Desmond was perfectly aware that his boss was doing something Desmond himself had advised against. The Boss had laughed at him, telling Desmond it was none of his business.

“Rizzo, you know it’s a bad idea placing Shen in such a position. He despises you. What if he turns on you - on us all? His heart hangs in between the realms of Above and Below. Toying with him would be dangerous.” Desmond attempted to reason with him.

The silver-haired demon replied, “As much as I appreciate your input, I honestly don’t give a damn. I will have my way, Desmond. If I have to use them as pawns against the others, so be it. I’m sick of those pesky holy beings stuffing their righteousness and glory into the human race. They don’t believe in a balance of good and evil. Guess what? Neither do I.”

“Rizzo…”

Rizzo waved his hand, signaling Desmond to cease speaking.

“I’ll sway Shen. I can deliver him plenty of incentive. Just you wait and see.”

It was no use. Desmond knew Rizzo was making a huge mistake. Desmond knew the wrath of The Others and what would happen if Rizzo used others to get at them. All Desmond could do was sit back and let it unfold.

Neon lights outside a nightclub illuminated the black sky of the city. Girls in short skirts and halter tops waited in line, herded together like rainbow-colored sheep. The shepherd was an daunting man with triceps the size of a normal person’s head.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t let you in. We’re filled to capacity,” the bouncer told three young women, whose dejected faces could not sway the bouncer’s stone face.

“I don’t believe it!” one of the girls exclaimed. “We could have gone to the movies instead, but no! This really sucks.”

“You were the one who wanted to come here,” her friend replied.

“If only there was a way we could get in,” a third girl chimed in.

“Excusez-moi,” a raspy male voice spoke from behind. “Pardon.”

The girls stood in awe of the long-legged figure cloaked in cerulean shimmer. He pushed his way past the girls who could only stare at the back of his head as he made his way toward the front of the line.

“Who is he?” one of the girls whispered to her friend, who simply shrugged. “He sounds French. I bet he’s hot!”

“I don’t know how he thinks he’ll be let into the club,” the third friend wondered aloud. “If that bouncer doesn’t let cute girls in, there is no way that guy will be allowed entrance.”

The girls stood on their tiptoes to catch another glimpse of the Frenchman, but he had already slipped inside the club doors.