

It's time to stop dwelling in misery.

Pyewacket's words were a painful wake-up call to Lucien. The feeling of disappointment and of disappointing others was more than enough reason for him to follow through with his plan – or the new and improved version of it.

Instead of heading to his office, he went straight to the HR Department at the second floor of the main building. Lucien was thankful he only had to take the elevator to get there. Otherwise, it would have been another harrowing challenge, given his current disposition.

George Higgins' office was at the south end of the floor, so Lucien had to endure the curious looks and muted whispers of rumormongers who may have seen or heard what had happened to him at the party. This was one of those moments he wished he had the ability to teleport. Or a shortcut to his destination could have done the trick.

"You reap what you sow..." Lucien muttered under his breath, as he braved his two-minute Walk of Shame.

He knocked on the door and hurriedly stepped in when Higgins called for him to come in. With his back straight, he stood by the door, lingering for a moment before saying a word. He waited for Higgins to say something. He did not. He kept his face buried in his computer screen.

The smell of cigarette, brewed coffee, and cologne invaded his nose, making him wretch and heave. He pressed a hand to his lips, trying to stop himself from gagging in front of Higgins. He summoned up a fake cough to call his attention. Finally, he glanced up at him before turning his attention back to the computer.

"Man, you were so hammered," was the first thing Higgins said. He chuckled, but his humor sounded forced. He waved Lucien to a chair near his desk.

"I'd rather not talk about it," Lucien replied sternly as he walked up to Higgins and remained standing.

Higgins finally turned to face him. "So, to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit, Mr. Salverson?"

Gone was the laid-back, unpretentious George Higgins from the quinquiennial party. The person in front of him now is the normal George Higgins that he loathed: Stiff, austere, and ready to make things hard for him.

He cleared his throat. "I won't be long. I just need to ask a tiny favor."

Higgins gave him a scrutinizing look as he took a sip of his coffee.

"I need more info on that guy I talked to at the party," Lucien said without waiting for Higgins' response.

"You know, if he's a regular employee, then I'd be glad to help you out," Higgins replied as he put his cup down on his desk, looking at Lucien attentively. "But he's not a regular employee. You know the rules about getting those kinds of information."

Lucien pressed a hand to his temple. "His position. I can at least get that much info, right?"

Higgins leaned back on his chair and rubbed the back of his neck. "I've heard rumors, Chief. What exactly did you do to this guy, hmm?"

"What sort of rumor did you – "Lucien shook his head, "Forget it. It's not my concern right now. I just – I just need to apologize about something I did, okay? Now, please."

Asking for favors is not his thing and George Higgins is aware of that fact. He thought that if Lucien had come to this point, then it must be something serious.

"You look like you've got yourself into quite a mess, Chief." Shaking his head, he moved back to the front of his computer, moving the mouse around on the pad. "Alright. Let's see what comes up, then. Give me a name."

Lucien bit his lip and scratched his chin. "... Murphy."

Higgins typed out the name then looked over at him, waiting.

"I only got his first name, okay?"

"Unbelievable." Higgins muttered as he shook his head and chuckled in disbelief. "You can't possibly expect me to go through with this, with only a first name..." His voice trailed off as his search came back in just seconds, with one matching result. "Well, how'd you know, there's only one person in the company with that name."

Lucien's eyes gleamed. "So? Anything you can share with me?"

Higgins sighed. "Sorry, Chief. I can't tell you anything more than his name and position – and even that could put me into trouble. See here?"

He tilted the computer screen to Lucien's direction, enough for him to see what is written on it. In bold, red letters were the words: 'Murphy Odenkirk. Board of Directors. Category 3 Information: Confidential. Server unauthorized to access material.'

"Even I don't have access to this information." Higgins shrugged.

'Fuck all these crazy rules!' Lucien screamed in his head.

Higgins turned to him again, this time trying to suppress a laugh. "Man, you've seriously pushed your luck this time. A member of the freaking board, of all people."

Lucien straightened up, teeth clenched tightly together in frustration. "Then I guess there's nothing more you can do. Thanks for your help. I'd better get going. Sorry for bothering you with this."

Higgins silently watched as Lucien made his way to the door. But sure enough, the stark disappointment on his colleague's face would leave him troubled for the rest of the day. And anyway, his curiosity has already been piqued. Just what could have riled up a person so unrelenting as Lucien Salverson?

"Hold on," he spoke before Lucien could step out. "This may be a shot in the dark, but it might just help you iron things out much easily. You see, most of those folks from the top would come to the office on weekends."

Lucien turned back at him, eyes sparking with hope.

"I've seen it from the company roster before. Only Ms. Breslin and the COO would come to the office on weekdays, but the rest would only report on weekends. Very rarely on a weekday except when the monthly board meeting falls on those days."

Lucien grinned from ear to ear. "That's a big help, Higgins."

Higgins picked up his coffee again and with the cup, did a mini-salute to Lucien.

Lucien hesitated for a moment, and said, "Hey, uhm... I owe you."

"You sure do, Chief. Make sure to let me know how it goes for you. Okay?"

Lucien gave a weak nod and a smile before stepping out of his office. For a moment, he paused at the door, feeling glad that his efforts were not entirely in vain. The information he got from Higgins was enough to give him a good headstart.

"Mr. Salverson?" A voice called out to him. He looked up to see two men in uniform approaching him. One was a front-desk security officer, while the other appeared to be a courier.

Lucien glanced down at the security officer's name tag, trying to rack his brain for a first name. He vaguely remembered the man saying it the first time they had a casual conversation, but that was almost half a year ago.

Rick something? It started with an R and he was almost positive it had three syllables. Finally, it came to him.

"Hey, Ricardo. 'Been a while."

The officer beamed at him. "Oh gosh, Sir, you can just call me Ricky. And there's mail for you. I saw you heading to HR earlier, so I told our buddy here to just give it to you instead of going all the way up to your office."

The courier handed over several sealed documents to Lucien and made him sign a paper before heading off.

"You look like you're running late," Ricky said as he checked his watch.

"Uh, yeah, I guess I am," replied Lucien as he shoved the documents into his briefcase and hurried towards the elevator. "Be seeing you around, Ricky."

"Yessir." The security officer made a two-finger salute before returning to his post.

Just then, an idea struck Lucien like a thunderbolt.

Who's a better person to turn to if you need to know all the possible entry and exit points in this building?

Agitated, he bit his thumb and fixed his gaze on the security officer's back until the elevator doors closed in front of him.

He could hardly wait for this day to end.

The trick is to gain friends in all places. You'll never know when a friend could help you in times of need. And for Lucien, it's important to take advantage of every possible opportunity, no matter how minute.

Speaking of friends, things have been turning up for Pyewacket ever since the quinquennial party. Unlike Lucien who stained his reputation on top of potentially gaining a formidable enemy, his familiar had effortlessly gained new friends and a mini fan club of women who seem to be desperate for a hook-up.

Normally, this would tick an envious Lucien but right now, there is only a remorseful Lucien who's willing to take his pride down a notch and prove to his familiar that he's still worth his faith and loyalty.

It was 5:15 in the afternoon and everyone who is not working overtime had already clocked out and left the premises. At his office window he peered down the main building's entrance, expecting to see Ricky in his post. He was a huge bear of a man, so it was easy to spot him even from the 18th floor. After a couple of minutes, he turned to gather up his things and put them in his briefcase.

As he was ready to leave, there was a knock on the door. Pyewacket stepped inside his office, realizing that Lucien was scrutinizing him carefully.

"Should I drive you home or just take the bus?" he asked bluntly, avoiding eye contact. There was a tinge of coldness in his voice, enough to let Lucien know he is not ready to reconcile just yet.

Lucien lifted his hand to adjust his glasses. "Wait for me at the parking lot. I need to talk to someone first before we head home. Give me 15 minutes." He reached into his trouser pocket and took out the car keys, then handed it to Pyewacket. He stepped outside the office without another word, leaving Pyewacket speechless and puzzled behind him.

It took three minutes to reach the ground floor of the main building. Lucien stepped into an almost empty hallway, save for the receptionist at the front desk, a couple of employees sitting on couches in the lobby, and Ricky who was talking to someone over the intercom.

Lucien walked up and stood beside the security officer, who quickly ended the idle conversation over the intercom.

"Not pulling an all-nighter this time?" Ricky broke the ice.

"No, thank god," replied Lucien as he pulled out a half-full pack of cigarettes from his coat pocket. He offered one to Ricky, which he politely refused.

"Not allowed to smoke while on-duty."

Lucien nodded and smiled. He pulled out a cigarette for himself, slowly puffing out little rings of smoke as he turned to Ricky.

"Looks like you've got a long night ahead of you."

"The relieving officer called in sick, so I have to cover his shift," Ricky said with a deep sigh.

"That sucks," Lucien said, before adding, "Oh, that reminds me. I got these as credit card rewards but couldn't find a way to use them. They're due to expire next month, too. I'd hate to see them go to waste." He clicked his briefcase open, rummaged among its contents, and withdrew a thick bundle of vouchers. "Most of these, you can use to get discounts at the Lyon Café over there, at Building 3. There are a couple of vouchers for free pizza and some other stuff, too."

Ricky couldn't hide the look of surprise on his face. "No, I couldn't possibly... This is too much, Mr. Salverson," he said with a half-suppressed smile.

Lucien clicked his tongue as he shoved the bundle into his hand. "I insist. Like I said, I've no use for them. I rarely go out to eat, anyway."

Ricky had no choice but to accept his offer. "Credit card companies and their silly promos, huh," he muttered as he folded the bundle and put it in his pants pocket. "Must be nice to have a wife waiting for you at home and cooking meals."

Lucien snorted with laughter. The thought of Pyewacket wearing an apron while holding a frying pan somehow crossed his mind.

"Yeah, well, it's not too bad."

"Is she the one going to pick you up today?"

Lucien shook his head as he took a long drag on his cigarette. "My secretary," he replied as he checked his watch and started tapping his foot against the marble floor. For some time, he stood in silence, wondering what to say next.

"Something wrong, Mr. Salverson?"

He took one final drag before stubbing the cigarette out and tossing it into a nearby bin. "Say, Ricky, have you ever seen any of the C-Suite folks enter the building from here?"

The randomness of the question startled the security officer. He was speechless for a moment, and then let out a chuckle. "Well... I'm not sure how to answer that myself."

Lucien tilted his head as he noticed how Ricky's aura had changed from a faint off-white, to a very pale blue. His question definitely riled him up, so he decided to push on.

"Thing is, I met one of the board members last weekend. I needed to return something he'd left behind at the party, but I don't know how to get in touch with him."

Ricky rubbed the back of his neck. "Is that so? Hmm..."

Sensing the officer's reluctance, Lucien knew he was bound to fail. At this point, he only had one other option.

"Maybe you can leave it at the Lost and Found Section and they can go retrieve it – "

"I prefer to hand it over personally," Lucien interjected as he stepped in front of Ricky, looked him in the eye, and said, "Reveal."

Last month, Lucien had learned a new trick from Pyewacket: Hypnotism. His innate ability to beguile people is its much gentler cousin. And unlike the latter, hypnotizing requires a great deal of concentration and willpower to get the results he wanted. So far, he had only tested it on a decrepit neighbor who seemed to be exhibiting tell-tale signs of dementia. It was neither a failure nor a success.

Being a Cambion, the ability to hypnotize should be tenfold easier. Pyewacket reminded him to always maintain eye contact with his target and once he does, a trigger word would put the person in a trance. Only then would he be able to get something out of the person – whether they like it or not.

Ricky had a blank stare to him, his mouth partly open as he followed Lucien with his eyes.

His mouth curved in a triumphant smile. Pyewacket will be proud of him.

He smacked his lips and cleared his throat appreciatively. "Tell me what you know about the C-Suite folks, Ricky. How do they enter the building?"

There was a pause before Ricky said, "I... have only heard from a friend who works for the other agency they hired."

Lucien swallowed hard and nodded. "And what did that friend tell you?" It takes a great deal of willpower not to tear his eyes off his target, and it's doing something unpleasant in the pit of his stomach.

"... Private people, some armed. Between the Main and Building 3, there's an old warehouse that looks abandoned."

Lucien's eyebrows furrowed. He could barely picture what the officer just said, though he was sure he has a perfect view of it from his office.

"The company bought it from the nearby junkyard – made it look like it's still part of it."

"And did your friend tell you what's in it?"

"... Just a covered parking lot for the executives. It's the only part in the complex that connects to the main building from the other side."

Lucien bit his lip. "From the other side? How's that possible, Ricky? You can only get into the elevator if you enter from the main hall."

Ricky did not answer.

"Is there an underground passage, Ricky? A teleportation pod?"

Still no answer.

A crackling noise burst over the intercom, followed by a voice announcing the day's turnover of shifts.

Lucien sighed as he muttered, "Reveal," and tore his eyes away from Ricky, who slumped to the floor.

Ricky blinked and looked around in a numbed daze. He shook his head then looked up at Lucien, who stooped to prop him up against his chest.

"What... What the hell happened?"

"You fainted, Ricky, that's what happened. Can you try and stand up?"

"I... I think so. I feel a little..." Ricky pressed a hand on his forehead as he slowly hoisted himself upright.

"Just take a deep breath and get your bearings, okay? When was the last time you ate?" Lucien looked over Ricky's shoulder to see Pyewacket pulling into the driveway across the building. He raised an arm to get his attention.

"It's probably just the heat. I'm fine now."

"Everything okay here?" Pyewacket slowly got out of the car, leaving the engine running.

Ricky leaned against the podium by the entrance door and rubbed his eyes. "Yes, yes. I'm fine now. Don't worry."

"You look pale," Lucien commented. "Maybe you should go have dinner before your next shift starts."

The security officer smiled weakly as he shook his head. "I don't know what the hell happened but seriously, I'm okay. You folks better be on your way now." He waved his hand dismissively.

"You sure?" Lucien asked again as he slowly made his way down the steps and stood on the sidewalk next to Pyewacket. "You should probably use one of those vouchers I gave you. Get yourself a nice, big meal."

"I will, I will. Thanks again, Mr. Salverson." The security officer nodded as he watched them get into the car and leave.

Lucien and Pyewacket drove for several minutes in silence.

"What was that all about?" Pyewacket finally asked. "You didn't punch someone again, did you?"

Lucien frowned. "You better stop mocking me. FYI, Mr. Philip Oh-So-Fucking-Perfect Menendez, this was quite a productive day for me."

Pyewacket shot him a questioning look.

"Just so you know," Lucien started, his nose in the air, "a lot's happened today. Yours truly made great strides with his plan."

Pyewacket turned to the next avenue, the Ferrari wheeling the corner.

"Alright, spill it. What did my Oh-So-Great Master do today?"

Lucien smiled impishly and lifted his shoulders. "Glad you asked. Well, I was late for work today because I went to see Higgins first. You know, Mr. Beet from last Saturday?"

"You must stop calling people names, Master."

"The good news is that I got Murphy's full name. It's Murphy Odenkirk."

"Murphy. So that's his name..."

"The bad news is that the guy's pretty high up there. He's one of the shareholders, so I think I'd be seriously fucked if we don't get this settled soon. The even badder news is that his profile is confidential info. Not that I didn't expect it, but I hoped for more details other than his name – like his home address or something."

Pyewacket ran his fingers over his chin, trying to hold back from saying something that would create a conflict.

"But the other good news is that I was able to get more concrete information from Ricky."

"And Ricky is...?"

"The security officer from earlier. And oh, I managed to hypnotize him." Lucien wiggled his eyebrows waiting for a response.

"Oh. Really?" Pyewacket did not sound convinced.

Lucien frowned. "What's with that dry reaction? I finally managed to hypnotize someone, like I told you I would. The least you can do is to smile and stop giving me the cold shoulder."

He told Pyewacket everything that transpired at that point. And in his eagerness to set the wheels in motion, he spent a full hour sharing his plans with Pyewacket and devising ways to go about with it. It was such a rare and infectious enthusiasm that made the familiar forget he was ever upset with his master.

That night, Lucien and Pyewacket sat side-by-side on the couch in the living room. Lucien helped himself to a plate of mashed potatoes and green peas, while Pyewacket watched and listened to him in silence.

"... So I need you to keep a close eye on that warehouse for the next few weekends, both Saturdays and Sundays," Lucien instructed, wagging his spoon through the air. "I suggest you do it in your canine form, so you won't rouse suspicion. Got it?" He took a mouthful of potatoes before continuing. "Speaking of which, I haven't seen you in your other form, for weeks. You sure you'll do okay in your current form?" He shoved another spoonful in his mouth as his eyes scanned Pyewacket from head to toe.

Pyewacket replied with a shrug. "I'll manage. I'm starting to like this human form, anyway."

"Uh-huh..." A perturbed look clouded Lucien's eyes, but his other concerns must be set aside for another time.

Pyewacket leaned back against the couch and rested one foot on his knee. "I'm still waiting for you to tell me how this person looks, Master."

"Oh, uh, right." Lucien absently built a small pile of mashed potatoes on his plate. "Well... he's pleasant to look at."

Pyewacket scratched his head. "You can do better than that, Master."

Lucien pursed his lips, his eyes narrowing as he tried to pick out the details of Murphy's face and body. Instead, his thoughts wandered off elsewhere, in the dimly lit alley where he shared and kept an intimate secret with the stranger.

Now that was something he didn't want to forget. If anything, he kept playing it repeatedly in his head.

A slow tremor began in his stomach, gradually spreading down his body at the steamy memory. He shifted in his seat, pulling the plate close to his stomach.

He cleared his throat. "He – He has long hair. Yup. Long hair that flows down to his back, kind of like Legolas but thicker, slightly wavy, and light brown," he narrated, trying to banish the vulgar thought.

"And who is Legolas?"

Lucien gave him an incredulous look before shaking his head, and said, "Never mind. He has long, light brown hair. That's it. You don't always find guys with that kind of hairdo around here anyway, so he'd be easier to spot."

"And what else, besides the hair?"

"A mole. Right here." He pointed to the left side of his chin. He could hardly forget the mole because he found it cute. Beauty marks and freckles on faces are a personal favorite.

"And oh, the piercing!" He pointed to the corner of his lips. "Over here. He has lip piercing. Kind of weird for someone in the company to be having those, don't you think?"

"Well that's probably because he's an exception to the rule."

"Not to mention the weird tattoos," Lucien added, as he raised his hands and wiggled his fingers. "Tattoos on all fingers, Pye. Could it be that he's a member of the mafia? Like a Russian mafia?"

Pyewacket shook his head and snickered. "How could you nearly forget his most significant features, Master?"

"What, the piercing and tattoos? But I was paying more attention to his face than – " Lucien stopped talking abruptly and frowned. "Does it even matter? I've told you everything I could remember, anyways."

"Long hair, mole on chin, piercing and tattoos... and a pleasant-looking face." Pyewacket looked at him derisively. "Looks like trouble to me."

While Lucien and Pyewacket were nowhere near as good as Sherlock and Watson, they have spent their days subtly probing and investigating Carmichael Tech's premises, based on the information they have collected from Higgins and the security officer.

For one, Lucien was right about getting a perfect view of the shabby warehouse from his office. There is something about people not noticing or remembering a building or an object that has been there since the beginning. You expect them to just be there and only when it disappears, will people begin to wonder what had been there in the first place.

Lucien would not even remember that a warehouse exists within the premises if Ricky hadn't pointed it out to him. The people from the top probably banked on people's tendency to ignore things that don't matter to them and just expected everyone else to not pay attention to it. True enough, nobody cares about some ramshackle warehouse in the middle of a high street.

Except for Lucien.

There was no way to enter the warehouse if you were to drive a car into Carmichael Tech's main driveway. Instead, you will have to go all the way to the expressway and make a sharp turn to a narrow street behind Building 3.

Lucien had been keeping a close eye on that area for a week now. So far, he'd only seen two cars enter the street. But these cars were not headed for the nearby junkyard. In fact, the cars looked brand-new and far too expensive to just be salvaged for scraps. No. These cars were headed for the warehouse.

Ricky's accounts were starting to look credible.

And the enigmatic entryway? It was surprisingly the easiest mystery to solve – but only because Lucien discovered it by accident.

Just like what Ricky said, the warehouse was adjacent to the main building. After days of careful rumination, Lucien determined that the only possible way to enter the building and up the 20th floor, is the elevator. After all, what was the special keyhole on the Floor 20 button for?

Working late one evening, Lucien left his office to have dinner at a restaurant in Building 3. He went into the elevator and pushed the letter 'G' – ground floor. But on the way down, he felt a jolt, followed by the lights dimming. After a while Lucien realized that the elevator had stopped moving.

Lucien isn't one to panic, so he calmly rang the emergency bell.

But no one came. He realized it was a Friday night and only a skeleton staff was working in the building. After 10 minutes with no sign of help coming, he decided to climb up the side of the elevator and banged open the trap door in the ceiling. But it's not like in the movies. The trap door was locked.

Lucien was already frustrated at this point. While he was aware it was dangerous to leave the elevator, he jumped back down and desperately prised the doors open to see if he could find a way out. As expected, the doors did not budge. Instead, he felt a breeze behind him, which sent shivers down his spine.

He didn't want to stay there any longer. Dismissing all grisly thoughts, he turned around and faintly saw his reflection in the mirror. No ghost. No ghoul. Instead, he could feel air coming in from a small gap between two mirrors.

Lucien's fear was quickly replaced by curiosity and anticipation. It was a long shot, but he placed his hands between the gap and tried to yank it open. As he wrenched it apart, he found concrete wall and a hollow space beneath his feet. He was somewhere between Floor 7 and Floor 8, but on the other side of the elevator.

The side nobody knew about – except for the people in Floor 20.

All this time, the elevator was double-sided, with the mirrored rear doors made to look non-existent. One could only wonder why they had to go through all that trouble, but Lucien knew better. After all, big secrets require a big cover-up.

This time, he had hit the jackpot.

Thirty minutes later, without warning, Lucien felt a tremor as the elevator moved. The doors opened and he was welcomed by Pyewacket, an elevator mechanic, and a security officer.

Lucien popped out of the elevator like a cork. "Pye, you don't know what just happened...!" he raved as he grabbed Pyewacket by the arm.

"Uh, sure we do," Pyewacket said anxiously as he looked at Lucien, and then to the mechanic and security officer. "Are you okay?"

When he was out of earshot, he leaned close to Pyewacket and said, "I found the entryway, Pye. It was there all along."

"Are you okay, Mr. Salverson?" asked the security officer as he watched Lucien and Pyewacket dart off.

"Yes, I am. Thanks!" Lucien replied as they hurriedly left the building, leaving the officer and the mechanic baffled.

On the way home, Lucien told his familiar about his discovery in the elevator. It just confirmed everything Ricky had told him, and he was more than ready to set the rest of his plans in motion.

"Pye, you've got to tell me right away if there's any progress on your end, okay?" He tapped his fingers on the wheel, trying to get his thoughts sorted out. "I have a good feeling about this. We're definitely going to meet again very soon."

But contrary to Lucien's expectation, the weeks that followed were rather anticlimactic. The waiting turned out to be the hardest part and the longer it dragged on, the more it heightened his anxiety.

Every day that passes without productive results only made him think of the worst-case scenario. It already came to a point that he dreaded the idea of going to the office, fearing that a letter of termination will turn up on his desk.

No news may mean good news but, in this case, no news only made his stress level skyrocket.

Two weeks had passed since that small breakthrough in the elevator. And the more Lucien thought about it, the less significant it became. The thrill and excitement had dwindled, and he found himself smoking far too many cigarettes the past few days.

One Saturday night, Lucien came home tipsy from the bar after celebrating a colleague's birthday. Lately he had been home alone on weekends up until late at night since he had sent Pyewacket out to survey the warehouse. He was running particularly late that night, perhaps because there was a heavy downpour all throughout the day, leaving some of the streets flooded.

He would usually watch something on Netflix but that was a stressful and exhausting day, so he decided to go to bed. But because of the heavy rain, it was impossible for him to sleep in the noise. He got up to close all the windows, slumped down on the couch by the living room, and decided to wait for Pyewacket. Maybe he'll come home with good news this time.

He shifted to the edge of the couch and took out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from the drenched jacket he had worn earlier. He took out a bent cigarette, placed it between his lips and lit it. It was his eighth stick for the day and as frustrated as that made him, he was helplessly entrapped by the sight and scent of the rich smoke that wafted around him. He rested his head on the backrest of the couch, staring blankly at the cloud of smoke above him as he let his imagination escape from the reality of his situation.

It is during these moments of loneliness when his thoughts would always go back to that dark alley on a humid Saturday night. The way Murphy Odenkirk looked at him with fire in his eyes, speaking to him, telling him things, suggesting things... Their heated bodies fused together, the warmth of his lips burning his... and the skilful hands and mouth that lit up fireworks inside him like the Fourth of July.

The mystery of that night's orgasm plagued his thoughts. The pleasure felt like a gentle wave at first, and then a violent surge the next. The pocket of ecstasy burst with so much energy, touching every portion of his being, sending tremors through every nerve and cell in his body.

Many times, Lucien would touch himself just to get that feeling again. Other times he would reach a climax, but it can never quite surpass the one he felt that night with Murphy. So many climaxes. So many times, he let himself down.

And then, there are times when the day demands a climax. This is one of those days.

Sighing, Lucien ran his fingers through his hair. He took a long drag on his cigarette before pressing his fingers against his forehead.

"You're in a rut, Azrael Montgomery..." he mumbled to himself. "You've been able to endure it for years. Years, Azrael. Why stop now?"

Many times, he would tell himself it's just plain, old sexual attraction. It's not something he can't live without. But right now, the swelling in his pants is telling him otherwise.

He desperately needed to release himself.

Half-smoked cigarette in the corner of his mouth, Lucien laid back onto the couch, unzipped his jeans and slowly lifted his stiff member out of his boxer shorts. Forget hentai. Tonight, Murphy Odenkirk makes for the perfect fap material.

Lucien ran a hand up and down his growing length. He lifted his buttocks up and with his free hand undid his belt and slid his jeans down his ankles. Now he could really go to town thinking about Murphy. He rubbed, moaned and groaned as he thought about their tryst in the alley. He went through the entire scenario in his head, seeing it like it was a television screen.

As his breathing turned ragged, he stroked himself faster. But as the pressure started to build inside him, the thought that Pyewacket could be knocking on the door at some point, crossed his mind. He cursed under his breath as he pumped faster.

Just then, he heard a loud thud coming from the front door, just a few feet away from him.

"Master!" yelled Pyewacket, who had jumped out of a dark and twisted vortex that appeared out of nowhere. He was in his canine form, coat soaking wet from the rain.

"Fucking sh –!" Lucien bolted off the couch, his feet tangled in his pulled-down jeans as he went down and stubbed his toe on the edge of the coffee table. A glass ashtray had fallen from the table, sending cigarette ashes flying all over the place and onto his shirt.

"Master?" Pyewacket's tone had shifted from panic to concern.

"Fuck. Stay there!" Lucien bellowed. He knelt and hastily shrugged off his soiled shirt. "Oh shit, the carpet!" He hurriedly stubbed out the remains of his fallen cigarette, which nearly ignited the carpet fibers.

"I – I didn't have the keys. I kept ringing the doorbell, but you weren't answering. I've been waiting outside for 5 minutes and – "

"Couldn't you have just called?!" Lucien crouched down on the floor for what seemed like ages, struggling to pull up his jeans in an attempt to hide his erection. The folds of his jeans rubbed painfully.

'Why now? Damn it!' he thought in shame.

Pyewacket stared in astonishment. Still in his canine form, he quickly darted towards the bathroom. "Master, I – I'm so sorry! I shouldn't have been too rash! I didn't expect you'd be doing it in the living room, so I thought –"

"Shut up, Pye!" Lucien crouched further, fighting back tears not from the pulsating pain on his toe, but from utter humiliation.

Lucien checked his watch. He could still hear the shower going. It had been ten minutes since he first heard the water running. Even for Pyewacket, it was already quite a long shower. If anything, he's wasting too much water. He decided to go to the bathroom to see what was up.

"Pyewacket," he called out as he knocked on the door. He heard him turn off the shower. "I'm not mad, okay? So please, come out already."

The bathroom door slowly creaked open, and Pyewacket stuck his head out. He was now in his human form.

"Sorry..." he mumbled, feeling embarrassed as his face burned.

Lucien dropped his gaze and chuckled. "What are you apologizing for? I'm the one who's sorry."

A moment of awkward silence.

"Let's just drop it, okay? Now come on out." Lucien sighed softly as he turned away and motioned his familiar to follow him into the living room.

Pyewacket stepped out of the shower in a white shirt and black boxers, a towel slung across his shoulder.

Lucien sat down on the couch, patting the empty space beside him. "Sit down." He hooked an ankle over his thigh and stretched an arm along the backrest.

Pyewacket's heart hammered. Is he about to get a serious scolding?

Lucien studied his face for a moment before saying, "Hey, you don't look so well. The last time you fed was almost a couple of weeks ago. And you've been shifting more often than usual. It drains a lot of your energy, am I right? You're being careless again." He brought up a finger to Pyewacket's lips. "You need to feed."

The familiar looked troubled at first but after much hesitation, he held Lucien's wrist with both hands, bent his head, and took his finger into his mouth. Lucien gasped as he felt the familiar pin-prick pain, followed by the slow ooze of blood from his finger.

"... You've been drinking," Pyewacket remarked, giving Lucien a probing look before going back to his finger.

"Well, if it's you, it couldn't be any different from drinking wine."

Pyewacket drew his mouth from his finger, then wiped his lips with the back of his hand. "I don't particularly hate alcohol, but I don't like it either."

"Aren't they the same?"

"I can't be picky with my meal, can I?"

"Then... I'll make sure not to drink the next time we do this."

"Or you should stop drinking indiscriminately altogether. We don't want the incident at the party from ever happening again. Right?"

Lucien chortled. "Got it, Mom."

Silence permeated the air between them. The only thing they could hear was the murmuring of the rain through the windows. So much rain was falling that it blurred into one long, whirring noise.

"Master, earlier, I... I'm sorry for barging in like I did," Pyewacket broke the silence as he got up on the couch.

Once again, Lucien could feel his face burning with embarrassment.

"Maybe you should go to your bedroom. Then you'd have a more private mo – "

"I mean, I was just trying to jack off!" Lucien blurted out suddenly. "Can't you understand how difficult that is to do?"

Pyewacket was startled by his words. For a moment, he just stood there, lips pursed. With a faint smile, he rubbed his nape and said, "You make it sound like a chore, Master. I mean it's not difficult. I... I do it all the time." He averted his eyes from him. Lucien could swear he saw a slight blush across his cheeks and neck. It's strange.

"Wait. You do? Well, that's news. I thought... I mean, I thought only humans are capable of feeling it."

The conversation was taking an awkward turn, becoming even more excruciating the longer the other goes silent for too long.

Pyewacket sank back down onto the couch. "The thing is, it's actually fairly new to me. Perhaps it's because I've been in the mortal realm for too long, and... it's kind of like a side effect?"

Lucien folded his arms over his chest and rolled in towards the backrest of the couch. "Aren't demons always horny, though? Or maybe it's just the books and movies."

"Well," Pyewacket began, scratching the back of his ear, "before Lord Mammon summoned me here, he temporarily erased all of my memories of Hell."

"Oh." Lucien was surprised at this revelation. Pyewacket rarely shares anything personal, if at all. It's not as if they started out as friends. He didn't think it mattered, especially when Pyewacket came into his life like some unwanted child he had to raise. But they have been together for nearly five years – longer than any other friend he had in his life. And now, he thought it wouldn't be too bad to know more about his 'afterlife'.

"Like, no memories at all?"

Pyewacket shook his head. "Then again, Hell isn't exactly a place you'd miss."

Lucien laughed. "'Bet you're missing a lot." He paused, then said, "The sex, I mean."

Pyewacket stifled a laugh, giving him a sidelong glance. "I... I wouldn't know."

"Well... I bet they always have wild orgies down there. But now, you have Mammon to thank for turning you into a celibate. You probably would've missed a whole lot of things if you retained your memories." Lucien shifted from the couch and moved closer to Pyewacket. "Either way, you're back to being a virgin."

Pyewacket didn't know what made it happen. Didn't know what made things change. But gazing up at his master's flushed face, he could feel his body burning up.

How did things end up this way?

"Master, you're just pent-up – probably even drunk," Pyewacket snapped, trying to dodge Lucien's attempts to seduce him. "I don't want you to regret things once you've sobered up."

"What makes you think I'm drunk? I'm completely sober."

Pyewacket could feel the tension stealing through his body. He sat still, his whole body angled away from Lucien, even though they were now only inches apart.

"Over here, you can't do it with just anyone. It must be consensual. You need consent from the other. Understand?"

Pyewacket swallowed hard, nodded, no longer trusting himself to control his inhibitions.

Lucien cupped Pyewacket's face in his hands, his breath no less steady as he stared down into the ashen gray eyes that gazed back at him. This was the first time he had seen the familiar's eyes up-close; the icy gray beauty momentarily covered by the shield of soft-looking eyelashes. They looked as bewildered and intoxicated as he was.

Gently, he took Pyewacket's hand and placed it between his legs, making him feel his growing arousal.

"Then... how about we make each other feel good tonight? Do I... have your consent?"

This pleasure was completely alien to Pyewacket. It coursed from his groin to his brain, the sensational dizziness making his head spin. It was addictive and naturally, he wanted more of it.

He cleared his throat and said, "If it's you, Master, then I've no reason to dissent."