I stopped by a fast food joint first on my way to Vergil’s club, and bought three large burgers and a few orders of fries. My bags in hand, I drove the rest of the way to the club and pulled into the parking lot, where I sat back and started eating.

  There was a double purpose to it, not the least of which being I knew Sigyn had invited plenty of half-ones to her party. I’d forgotten lunch, but even more important than that stuffing myself full would make me more unlikely to have intrusive thoughts. If I had a full stomach, I couldn’t think about eating, I couldn’t think about eating half-ones.

  I ate the first two burgers and fries without much issue, and the third on a stomach that didn’t particularly want them. My drink helped it down though and even if I felt like I was going to throw up that was a good thing. As sick as I might have felt, I was unlikely to think about eating for the rest of the night.

  Once I finished eating I drove the rest of the way to the club, found a parking spot near the door and started into the building. In the growing shadows of the evening the ghost fires of Richmond burned nearby, visible only to me as they gave a soft blue glow to the skyline. The thick smells of thousands of humans and cars coating the air, on top of the nearby James River’s stink in this section of the city.

  Dante’s Inferno was built into what once had been a warehouse decades before I was born. A four story tall building of brick and mortar, it had long ago been converted into a club by its owner. The windows were black, one way structures meant to stop the interior lights showing out, and the only sign of its status was a neon red sign with the club's name in neon and a small chalkboard that read Costume Night: 9:30 to Closing. Midnight Contest.

  A bouncer stood outside, a half-one that smelled vaguely like sweat and used gym equipment. He leaned against the door frame, smoking an acrid smelling cigarette as he looked up to me with a sigh and head shake of disappointment. The man deciding to not even check his clipboard for the birthday guests, having seen me too many times before, and merely gesturing me in as he went back to enjoying the city air.

  I made my way up the spiral staircase through the building, to the third floor of the club that was a primarily seating area. Dozens of tables and booths scattered about, a bar with seats, and a currently empty stage all normally lit by dim red light. For tonight’s party, the light was an annoyingly white tone, and there were well over two dozen people in the room, more than I’d been expecting.

  A buffet of food was laid out on a table in the center, alongside drinks of various sorts and a large cake. People had gathered largely into groups and I noticed, with no small amount of horror, there were maybe only five people there I knew or who were not human. Tara, Andrew, and Knives all sat in a group at one table, and Vergil stood on a corner talking to one of his friends, Catherine.

  Well, I had no fucking idea if Veril and Catherine were supernatural, but I wasn’t going to be surprised. Vergil always gave a strange air when I found him around, and all his friends seemed similar.

  I stood at the edge of the party at first, unsure of what I was supposed to do or how I was supposed to even join in. Sigyn had invited me, even said she wanted me to meet a friend of hers, and I wasn’t really sure what that meant. Did I go looking for her? Did I just walk around until she found me? What was the protocol for attending this sort of party?

  The thoughts were still circling my mind when I saw Tara rise from her spot and walk over to me, smiling as she looked my costume over with no small amount of pride. She was relatively tall, only a few inches shorter than me, and her long blonde hair was hung loose around her shoulders. Her costume made up of a black leotard she wore with fishnets and a leather jacket for some character I could have sworn should have looked familiar.

  “Oh, you are looking perfect,” the werewolf told me, almost annoyingly beaming with pride at having me dressed like this, “I told you, Red Riding Hood is sexy.”

  “I guess?” I said, shaking my head as I looked down at myself, “I wanted to be kinda scary. Scary costumes are fun.”

  “Mary, you scare people all the time,” Tara said, rolling her eyes as she rested her hands on my shoulders, “come on, don’t act like we don’t notice how you’ve been lately. Out half the time, coming in late at night. You’re either sleeping around or got someone I don’t know about, and either way I’m gonna help you out. Everyone goes crazy for a girl dressed like Red Riding Hood, trust me.”

  “It’s really not either of those things,” I said, even as I didn’t want to actually explain. Tara looked ready to question it, and I said, “either way you might be getting your wish. Your niece is wanting me to meet someone, and how she was talking I’m thinking she’s trying to set us up despite my protests.”

  “Probably, but I wouldn’t count on it,” Tara admitted, letting out an almost defeated sigh at the thought, “trust me, apparently only Vergil knew just how many people she was bringing around and this isn’t because a bunch of people she didn’t know got invited. I think I was forced to fucking meet everyone that came in this room, and hear about what class they’re in with her or where they met.”

  “Well, I can hope,” I giggled, half covering my mouth at the thought, “not exactly in the mood for dating just yet. Besides, I have a…meeting, I need to get to later tonight.”

  “God, you’re always so fucking busy lately,” Tara said, rolling her eyes as she threw an arm around my shoulders, “I couldn’t stand Misha, but he only ever seemed to work when he was actually needed for something. Does she have something out for you or something?”

  “Just been taking on some side work,” I brushed off, forcing a small smile even as I was led to her pack. “I can’t keep borrowing people’s cars forever, I need to get something of my own eventually. Nothing big or dangerous, just some quick one night jobs every now and again.”

  Tara shook her head, looking like she was about to say something before simply declaring, “please be careful.”

  Andrew and Knives sat in a booth together, and Tara joined next to her boyfriend as I stood awkwardly by them. Knives, a shorter werewolf with close cut blonde hair, they wore a costume mostly made up of a long green coat with fur around the neck and a gold-colored tiara with two horns. Andrew was taller, with medium length brown hair and a thin beard, and he wore something I thought might have been supposed to be Robin Hood.

  “Where’s Basil?” I asked, noticing the missing member of their group immediately.

  “Resting,” Andrew said, giving a small laugh at the fact, “took him on an obstacle course for the first time, he’s wanting to learn how to fight.”

  “He broke most of his ribs,” Knives said with a bit more grace for the missing man, “he dropped a car engine on his chest while trying to run around in wolf form.”

  “Never seen a werewolf have that much trouble feeling natural in their wolf form,” Tara added in, shaking her head in disbelief at the fact, “he’s not much better with the human form though. I tried teaching him some basic self defense shit and he couldn’t get any of it.”

  “I could try teaching him,” I offered with a small shrug, “I mean, I know a bit about fighting in different forms, could be good for him.”

  Knives looked up at me in confusion a moment, slowly asking, “why the fuck do you know- right, Purist, forgot.”

  Andrew gave a small chuckle, shaking his head at the thought, and he asked me, “you sure you know how to fight, Cannibal? Like, I don’t doubt you’ve fought, but catching someone off guard or knowing how to fight in groups is different.”

  “Purist combat training is pretty structured,” I said, taking a look around to make sure no one could hear us, “works really well as a werewolf, easy to learn, I could probably get him to be at least a decent fighter.”

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  “I don’t know…” Knives said, frowning as they looked down to the ground, “let me think about it, I’ll ask Basil what he thinks.”

  “Just let me know, I don’t mind doing it,” I said, giving a comforting smile.

  “Now either way,” Tara started, sitting up as she gestured over to me, “come on, can we agree Mary looks amazing?”

  “I look fucking ridiculous,” I said, loosely pulling at the hem of my short skirt, “no one’s scared of Red Riding Hood.”

  “It’s called looking sexy, you don’t need to be scary for a costume party” Tara told me, reaching up to poke my nose with a giggle, “go on, show it off to Vergil he’ll agree.”

  I didn’t even question why she thought I’d want to look good for Vergil, but I nodded and pushed through the crowd of people gathered. Vergil was in one corner, his back turned to the crowd as he talked up Catherine, wearing a slim pink dress with a translucent white robe over it and what I hoped was a fake rapier. Vergil was dressed with a red leather coat that came to his knees, his gray hair untamed as always, and I wasn’t guessing what either was as I walked behind the man.

  “Anyway, so I tell the agents I need four parachutes,” Vergil was starting, before I tapped his shoulder, “oh hey how’s it- Jesus fuck!” he yelled, surprising me as he nearly fell to the ground trying to turn himself about and back up at the same time. He nearly collapsed into Catherine, and the woman had to hold him up as he yelled, “don’t fucking sneak up on me like that, Mary! Fuck, that scared me.”

  I stood there in shocked silence for several seconds, not sure what the fuck had gotten that reaction out of him even as the man tried adjusting himself. He let out a half-hearted chuckle, rubbing his heart nervously a moment, and stood strong like it had been a joke. Not a handsome man, Vergil looked wild and dirty as usual and smelled vaguely of wet dog, even if he somehow looked muscular and youthful looking despite his gray hair. The unkempt and knotted mess falling past his shoulders, and between that and his lightly-kept goatee it was a surprise he looked close to my age, if he were actually human.

  “How’re you doing?” He finally asked, forcing a nervous laugh as he rubbed the back of his head.

  “I’m fine,” I said slowly, looking the man up and down in confusion, “I…sorry I scared you?”

  “It’s fine, not the first Red Riding Hood that scared me tonight,” the man muttered with a shake of his head; stopping a moment before quickly justifying it, “long story, bad experience with an ex-girlfriend. I got locked in a crematorium oven.”

  “Understood,” I said, furrowing my brow as I tilted my head at her, “I…okay, I guess. Tara just thought I should get your opinion on the costume. I thought it was just silly.”

  “Oh, no, you look good in it,” Vergil tried comforting me immediately, frowning as he looked over it once more, “maybe lose the cloak…. Definitely lose the cloak, that would be good looking.”

  “Right,” I said, sighing as I looked down to the ground, “Thanks for doing all of this at least, I owe you big time for it. You know if that competition is still up tonight at least? You never got back to me about if you got me in on the action, I could use the stress-relief.”

  “I thought you were doing it for the extra money,” the man said with a small amount of judgment, even as he nodded and pulled a card from his pocket he passed over to me. “I got you a spot though, they heard about how you did last month. I also placed your bet for you, though you're taking a lot of risk for a couple thousand dollars in payoff.”

  “Is it really a question if I win or not?” I asked, raising an eyebrow questioningly at the man.

  He shook his head, taking a final look around before he leaned in on me, whispering in my ear, “it’s a risk if anyone notices why you’re winning, and if you get found out you know I can’t protect you from what could happen.”

  “I’m not going to be found out,” I whispered back, forcing a small smile as I heard footsteps quickly approaching.

  Sigyn smelled like a mixture of perfume and weed underneath her usual scents, and I smelled someone else with her. Tuning to face them, I was greeted by two half-ones wearing the first costumes I recognized this party, even if it was a… confusing couples costume.

  Sigyn was almost a twin for her aunt, if it weren’t for their completely different fashion senses. Only tonight forgoing her normal goth outfits with Sigyn wearing a pair of dark blue jeans, simple shoes, and a light blue turtleneck sweater, with her makeup light and her blonde and purple streaked hair gelled up. Not looking like much of a costume until I looked to the person next to her.

  Her friend, a half-one I hadn’t seen before, was wearing a costume though it also decidedly felt less creative than mine. She wore her black hair loose around her, and was wearing a Garfield onesie and a pair of cat ears that matched her hair surprisingly well. I barely had time to take her in before Sigyn wrapped an arm around her and declared, “Mary, I want you to meet my girlfriend, Lucy.”

  “Oh, nice to meet you,” I said, awkwardly offering my hand which the woman took for a moment, “is this the friend you want me to meet?”

  “Oh, no, Barbie’s over here,” Sigyn said, immediately reaching out to grab my arm, “can’t fucking believe you wore that though. Completely ruined the joke I was going for when I recommended her costume.”

  I nodded, not sure what was going on even as I was dragged through the club, and all I could ask was, “what?”

  “Don’t worry about it, she’s a friend of mine Lucy met her while studying,” Sigyn brushed me off, giving a small giggle, “she’s really nice, one of the art students, is into old clothes like you. She was talking about needing a unique looking model though for one of her projects, and I knew you’d be perfect.”

  “I’m not a good model,” I said, a sudden bit of fear shooting through me, “Sigyn what did you sign me up for? I can’t be an art model, I do not look good enough for that.”

  “Oh, come on, Mary, it’s not like it’s a nude model thing,” Sigyn told me, rolling her eyes as she only stopped for a brief moment, “at least, I don’t think it is. If it is though you definitely should, I’d like to see that.”

  “You haven’t even seen my arms, I have too many scars for that.”

  “Girls like scars,” Sigyn said, poking my nose and making me wonder if the gesture ran in the family. Eventually we came to a new booth, this one empty except for another half-one, and the sight almost made me laugh.

  Sigyn’s friend was average height, if a little thin, though not near as bad as I had been until recently. Her blonde hair was long, coming around her shoulders in heavy curls I couldn’t imagine being easy to manage, and that contrasted with her green eyes. She smelled like apples and paint, with her own smell underneath it, and had an almost uncannily soft curve to her features.

  That wasn’t what caught my attention though, nor what made me almost laugh. Not even that her lips were painted a shade of red that made me think of blood, which I liked very much. No, the best part of this all was that she, to my humor, was dressed in a revealing red riding hood costume, with a sketchpad in her lap and wooden box of fancy looking pencils beside her.

  “Mary, this is Barbie. Barbie, this is my friend Mary I was telling you about,” Sigyn said, not even waiting for either of us to say anything before declaring, “I’ll leave you two to it. Have fun, big bad wolf,” and she walked away from us.

  I stood there in silence for a long moment, not sure what I was supposed to do as I awkwardly shifted in place. A part of me ready to walk away before Barbie awkwardly smiled at me and said, “I’m Barbara, you don’t need to call me Barbie unless you want — it’s just an old nickname.”

  “What would you prefer?” I asked, shrugging as I tried glancing at her drawing, seeing a sketch of the club that looked surprisingly well done.

  Barbie hid it from me as she noticed me looking, awkwardly moving her cloak to cover it as she muttered, “it works. I…sorry, I’m a little weird around new people.”

  “If it makes you feel better my social skills are like a rock,” I said, after some deliberation sitting across from her in the booth. I wasn’t feeling very social tonight, and there was a good chance someone in Tara’s pack would ask me about my plans later if I went there. This was, ironically, probably my best bet at avoiding needing to talk to anyone, all things considered, “No complaints if I sit here?”

  “None,” the woman said, smiling at me as she turned to a new page, and that was it.

  We sat there in silence for a couple of hours, neither of us doing anything in particular as she drew something and I watched the crowd. Occasionally she would switch out her pencils, or pull a small paper cylinder from her box she’d rub on the paper, and occasionally I would check my phone. Eventually Sigyn brought us two slices of cake, both of us having seemed to miss everyone calling to come sing as we zoned out.

  Not that either of us actually felt like changing what we were doing after that, and both of us just idly picked at our plates until we found them empty.

  I waited until Vergil rose to the stage, announcing they’d be needing to clear the food soon in preparation for the club opening. He said something more, something about getting your hand stamped if sticking around, and I ignored it as I slowly rose to my feet.

  “I need to head out soon,” I said awkwardly, like we’d said any words at all to one another, “I have this thing, it starts in a couple hours, I need to swing by the house and change for it. You know?”

  “I understand, I need to get home before my dad starts worrying” Barbie said, rising to her feet herself. She looked at me a final time, and wrote one final thing on the page she was working on before she ripped it out and passed it over. I furrowed my brow a moment, and before I could look at the paper she said, “You’re very pretty, please call,” and scurried off.

  I watched after her, and as she started down the spiral staircase I turned the paper over to see what she had been working on. The lights of the club granting me a view of the pencil sketch of myself from the waist up, in my costume smiling and looking forward. It was beautiful, almost life-like in the detail, and in the corner was written Barbara Ricardo and a phone number.

  A laugh escaped my throat at the sight, and I shook my head even as I walked toward the staircase myself, stopping by the trash can nearby. There I went to toss the picture, and paused as I had it halfway through the opening.

  Something stopped me, a strange feeling, and after several seconds I let out a sigh and took another long look at the picture as I went down the stairs.

  Maybe modeling for some art wouldn’t be that bad.