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Drunk humans were always effortless. Especially late in a town with tourists around every corner, unfamiliar with their surroundings and all too trusting. And Silas was starving. After almost a week of not feeding, the cubi would have tried for just about anyone but this at least took less energy. Which, if he was being honest, didn’t have much to spare. The trek just to get to Styx felt like decades and each group of foreigners had him salivating. With a quick slip, Silas could cause one of them to stagger far away enough from their friends that they wouldn’t have noticed for blocks. That could give him plenty of time, but his feet kept hitting the pavement forward.

A small line still hung outside of the club, one of which Silas knew he would never have to wait in and couldn’t help a snicker. He gave the bouncer a gentle nod before bypassing the threshold into the booming melodies. A regular at his shop, his wife had requested a custom bookshelf not even a year back and the access had helped Silas immensely. Strokes of red and purple added an aura to the cubi that in daylight, he frankly didn’t possess. Maybe it also had something to do with the hunger and he quickly found himself perched at the bar top, scanning the crowd before requesting a cocktail. It was a simple cover, but that was all it took for most humans to think he was simply one of them.

@kasandrarosales​