Kev looked over at Talon. The eagle was still sitting ramrod straight in his chair, his hands clasped neatly on the table. His sharp eyes weren't focused on Sterling's impressive display; they were darting around, scanning each face, assessing each movement, his posture still that of a guard on active duty. He looked deeply uncomfortable.
"From the moment I saw him," Fang growled, still looking at the Mafia Don, "I knew he had the... ability to protect Kev... as I would protect him."
Baphomet nodded and cast his judging gaze on Talon once more. "For the human to trust you so, I am pleased to know his words are more than just talk." With a bright jingle of his bell, Baphomet stood and turned towards the windows. "Fang, my son," he said, motioning over his shoulder. "How about we take a walk and talk a bit? Just father to son."
"We can talk here... Pops," Fang said, glancing between Horns and Kev.
Baphomet looked over his shoulder. "I would like to walk your grounds. Your brother, Warlock, has informed me you have marvelous gardens."
Before Fang could question when Warlock had seen the backyard, Kev said, "During the tour."
With a slight sigh, Fang stood and walked around the table. "Let's go, Pops," he said, unlatching the sliding door. "It's still early, so you won't really see any of the action."
"Action?" Baphomet questioned, as he followed Fang outside.
Sterling stood, a slow, uncoiling movement. "I guess I'll be back in a jiff," he drawled, and followed his boss out the sliding door.
Rex had also crossed the room and caught the door just as Sterling tried to gently shut it. "Just get going," he hissed. "Can't believe you spit in my fucking drink."
"My apologies, Mr. Rex," the cobra said, "but the boss calls the shots."
Kev could hear Rex growling that he "wasn't even sitting at the table" as the slider finally shut.
The conservatory was suddenly, unnervingly quiet. The ambient sounds of the club, which had been a low, distant hum, now seemed to have vanished completely. All that remained were the people left at the long table, a strange, eclectic collection of personalities suspended in a moment of silent appraisal. The hanging lanterns cast a warm, soft glow, and the rustle of leaves from the exotic plants was the only sound.
"So what are you?" Nail suddenly asked, staring directly at Kev.
"I'm a human," Kev responded automatically. He hadn't expected the question from the OCD woodpecker-woman, but he had been... conditioned over the past few weeks.
"Duh," Nail said. "Fang and Mr. B said that multiple times, and you made sure to clarify your folktale was a 'human folktale.' We get it. You're a human. I wasn't asking about that. I want to know what you are."
Horns erupted in a sudden, booming peal of laughter.
Feeling a bit attacked and confused, Kev said, "What I am? Every time someone asks that, it's because they don't know I'm human."
"You're human. Oh, wow." Nail sighed and rolled her eyes. "Can we get some new information here? Like, what you are?"
Horns laughed even harder.
Kev took a deep breath and tried to rein himself in. "What do you mean?"
"What do I mean, 'what do I mean'?!" Nail chirped, her voice rising in pitch and speed. She then leaned forward and, with a sharp, forceful motion, pecked at a stray shrimp on her plate, the impact of her beak against the ceramic making the whole table shake.
Horns stopped laughing.
Nail stared at Kev. "Are you a tech guy? A politician? A fucking day trader?"
"Hey," Kick said from across the table, his voice a weary bray. "He's Mr. Fang's partner, right?"
"I KNOW!" Nail pecked her plate once more, the sharp clack echoing in the quiet room. The action seemed to calm her down a little. "We all know that. Come on, Kick. I want to know what this guy's deal is."
"Ha!" A forced, scratchy laugh came from far down the table. Kev leaned forward and saw it came from Bozeman. He'd almost forgotten the chameleon-man was there.
"If you wanted to know Mr. Kev's role," Bozeman said smugly, "you could have just asked me."
"Oh, Boze, buddy," Kick said loudly, "didn't see you there. Weren't you supposed to be writing up the contracts for the jet business?" The donkey-man put his head on his arm and looked back towards Kev, away from the chameleon.
"It's already done," Bozeman muttered. "I'm Fang's lawyer, remember?"
"QUIET!" Nail pecked at her plate and glared at Bozeman. "The human who wants us to know he's a human is trying to tell me himself, so shut up!"
Bozeman's scales shifted rapidly, from a boastful green to a mottled, embarrassed brown. He looked down at the table, his earlier confidence completely gone.
Talon said, his voice a flat, dry statement of fact, "Ms. Nail, pecking is a bad habit."
Kev glanced over at Talon. Really? Right now?
Nail slammed her beak down onto her plate so hard that it split in half with a loud CRACK. She held up one of the jagged ceramic shards. "I have a bad habit of throwing things too!" she chirped, her voice a shrill, angry sound. "So why don't you shut up and let the fucking human talk!"
"I am good at throwing things too," Talon rasped.
"I'm just Fang's assistant," Kev said, leaning over a bit to try and force Nail to look at him. "This isn't my first job, but I'm not rich or famous or anything like that."
"Just an 'assistant'?" Nail questioned, putting the ceramic shard down. "That's vague. Tell me more."
"I just help him with, uh..." Kev's mind scrambled. "...his personal affairs."
"Oh," Nail frowned. "You're one of those."
Kev looked down, the implicit judgment a sharp, stinging slap.
"So tell me, how did you get an application in to someone like Fang without-"
"Oh, Mr. Kev's a great find," Dale jumped in, cutting off the woodpecker before she could cross-examine the human. "He's not from the city, actually. But let's talk about something else." Dale looked down the table and gave Kev a wink. "All he does is talk about being human. What I'd really like to know is..." Dale's voice dropped low. "...can you tell me anything about the big case? It's been all over the news recently."
Kick groaned. "You don't want to talk about humans? I don't want to talk about lawyering."
"Ahh, but that is why we invited you," Warlock grinned. "We need to make sure everything is in order." The otter stopped and looked over at Kev. Holding his hands up, he said, "Now that Fang is my brother, I can tell you." He giggled. "Father is probably telling him right now, but I'm terrible at keeping secrets. Fang is going to be asked to protect the star witness in the case."
"Oh really?!" Dale exclaimed. "Don't tell me... don't tell me... is it Ms. Honey? Oh, don't tell me... but it's her, isn't it?"
"We aren't allowed to talk about it," Nail said.
"It's not Ms. Honey," Kick yawned.
"Oh, damn," Dale said wistfully.
"Was Ms. Honey the guide, or the badger?" Horns asked.
"She's the badger," Bozeman said.
"Oh, damn," Horns echoed wistfully.
"So..." Kev said, feeling extremely left out, "what's the case?" He could only picture some dramatic gang killing or a rival who was snitching.
"The city is sick," Warlock sighed dramatically. "We are merely helping shed light on things that fester."
"It's an important case, Kev," Dale said. "The city has been accused of bias in their hiring processes and what projects are funded. With elections coming up, none of the council members want any bad publicity, and they've been standing together in denial of the charges."
"Yes, they do circle the wagons quickly," Warlock mused. "But our witness was directly affected by the abhorrent crime of being born non-mammal, and they are willing to say that in front of the cameras. So, they must be kept safe until they are called to the stand."
Nail snorted. Kev was surprised; it was a sound he didn't expect from the woodpecker-woman. "The case is already won," she said. "That stubborn mule says we need a sob story for the jury, though."
Dale raised an eyebrow. "The news makes it sound like you are losing."
Ruffling her feathers, Nail squawked, "Because they are dazzled by the councilors' cherry-picked data!"
"We got it," Kick said, a hint of confidence behind his bored affect. "As long as he doesn't forget how to speak or get silenced, we will win."
Was it really that serious? Kev shuddered. It was just a discrimination case. Why would the witness have to fear being killed over something like that? It was serious, but... was it that serious? And wasn't this city on the mammal continent, anyway? It was too confusing to worry about right now.
"So you've got to tell me," Dale said, "who's the witness?"
"Mr. Fang will tell you," Warlock grinned at the horse. "That wolf seems to enjoy feeling in control, doesn't he?"
"Yes," Dale chuckled dryly. "And what about your father? Does Mr. Baphomet enjoy feeling like he is in control?"
Warlock laughed loudly. "He is in control."
Kev asked, "What exactly is Baphomet in control of?" He quickly added, "Sorry for being ignorant, it's just best if I ask."
Warlock nodded and considered for a moment. "Nail, why don't you explain?"
Nail sat up straighter, her sharp eyes flicking to Kev. "The IBM is a globally diversified entity specializing in strategic resource allocation, risk mitigation, and leveraging synergistic opportunities across multiple sectors to ensure optimal market penetration and sustained shareholder value."
The buzzword-filled explanation hung in the air, meaning absolutely nothing.
"I thought we were family now, Warlock," Kev said. "I'm not a lawyer."
Warlock laughed, a genuine, delighted sound. "This one is so much more fun than most."
"We are an organization, Mr. Kev," Warlock spread his arms wide, a grand, theatrical gesture. "A corporation. An empire that spans the globe. And yet, our business is... more like a social club. A very large and well-connected social club with... intense membership policies." His animated hand gestures were a bit distracting. "We feel our primary ethos is noble, species equality, but... most governments do not approve of us. They call us... inflammatory. So, we must be picky about who we let in, thus the complicated admissions process."
Kev did his best to read between the lines. He had a good idea of what the otter was saying, but he also remembered he'd had quite a few misunderstandings since he'd arrived here. Yet, hearing about governments and species equality sparked something in Kev's memory. "Was Fang chosen for the club due to his family history?"
Warlock laughed and said, "Baphomet has mentioned Fang a few times before the application process. He was quite disgusted with the wolf's public outbursts. But it seems like Fang must have just had many idiots cross his path. He has been very much in control since I've met him a few weeks ago."
Kev just nodded. He would have to tell Fang that the therapy sessions with Lanon were paying off… the otter who had been spoon fed by the brown bear did not think the wolf was crazy…