Chapter 14 Illegal Baking Mob
ILLEGAL BAKING MOB
Rosalind
Rosalind’s checklist seemed to have gotten longer overnight, which was the last thing she needed this close to the fundraiser. The mounting pressure for everything to be perfect had all but negated the effects of Davarox’s massage the other night.
At least the air outside was enough to clear her head, even if her fingers continued to tremble and her overworking heart lingered in her throat.
Symptoms of a panic attack that hadn’t fully settled, even after Mozke all but shoved her out of the building to stop her from hiding in another storage closet until it passed. If it passed.
Gods, she needed to shut her brain off. Lazerath could help. He probably wouldn’t mind if she knocked on his door today, desperate for a distraction. He’d sweep her inside, make her tea, probably shove some cookies at her to try, then aggressively cuddle her on the couch.
Then she’d sit there worrying that she wasn’t doing anything, unable to enjoy Laz’s company when it wasn’t even his fault, and her checklist sure wasn’t going to complete itself. Plus, it was his day off. Certainly there were better things he could be doing with his time.
With Lovable Loaf being closed and not a place she could hide out, Rose checked in on the other girls, even from a distance. No sense worrying them by making it obvious how often she’d been receiving reports on everyone’s well-being.
All were getting along in their own ways. Aofe even had a new fluffy creature to keep her company, though it appeared Kizros was keeping just as close an eye on her as the giant silver fox.
That made Rosalind feel better, at least marginally, for being such a horrible friend.
In all her rush to find them places to live and be safe, she’d never really…
connected with any of them. Just shoved them off to other demon sponsors to figure it out themselves.
Worst of all, she was still actively avoiding Ember, knowing the guilt of failing the woman in Ankerick was probably better to deal with when she wasn’t so close to a heart attack.
There would be a day—maybe not nineteen days after they’d found themselves in a demon city, but some day in the future—when everything would settle.
When their lives would ease into routine in their new home, there would be time to bond over something that wasn’t the horrible circumstances that brought six women into the forest of demons they’d once feared.
But one good thing had come from her early work in finding sponsors, and as she stared at the building for sale in front of her, she really could see it. Demonlights bright and twinkling, shelves full, energy matching that of the district around it. Art that was alive—literally.
Rosalind didn’t know how Kizros had learned about her proposal, but his letter had been encouraging.
Asking her about the currently unoccupied space and whether it would be a good focal point for her presentation and plans for revitalizing the district.
Offering his help and backing if it would make a difference.
She wasn’t sure if she should be flattered or terrified that he’d made it clear he would only work with her on the idea.
Probably both, but the latter was winning out today.
Still, there was a hope in the empty space.
One that the green demon could no doubt fill with his charming smiles and kind heart.
A real chance at making this proposal stick.
Rose made a few notes in the margins of her parchment—just observations, not another mile-long list of things to do. Okay, maybe one more thing, but Dav’s voice was whispering in the back of her mind, so she limited herself to a very detailed note.
She tucked the quill into her bag, regretting not bringing a snack along.
But she was in the art district, and what better way to understand the very place she was hoping to support than with their food?
Home to her had always centered around meals and maybe that was part of the magic she could highlight.
Rosalind had just located a restaurant with a bright yellow facade and a painted image in the window that looked a bit like Papa’s dumplings when she did a double take.
Davarox.
At least, she thought it was him. He’d turned down the small side street and out of sight before she could confirm. Not in a rush, but at a clip that told Rose he had somewhere to be.
But… she could say hello. See if he was interested in getting lunch with her.
There was that small detail about the bakery ledger she’d thought of, but she’d only ask if it came up naturally.
Obviously, it was fine if he had other things to do, but just a quick interaction would really soothe the lingering effects of her earlier panic.
Rose changed directions, hurrying down the street to try to catch him and dodging the flow of demons headed in the other direction. As she turned the corner, she caught a glimpse of his tail just before it disappeared inside a doorway.
She slowed as she neared, glancing up to the painted sign that had symbols like the rune bracelet on her wrist. A language she couldn’t read to decipher what was inside, particularly with the entirely brick facade and dark wooden door with no window.
Hesitating, she considered her options. Maybe it was a small shop, and she could have conveniently been planning on stopping here. Or she could turn around and go back to her boring day.
Then again, it’s not like Davarox would be upset to see her. She was… fairly certain about that.
Decision made, Rosalind took a fortifying breath and stepped inside.
To an empty room.
Well, empty of demons. There was an open door in the back and a few shelves lining the walls of the shop, wares ranging from clothing to glass figurines to framed art.
She frowned at the painting of a seven-legged creature clinging to the edge of the Aldgate Scar with hang in there in looping script at the bottom.
As odd as everything was, the strangest part was that in this small space, there was no sign of Dav. Rose crept toward the back, where she found an empty counter with a stool next to the darkened beyond.
“Hello?” she said quietly, then a little louder, “Anyone?”
Maybe it wasn’t the most polite to go snooping around, but now Rose was curious. She was fairly certain she hadn’t imagined seeing Dav, and even more certain this was the shop he’d gone into, so it would make sense that he’d be in the back.
So into the back she went.
It wasn’t much different than the front—a few leaning shelves that were mostly empty—but there was a well-worn path made by feet and tails that led to a closed door.
Not the door that clearly led toward the back alley, but the one that didn’t make logical sense against a wall that should have gone into the neighboring building.
A building Rosalind had been quite sure was boarded up and closed.
Hesitantly, she wrapped her hand around the knob.
“This is fine,” she whispered to herself. “Dav’s in here and everything is going to be fine. He’s not in the middle of some illegal baking deal or demon cult or—”
No. He was not cheating on her.
She took one more fortifying breath before pushing the door open. A staircase greeted her, lit with demonlights of several different colors illuminating the empty path down. Muffled sound echoed its way up, telling her she’d at least gone in the right direction.
Despite knowing demons had good enough hearing to be aware of someone approaching, Rosalind still snuck down the wooden staircase, trying and failing to rationalize what might be down here that would require Davarox to be so secretive about it.
Then again, there were a lot of things that Dav seemed to be secretive about, or at least extra cautious about when Rosalind was around.
Hells, even when Laz was around. They’d ask about his previous evening, and he’d shrug and give less than ten words about doing nothing.
He’d been caught dozing at his worktable a few times, which Laz said wasn’t so much out of the ordinary but worried him all the same.
And then there were the few times over the last week that Rose had been working with him on their ledger and asked about a mismatched sum. Those were the times when Davarox really shut down and dismissed it. Blamed it on his own forgetfulness to record sales and tips.
The demon who counted sprinkles and could measure simply by looking at a pile of sugar forgot about tips.
Sure, Dav.
Rosalind still hadn’t come up with some theory as to why Davarox would risk himself and Laz, even the business, when she made it to the bottom of the staircase.
“Another fucking door?”
Criminal baking mob was starting to look more and more plausible, but she’d come this far, and it would be a waste to turn around and confront him about this later.
Rosalind pulled it open and stepped inside the last place she’d ever guess.
Sultry music echoed in the dimly lit space, murmurs of conversations hitting her ears but indecipherable. All she could see was the hint of colored demonlight beyond a dark curtain and a demon hunched over the counter separating their room from the one beyond.
“Welcome to Temptation,” they said, lifting their chin. The quill in their hand dropped, their eyes widening. “Oh, fuck.”
They stretched to full height, a stunning display of long and thin limbs.
Much taller than Laz, but their skin was a deeper green than Kizros’s, like the moss that could be found in a human forest. That was also an apt description, because the color was only in small patches across their skin—over one eye and cheek, their arms, and a small sliver of skin at their neck—while the rest was gray.
Their hair was so dark, almost a deep green or black, except for a small patch of white behind horns that looked like smaller versions of a human-realm buck.
Rosalind was staring, probably for too long to be appropriate considering the gray demon was now squirming in their stance, giving wary glances toward the curtain.
Then, with a warbled voice, they said, “You’re in the wrong place.”
She snapped her attention back to the demon’s face, brow pinching at the way they’d pitched their voice.
“Did you just… pretend to be a ghost?”
They cocked their head. “What’s a—” Immediately they straightened and tried again. “I mean, yes! I am a whatever you just said.” Catching her unamused glare, their shoulders sank and they returned to a level pitch. “Alright, whatever. But you can’t be here.”
“Why not?”
What she really wanted to say was that she had no idea where here really was. Temptation, they’d said, but she didn’t know a business under that name. Which might have just proved her point that Dav was participating in some illegal bakery dealings.
The green and gray demon gestured to her. “Well, for one, the rune doesn’t disguise you.”
“What rune?”
“The one at the entran—” they said, before snapping their mouth shut. “Oh, shit, I said too much again.”
Rosalind could feel the panic creeping up her throat. She did not like unknowns. She didn’t like not knowing something. And right now, she was about five seconds from that cluelessness taking over and needing to find a supply closet.
“Look,” she said with about as much bravado as she could manage.
“The demon who just came in. I need to see—” She almost gave Dav away, but at the last moment remembered this demon mentioning the runes disguised entrants.
Even if they knew who she was, they didn’t know about Dav. “I need to see them.”
They shook their head. “Look, I’m sure you do, but demons pay a lot of coin to remain unknown here. I can’t just let a human immune to the illusion inside.”
“And I’m sure you’d pay a lot of money to keep this secret from reaching the wrong ears in city hall?”
Oh, that caught their attention. “Our business isn’t illegal.”
“Operating under a business license with a different name and description of operations is.”
Their eyes narrowed, but that was a small smile tipping the corner of their lips. “Well, humans are certainly smarter than our stories made you to be.”
Rose wasn’t going to inform them she still hadn’t quite figured out what was going on behind the curtain.
“What’s your business with the demon who just came in?”
“Personal.”
That seemed to amuse them significantly more than she’d assumed. “Well, that’s a lot more interesting. You should lead with that next time.”
There would definitely not be a next time, Rosalind thought, but the demon thrust their hand toward her. “Haven’t had good drama here in a while, so this will be fun. But I’m going to need your word that Temptation and its patrons remain a secret, no matter what you find beyond that curtain.”
Rosalind stared at their outstretched hand. “I thought you said what you did wasn’t illegal.”
“You can have your friend explain what that illusion rune does, but it’s designed for demons, not humans.”
“I’m not disguised,” she confirmed, then connected the missing piece. “So demons aren’t disguised to me either. Privacy.”
The demon clicked their tongue and wiggled their hand again as a reminder. “Smart.”
Except… what sort of non-illegal things were demons doing that required privacy?
Something that had Rosalind throwing caution to the wind as she shook the demon’s hand.
Satisfied, they swept around their desk and grabbed a portion of the curtain, giving her a smile that rivaled the sultry music that seemed to get louder. “Welcome, human, to Temptation. May you find exactly what you’re looking for.”
In that moment, she couldn’t name what it was she wanted besides finding Dav, but stepping inside?
For all the lists and theories Rosalind had prepared herself for, the inside of Temptation was not some underground bakery ring with secret recipes that could never fall into enemy hands. Demons were scattered around the inside—on couches and tables, platforms and stages.
And cages.
Not an oven in sight.
No, Temptation was definitely not what she would have guessed.
It was a sex club.
Rosalind was standing in a demon sex club.