At Your Service

Chapter 42- Confident

 After putting concealer on their sigils and getting dressed for the night (although, if Ansel had to be frank, it was definitely more of an undressing), Carlisle transported them both from the mansion right to the area in which Ashley's club was located. They were both wearing trench coats over themselves so they were covered and warm in the wintery night wind. If this didn't make them look strange enough, they were both wearing lipstick and eye makeup. Ansel's black stilettos and blue velvet socks peeked out from underneath the coat, as did Carlisle's black leather boots and pants. He had the invitation from Ashley in one of the pockets of the coat. Their hands were in their pockets, except Carlisle had an arm weaved through Ansel's and held their hand in the pocket it was in.

"All right, let's see your eyes glow," Carlisle whispered. The night around them was quiet besides the wind whispering through the alleyways and streets.

It was one of the most ridiculous things they'd ever heard Carlisle say. "Excuse me?"

Carlisle's eyes suddenly glowed red violet for a moment before fading away again. "You can do it, too, now."

Ansel shook their head. "I'll do it if it comes to that... I'm sure I'll figure it out." They walked in silence.

"So, we go get permitted entrance, and you be your usual sexy, confident self," Ansel rolled their eyes, "and we get to the angels, and you distract the wife long enough for me to kill Ashley, and then we'll take on the wife together." Ansel nodded with understanding. "I love you."

Ansel squeezed the demon's hand. "I love you, too." He paused a few seconds. "Did it hurt?"

Carlisle's expression fell flat. "Did what hurt?"

The witch smirked. "Did it hurt when you broke through the earth's crust and ascended from Hell?"

Carlisle did not answer, remaining silent and glaring at the self-satisfied witch. "How long have you been waiting to say that one?"

Ansel pursed his lips to contain a smile. "A few days. I almost cried myself dry when I thought of it."

Carlisle squeezed Ansel's hand back, his thumb gliding back and forth over the back of Ansel's hand. "I've got the feeling that they'll love you here, and I am unsettled by the thought."

The witch chuckled. "I'm afraid of that, myself."

Carlisle suddenly guided them both into an alley, taking an unexpected turn. There was only a red lightbulb hanging above a door to what appeared to be an abandoned building guarded by two men, but, somehow, Ansel knew they were demons; they felt a tingling in their fingers, though they could have been mistaking it for nerves and adrenaline. They stopped in front of the two. Carlisle pulled out the invitation and handed it to one of the guards.

"Your last name's 'Lomen' now, eh?" the demon reading the invitation chuckled. Carlisle nodded. "You were... what, a Faulkner the last time I saw you here?"

"Names change fast as a demon," Carlisle chuckled.

"Ans... Ansel Vandiver?" The witch demon nodded. "I thought you were a witch."

"I was," Ansel murmured, "but a soul like mine was irresistible to him." They side glanced at Carlisle, who nodded ever so slightly so the other demons would not take notice, with a smirk.

"Indeed," the demon butler purred. Ansel suddenly feared for their soul for when it returned; Carlisle sounded a little too convincing and looked a little too menacing, awash in dim red light just as he'd been when possessing his master.

The other demon opened the door for the two. "Have a dark night."

"Thank you," the butler and witch said simultaneously. Carlisle squeezed their hand before they both entered the building, only total darkness ahead of them. Only when they'd crossed through the doorway were they suddenly assaulted by loud, bass-heavy music and purple, green, and blue neon light bulbs hanging from the ceiling, threatening to bump Carlisle's head.

"How did that happen?" Ansel thought and was startled to hear their own voice in their head, only distorted and low, though not as low as Carlisle's true voice.

"The powers of Ashley and his wife combined must be able to conceal this place from the outside world, making it appear an abandoned, private building," the powerful true voice of Carlisle responded in their head. "Even if humans managed to enter from the front or the other side, they would still only find nothing, as if this were another dimension." He chuckled out loud, though he could barely be heard over the music. "To be quite frank, I am not certain this isn't another dimension."

They walked into what appeared to Ansel a large makeup room. There were pegs for coats just outside the room on the wall, where the two demons hung up their coats. Despite their lack of clothes, it was far too warm inside for Ansel to feel cold. They entered the room and immediately got attention. "CARLISLE!" several demons called out in excitement as they rushed forwards. "A newbie, too! Someone alert Mr. Waldren!"

"Oh, he already knows we're here," Carlisle purred as he shook some hands.

Ansel was just as surrounded as demons examined the witch, touching their hands and hair. "We don't get many witch demons around here!" one exclaimed in awe. Demons were passing around shot glasses of different alcoholic drinks; Ansel received a shot of cranberry vodka and Carlisle acquired pineapple tequila. They both drank them before they were given more.

"The boss knows!" One demon shouted just as sirens began wailing throughout the building, and an eruption of cheering came from somewhere.

"Oh, shit," Ansel's thoughts screamed.

"This is procedure," Carlisle assured his master silently. "We're about to be escorted to the stage." As if on cue, the demons shoved them out of the room and back into the hallway. They were being led towards the end of it, which had a heavy black curtain hanging; a rainbow of coloured lights slipped beneath and made little kaleidoscopes on the black tile floor. "Here we go," Carlisle muttered out loud as they were suddenly shoved through the curtain.

The crowd was entirely made of angels, all of their white feathered wings exposed, and Ansel had the most unnaturally intense urge to kill them all. Coloured lights coming from seemingly nowhere danced across the stage, some of them strobing, casting the audience in darkness. The stage was black and in the shape of an S, sleek metal poles spaced out evenly on it. The tables for the patrons were on platforms risen up from the floor but unevenly, so some tables were more raised than others. In the far back were two thrones in each corner. One occupant was clearly and unmistakably Ashley, who sat in the far right corner. His wife could not be seen, because that throne was encircled in a luxurious red velvet curtain, only cracked open for the occupant to see and no one else to see into.

Ashley waved to the two with a devilish smirk on his face as he raised a microphone to his lips. "Esteemed guests, may I present to you one of our most treasured assets, returning for the first time in years and for the last time, until I invite him again," the guests roared with laughter, "CARLISLE LOMEN!" Every light turned red and became still, casting Ansel back into the memory of possession. Carlisle walked down the stage, shirtless and in heeled boots and black leather pants, wearing the most devious smirk of his whole life. He strutted down the stage's curves like he'd done it thousands of times before with his arms outstretched as if he were drinking up their deafening cheers and screams of joy. When he reached the final pole on the stage, he clung to it and hauled himself up to the top of the pole with ease before hooking his legs around it, letting go with his hands, and letting himself slowly slide down, spinning as he descended. He received thunderous applause. When he reached the bottom, he naturally came to a casual pose on his side, propping his head up with his hand and his elbow resting on the floor.

When he stood, he bowed graciously, catching a white rose someone had thrown at him in his mouth. He walked back in the same manner, taking the rose out from his teeth and handing it to Ansel as he passed while saying, "It's time for your introduction." He stood off to the side, waiting to watch.

"Now, dear guests, I have the pleasure of presenting a new dancer tonight! He can do a thousand different tricks on you and have power to spare to cast a spell and set a blaze to, well, wherever you want the fire." Whistles, laughs, and claps filled the club. Ansel's anger and bitterness skyrocketed. "But fire is cold where it touches him, because he is the witch of witches, the king of magic, queen of the dance, and fire to our hearts and our loins: ANSELLLLL VANDIVERRRR!!!!"