Chapter Text
Kaz walked out to the front of the house, where the crew was still doing the last of the set-up for the fashion show. He spotted Charles standing next to Lexy and Gottlieb’s bar and walked over to them. Kaz folded his arms on top of the bar and placed his head on top of them as he sat down, with a particularly emotive sigh. He dropped the list he was holding onto the bar, right in front of Herbert, who he had totally failed to notice was sitting next to him. “I should have known better than to trust Arcangelo!”
Lexy and Gottlieb exchanged looks. “I mean, I hate to say ‘I told you so,’ but I did tell you so,” Lexy said.
“Hey, don’t even trip dog,” Gottlieb said, putting a caprese cocktail down in front of him. “It’s not on you. East Siders are the worst.”
Herbert and Charles exchanged looks as well, but of a much more distressed variety. “Oh no! Say it isn’t so, Mr. Kaan!” Herbert said. His tone was somewhere between disappointed and angry. “I’d waited years for the two of you to become friends. It simply can’t be over so quickly!”
For a brief moment, Kaz looked up, moderately surprised by Herbert’s presence. “Well, I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news, Sales Clerk, but it is.”
“If I may, sir, what exactly has Mr. Corelli done to inflict such grievous psychic wounds?” Charles asked.
Obviously offended, Kaz suddenly sat up, knocking the list to the ground. “Psychic wounds? Him ? Charles, you must be joking! I don’t give a damn what that blond prick thinks!”
“Of course not,” Charles assured him. “I simply thought that you might wish to discuss the situation, on the off-chance there had been some sort of misunderstanding between the two of you.”
Herbert reflexively dropped down onto the floor to pick up the piece of paper. “Excuse me, Mr. Kaan, but you dropped…” He trailed off as he caught sight of something on the list. “Oh my. I had no idea something like that would be here. How incredibly exciting! No wonder they wanted you to work security. I’m sure a demon would love an opportunity to destroy something both so valuable and dangerous to them.”
Kaz looked at him, annoyed both at the prospect of work and his attention potentially being focused on something other than his complaints .”What are you talking about?” Kaz snatched the paper out of Herbert’s hand and looked at it. Kaz’s eyes widened and he went silent as he looked down at the list. His face fell. “That basic bitch.”
Kaz growled as he clenched his fist, crumpling the piece of paper in his hand. He got up from the bar and headed backstage again.
“Oh dear,” Charles said as he watched Kaz storm off. “Perhaps we should follow him.”
Herbert clapped in an almost delighted fashion. “Oh yes! I’d hate to miss even a moment of this exhilarating drama!”
Once Kaz entered the dressing room, he headed straight for Arcangelo. Arcangelo was sitting in a chair in front of his dressing table, he’d grabbed the designer by the wrist for trying to touch his hair. “What did I say about your hands, peasant? If they’re not clean enough to touch my clothes, they’re certainly not clean enough to go anywhere near my hair!”
“Arcangelo!” Kaz yelled at him to get his attention, as Charles, Herbert, Lexy and Gottlieb all came in behind him.
Arcangelo looked up at him and smiled, apparently not noticing Kaz’s foul mood. “Kaz, there you are!” He let go of the designer and pushed him away. “I knew you’d come around, broseph! What do you think of my outfit?”
Arcangelo held out his arms to show off his ensemble. He was wearing a midnight blue military jacket over a slightly lighter midnight blue shirt embroidered with gold to resemble a nineteenth century military uniform.
“It’s amazing, of course, but that’s not the point! Seriously, what the fuck is wrong with you?” Kaz leaned over Arcangelo, clearly angry. Arcangelo seemed surprised at first, but then relaxed. A smug look spread across his face as he pushed himself forward a bit to look Kaz directly in the eyes.
“It’s been a while since I’ve seen you like this. Looks good.” Arcangelo smirked as he looked Kaz up and down. “Who knew vexation went so well with Chairman’s Navy?”
“Stop messing around, Arcangelo!” Kaz said, leaning over him. “We need to talk.”
“Oh, I’m listening,” Arcangelo answered. He sat up a bit and moved forward, closing much of the remaining distance between them. “Or, did you want to go somewhere more private?”
“This is serious!” Kaz said. He thrust the list he was holding at Arcangelo, pushing him back down into the chair. “Did you actually bring this thing here?”
“This piece of paper?” Arcangelo examined the paper Kaz was holding up for him, obviously confused.
“No, you idiot! The Holy Corelli Fiend—” Kaz looked at the piece of paper, “Repression and Eradication Blade Canon.”
Arcangelo’s attitude shifted instantly, dropping the playfully argumentative facade as he tried to figure out what was going on. He was annoyed and confused by how quickly the situation had gone from fun to serious. “Yeah, I told you I brought some musty old relic from the Demon War. So what? You didn’t care about it before.”
“Yeah, because I thought it was something dumb and unimportant like a pocket watch.”
“Why would you think it was a pocket watch?” Arcangelo asked.
“N-No reason!” Kaz looked at Charles for a brief moment, slightly flustered, before looking back at Arcangelo and growing serious again. “The point is I had no idea you brought that thing here!”
“Man, what are they talking about?” Gottlieb leaned over to ask Lexy.
“Don’t look at me, G,” Lexy answered.
“The Holy Corelli Fiend Repression and Eradication Blade Canon is a powerful gunblade from the Demon War,” Charles explained. “Blessed by the church and enchanted by powerful Magistocrats, legend has it the blade is one of the few weapons in the world capable of allowing non-Magistocrats to vanquish demons, as the gun barrel fires not bullets, but blasts of pure holy energy.”
“Of course, the Corelli family would never be willing to give up form for function, so it’s also incredibly beautiful. All of the metal is gold plated, with diamond and emerald accents, and grips made from the finest ivory. And the entire surface was engraved with epic battle scenes from the war by Colt’s master engraver, Gustave Young. Until now, it’s always been held in the consecrated vault on the Corelli Family Estate on the uppermost edge of the East Side,” Herbert said. “I can’t believe we’ll actually get to see it today!”
“Again, so what? Like I said earlier, it’s just here to be a prop! Honestly, I don’t understand what the big deal is!” Arcangelo said loudly enough that everyone looked back over at he and Kaz’s argument.
“The big deal is that you knew I couldn’t mess this up and you decided to turn the whole fashion show into a giant target for a major robbery and a demonic attack!” Kaz answered.
“Woah! Lemon down, my strawberry-iced bronut,” Arcangelo said, his tone relaxed once more. He held up his hands in a gesture of peace. “For starters, no one outside of the Corelli family can even use the sword. And as for killing demons, I’m not even sure the thing still works.”
“You mean like the family that owns it?” Kaz was still angry. “What was all of this anyway? Just some elaborate scheme to ruin me? Is that what’s really been going on this whole time?”
For a moment, Arcangelo froze. He was shocked and, possibly, hurt by the accusation. “W-What?”
“It is, isn’t it? If no demons show up, then you get all the limelight and everyone sees you here, while I have to hide in the back and miss the entire show. And if they do show up, you get to play the victim while I look like a blundering fool! You’ve just been pretending to be my friend, when in reality all you care about is pushing me so far down the Bachelor Board you don’t have to worry about me ever again! I knew you could play dirty, Arcangelo, but I never thought you’d do anything like this! You could ruin my family’s whole business!”
Arcangelo looked at him for a few more long moments, his eyes then widened slightly before he burst out laughing. Kaz just watched him, more bewildered than angry.
“Man, Kaz, you should hear yourself. You sound crazy paranoid. I’m sorry, this was definitely my fault. I should have realized how keyed up you were yesterday.” Arcangelo’s tone was light and friendly again. “That aunt of yours really has your dick in a blender, doesn’t she?”
Arcangelo stood up as Kaz watched him, still a bit skeptical. “Look, obviously no demons have shown up yet, but if you’re that worried about the dumb sword.” Arcangelo picked the case up off the table. “I’ll just take it home right now.”
“But then you’d miss the first show of the new year,” Kaz said. He didn’t seem to fully believe what was hearing. “You’d really do that?”
“If you want.” Arcangelo gave Kaz a characteristic disquieting, yet almost tender, smile. “After all, what are friends for? Right, Kaz?”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Kaz said, as he fully processed the situation. He gave Arcangelo a relieved smile. “Thanks, Arcangelo.”
Arcangelo reach over and put an arm around Kaz’s shoulder. “No problem, bestie.” He looked over at the Vice Chancellor on the other side of the room. “Hey, so, in case you didn’t hear that, I quit.”
The Vice Chancellor stormed over to them. “You what? You can’t just quit!”
“Well, I ‘just’ did,” Arcangelo answered. “What’s the price tag on me pulling out of this? And should I make that a check or wire transfer? I’m assuming I can’t just swipe my black card somewhere.”
“It’s not about the money!” The Vice Chancellor seemed to be getting more and more angry.
Arcangelo sighed. “I swear, you artistic types are always so dramatic. Money is the medium by which humans value all goods and services. I am refusing to provide a service for you. Tell me the value of that service and I will happily recompense you with money. Do you understand?”
Arcangelo reached down to remove his wallet from the pocket of the pants that were folded on the dressing table. As he did so, a blast of yellow energy sped right over his head. “Huh? What th—?”
“Arcangelo! Move!” Kaz pulled Arcangelo out of the way of another blast of energy.
Arcangelo looked up to see the Vice Chancellor with totally black eyes and surrounded by yellow light. The demon laughed. “Just think, I’ll have a chance to destroy the demon killer and put an end to the revolting Corelli bloodline at the same time!”
Arcangelo turned to look at the demon. “Holy moley in a fuck bucket!”
“Well, actually, since that’s a demon, it’s not ‘holy’ at all,” Kaz corrected. He just barely managed to intercept yet another blast of energy aimed at Arcangelo with one of his own. “Now, I would appreciate it if you’d get out of my way. That goes for everyone else too!”
“On it!” Arcangelo rushed away from the demon and behind Kaz, his hair fluttering gracefully behind him as he did so. He looked at Charles, Lexy, and the other people still in the room. “You heard him! It’s time to knuck and buck, my little woodchucks.”
The demon rushed over toward the case, but Kaz beat her to it. He grabbed the case by the handle, but it didn’t move when he pulled on it. “Damn! Why won’t it move?”
While he was distracted by the case, the demon hit Kaz with an energy blast, knocking him backwards, just as Arcangelo was about to follow the others out of the room. Arcangelo froze at the sight of Kaz slamming into the dressing mirror.
“Mr. Corelli, we should—” Before Charles could finish, Arcangelo was already darting back over to Kaz, who had slid down the wall as broken mirror shards fell to the floor around him, his eyes closed.
The demon walked over to Kaz, then stopped and stood over him, her hands glowing as she prepared to hit him at full force. Suddenly the demon was knocked across the room. Arcangelo was now holding the case, having clearly just used it to hit the Vice Chancellor as hard as he could.
“You do not get to interrupt my conversations with my best homie! Back the hell off!” Arcangelo knelt down to help Kaz up just as he came around and opened his eyes. “Now, where were we?”
Kaz pulled away from Arcangelo and stepped in front of him. “I was telling you to get out of here. You’re just going to get in the way.”
“Kaz, look, I got you into this. Just let me help!”
The demon laughed. “And what do you think you can do? You’re literally the embodiment of this city’s weakness and moral decay! Your ancestors led actual armies! Now you’re using that history as a fashion statement! They’d probably be even more disgusted with you than I am! You’re really the ultimate herb!”
Another burst of energy bolted across the room toward them. Arcangelo reflexively held up the case to stop it. The energy blast disintegrated the case until it hit the blade inside, which caused it to stop. A gold engraved, gem encrusted gunblade fell out of the case and onto the ground.
Kaz was now staring at the remains of the case Arcangelo was holding, having just noticed it. “What the—? Arcangelo, how did you move that thing? It felt like it weighed five hundred pounds!”
“I think it’s one thousand, actually,” Arcangelo said.
“B-But then… h-how?”
“To anyone who isn’t in the Corelli family, that is,” Arcangelo explained. “To us it just feels like a normal sword. Magistocrats enchanted it that way back during the war. That’s why I thought it was weird you were so worried about someone stealing it.”
“A thousand pounds, huh?” the demon said as she looked down at it. “Guess if I’m going to take it, I’ll be needing some backup!”
The demon extended her hands and the mannequins in the room were surrounded by yellow light. They began to move in toward Kaz and Arcangelo in a menacing fashion. She pointed at Arcangelo. “Get the demon killer!”
Kaz blasted an empty mannequin close to them then looked at Arcangelo. “You want to help, Arcangelo? Fine. Then pick up that fancy sword of yours and actually help!”
Arcangelo picked it up, then looked at Kaz moderately confused. “You mean hit the things with it?”
“Yes! That’s what I mean!”
“Okay, okay!” Arcangelo said. He swung the gunblade at one of the naked mannequins near him, hitting it with the broadside and knocking it across the room. “Oh hey! This is just like field hockey.”
“Arcangelo! Focus!” Kaz said, clearly annoyed as he blasted another mannequin that was about to attack Arcangelo.
“Sorry!” Arcangelo answered. His eyes widened as he turned to look at Kaz. “Kaz! Behind you! Look out for that Chanel!”
“Damnit!” Kaz turned around and blasted the mannequin behind him. It slammed into the wall and its pastel blue and pink tweed tank top, jacket and skirt fell off in pieces. Kaz’s expression clouded with sadness and he looked solemnly at the ground. “Forgive me, Coco, for I have sinned.”
The demon laughed. “Hand over the demon-killer or I’ll force you to rip every piece of this tacky, unwearable garbage to shreds!”
Both Kaz and Arcangelo gasped in offense and outrage.
“Haute Couture is not tacky!” Kaz said, resolutely. “The lack of mundane functionality serves to open the mind to new possibilities, both in fashion and in life!”
Arcangelo looked fondly over at Kaz for a brief moment, before striking down another mannequin. The blade sliced through it easily, destroying the floor length, bright red fur trench coat and unusually long necked orange and red turtleneck underneath it. “No! Not the Oscar de la Renta!” He looked at Kaz. “Is your work always this emotionally difficult?”
“ Work is emotionally difficult,” Kaz answered. “Though I’ll admit I’ve had to destroy a lot more bespoke items than usual recently. It’s been a particularly dark time.”
Arcangelo made a face of discomfort as he chopped a dress made of neon green tassels to pieces. “There must be something we can do to make this less unbearable.”
“Well, Charles is always saying that prayer is the answer to unsolvable problems. Perhaps we can say a prayer for the fallen, in order to ease their passing.” Kaz took a deep breath and closed his eyes reverently for a moment. “Our designers who art in fashion, hallowed be—”
“I know it is not my place to tell you how to do your job, sir,” Charles said from the doorway, as Kaz blasted another mannequin. “However, I must protest to this gross abuse of the Lord’s Prayer.”
“He’s right,” Arcangelo said. “This is utterly distasteful.”
“Thank you, Mr. Corelli.”
“If we want this to be a proper tribute, we’ll need music as well,” Arcangelo finished, much to Charles’s dismay.
“So true,” Kaz agreed. “Charles, play Mozart’s Requiem Mass .”
Charles sighed. “The “Lacrimosa,” I assume, sir.”
“What else would fit such a dark tragedy?”
“Very well,” a defeated Charles said before playing the requested piece.
“Ah, that’s much better. Now, where were we?” Kaz donned a grim expression before blasting another mannequin and turning a pale pink rain floor-length poncho covered in red strings to tatters. “Our designers who art in fashion, hallowed be thy brand names.”
Arcangelo brought his blade down dramatically, cutting a banana-yellow leopard print suit right down the center. “Thy Seasons come. Thy will be done, on the street as it is on the runway.”
“Give us this day our daily couture; and forgive us our faux pas, as we forgive those whose faux pas offend us.” Kaz destroyed a mannequin dressed in a pale yellow suit with a loud, upholstery-esq pink and orange floral print with a large leather choker.
“And lead us not into distaste, but deliver us from drabness.” A mannequin dressed in a white feather covered shirt lept at Arcangelo, tackling him and pinning him to the ground. He managed to wrestle the gunblade away from it and stabbed it repeatedly in the torso, causing white feathers to rain down on him before it finally stopped moving. He pushed himself up so he was kneeling over it, his blond hair falling forward to cast a dramatic shadow over his face as he shoved the sword into it for a final time. “For thine is the Chloe, the Prada, and the Gucci forever and ever.”
As he started to get up, Arcangelo noticed the one of the Kaan Security business cards on the ground. He gave it a puzzled look before picking it up. As he caught his breath, Arcangelo dusted the last of the feathers off of his military-prince ensemble.
Kaz finished off the final mannequin and its red and white hooded coat lined with thick, bright blue fur fell to the ground in several pieces. Kaz looked over at Arcangelo and they both turned toward the possessed Vice Chancellor.
Kaz shot a few energy blasts at her as Arcangelo rushed her. Arcangelo knocked her to the ground, then stood over her with his blade at her throat.
Kaz walked up beside him and held up a single glowing hand. “Okay, so, that—” Kaz made a face, then looked over at Charles. “Charles, cut the music!”
The music stopped abruptly.
Kaz looked back at the demon. “So, that was really annoying. Not only was it a tragic waste of beautiful couture, it was totally avoidable.” He shot a quick, passive-aggressive look at Arcangelo. “Now, tell me how you did it. How did you get into the fashion show? The Vice Chancellor was awful before, but she wasn’t a demon. You must have possessed the her at some point during the day.”
“Are you sure of that?” she asked. “Maybe I was always a demon, like your old flame, Sailor.”
“Nope.” Arcangelo knelt down next to her, then took the business card he was holding and shoved it against the Vice Chancellor’s cheek. It began to sizzle loudly and she cried out in pain. “See, these cards are consecrated. And you took one earlier, so you definitely weren’t a demon then. Try again.”
“Arcangelo! Stop!” Kaz pulled him back. “You’re just hurting the host body!”
Arcangelo nodded, his expression made it clear he hadn’t considered that. “R-Right. Sorry.”
“It’s alright. Honestly, given that this was your first day of work, you’re doing pretty well,” Kaz answered. He looked back at the Vice Chancellor. “I checked everyone and everything here. There’s no way you could have gotten past me.”
“Not everyone ,” the possessed Vice-Chancellor said. She looked over at Arcangelo and then at Charles, Lexy, Gottlieb, and Herbert, who were still watching from the doorway. She lowered her voice so only Kaz and Arcangelo could hear her. “Not the people you thought you could trust.”
Arcangelo’s eyes widened and he pointed the gunblade at her again. He also kept his voice quiet. “Are you saying someone close to Kaz is a demon sympathizer? Who is it?”
The demon smirked. “Guess blondie’s not as dumb as he looks.”
“He’s not, but to be fair, that’d be pretty hard to pull off,” Kaz said. “Now—”
“What the hell is going on here?” The Remembrancer shoved past Lexy and Gottlieb, forcing his way into the dressing room. “Where’s—” He gasped at the sight of the dressing room covered in broken mannequins and scraps of designer fabric. “My God! The show’s been ruined! ...Spirit of Gianni Versace protect us.”
He spotted at Kaz standing over the Vice Chancellor and pointed at him in accusation. “You! I knew you couldn’t be trusted! You did this on purpose!” He quickly marched over to Kaz.
“W-What? No!!” Kaz said. He held up his hands to stop the Remembrancer. “Wait! The Vice Chancellor is possessed! Stay back!”
Arcangelo darted over to intercept the Remembrancer. He forced a pleasant expression on his face as he glanced at the crowd that had now gathered in the doorway behind Charles, Herbert. “This is all a huge misunderstanding. Kaz was fighting the demon. We both were. Any of these witnesses can tell you how amazing we looked. Am I right?” He said loudly enough for everyone to hear.
He raised a hand indicating he wanted input and many of the people in the doorway started cheering. Using the cheers for cover, Arcangelo lowered his voice so he could speak only to the Remembrancer. “Stop. Now . Last warning.”
The Remembrancer fell instantly silent, opting to glare at Kaz instead. Satisfied, Arcangelo turned back to Kaz and the demon, just in time to see her blast a distracted Kaz. He was thrown backwards into a wall and she made a dash for the window.
Arcangelo looked down at the gunblade in his hand. He then held it up and pointed it at the demon. “...In the name of Dior, de la Renta, and the Holy Ghost.” He pulled the trigger, shooting off a blast of pure white light. It hit the demon, causing her to drop to the ground. “Amen, bitch.”
He looked over at Kaz and smiled. “Guess it still works! That’s handy, huh?”
Kaz rushed over to the Vice Chancellor to check on her, with Arcangelo behind him. She opened her eyes, clearly confused. Kaz let out a sigh of relief. “Not dead. Good sign.” He held up a glowing hand and scanned her. “ And not possessed. Maybe I won’t be fired, after all.”
As Vice Chancellor came to and looked around at the room, she began to scream. “W-What has happened? H-How… We—”
At that moment, there were a series of gasps that came from the doorway. A woman wearing a strapless black dress covered in thick Swarovski crystals with a large, metal crystal chandelier as an overskirt appeared at the doorway. Her hair was the lightest shade of blond and was towered high onto her head with chains of crystal hanging from it. She also wore a pair of crystal-studded sunglasses. Herbert gasped as she pushed him out of the way to walk into the room.
Herbert looked after her in pure, star-struck adoration. “It’s the Grand Lady Wintour,” his voice was a reverent whisper. “The Vogue High Chancellor. The undisputed queen of fashion and elegance. Here. In person. And she touched me. This is the greatest day of my life.”
Kaz scrambled a bit as the High Chancellor approached him. Arcangelo put on a comfortable smile and gave her a bow. “Your Grace, please, allow me to explain.”
Lady Wintour looked at Kaz and Arcangelo. “Kaz Kaan and Arcangelo Corelli, Neo Yokio’s most eligible bachelors, no explanation is necessary. You have eliminated the demon. Vogue is not displeased. Kaz Kaan, we will review your performance and make a decision about your potential involvement in Fashion Week at a later date.” She looked at the Vice Chancellor. “Sky Hume. You have been possessed on the day of a major show and destroyed several priceless pieces of couture, as well as disrespected an important member of the Corelli family working in our show. Vogue is displeased. Most displeased.”
“My liege,” the Vice Chancellor said. “We—
“There is no ‘we’ for you any longer. You are dismissed from Vogue without honor. Remove your couture.”
The Vice Chancellor made a face of utter desolation before removing her neck halo. Arcangelo looked on, smirking slightly.
Herbert rushed forward before she could set the harness down. “Enough elegant items have been disgraced today.” He turned toward Wintour, but looked at the ground out of respect. “Your Grace, please allow me the honor of collecting her ensemble and packaging it to be returned to you. I swear on my very life that it will not be damaged.”
Wintour looked at him, clearly somewhere between surprised and offended. “That is most forward of you. And you are?”
Herbert looked nervous but maintained his composure. “A Bergdorf’s Sales Clerk and ardent lover of couture.”
Wintour looked at Kaz and Arcangelo. “Can either of you gentlemen speak for him?”
Kaz and Arcangelo exchanged looks that indicated they didn’t really want to deal with it. Charles, who had walked into the room and was now standing behind them leaned over to Kaz. “Really, sir.”
Kaz sighed. “Yes. I can. He is a trustworthy and loyal servant of fashion.”
“Indeed he is,” Charles added. “In all the time I’ve worked as Mr. Kaan’s butler, I’ve never met anyone more devoted to the culture and spirit of Neo Yokio than this man.”
Wintour now seemed mildly intrigued. “I see. Very well, then. You may return it to us at the central office later this evening. What is your name?”
Herbert’s eyes lit up and he smiled. “Sims, your Grace. Herbert Sims.”
“So, uh, what about the fashion show?” Everyone turned to see Matoko Goldberg and several of the other high society guests, who were now filtering into the dressing room with the models who had been thrown out earlier.
Wintour held her hands up dramatically. “The show is cancelled!”
Just as a wave of disappointment began to ripple through the crowd, Freddie Miles stepped forward. “Why so serious, everyone? All this means is that the after-party just became a right now party! My penthouse! I’ve got an open bar in a heated pool!” He gave the dejected models a charming smile. “And of course, given what happened, all of the models are more than welcome to join us.”
Everyone looked at each other for a moment, then cheered. They then began to filter out of the room, many high-fiving or patting Freddie on the back as they did so.
“Hey there.” Matoko smiled at a few of the particularly attractive female models. “If you’re going to Freddie’s, I’m happy to give you a ride.”
“Great.” Kaz watched as Matoko left the room followed by no less than three of the show’s hottest models with a melancholy expression. “I’m hardly in the proper headspace for a party right now.”
Freddie approached Kaz and Arcangelo. “You guys coming? It’s not a party without Neo Yokio’s two favorite bachelors.”
Kaz sighed and looked reluctantly at Freddie. Before he could speak, however, Arcangelo stepped in front of him. “I hate to say it, Fredster, but I’m totally wiped.” He held up his hand in a sort of half shrug. “Fighting demons is seriously hard work. I can’t believe Kaz here does it all the time. Besides, I have to get this magic sword canon-thing home. It sucks but I’m going to have to duck out. Rain check?”
“For sure, man,” Freddie answered. “Won’t be the same without you. What about you, Kaz? You’re down to party, right?”
“Actually,” Arcangelo said, putting an arm around Kaz’s shoulder. “Seeing as Kaz was my personal security consultant for the show tonight, he might have to come with me. What do you think, bud?” Arcangelo looked at him, clearly trying to convey that he was purposefully giving Kaz a choice. “Is it safe for me to go alone or do both of us have to spend a boring night in? It’s your call.”
Kaz looked at Arcangelo for a moment and smiled briefly. He then turned to Freddie. “As much as I hate to miss a Freddie Miles party, the last thing I need right now is to have one of my clients attacked while I’m out having fun. Sorry.”
“Major bummer. But I get it. Next time, then?”
“Definitely.”
“ Third ?” Kaz asked, clearly distressed. He was still in his pajamas, as he’d just gotten up the next day. He fell backwards onto his bed and rolled over, wrapping himself tightly in the blankets and letting out a loud groan.
Charles took a step closer to the bed. “Sir, I know you’re upset. But perhaps you should focus on the strange events at last night’s fashion show. You never were able to determine how the Vice Chancellor became possessed. Your new rank on the Bachelor Board is hardly reason to mope at a time like this.”
“Wrong, Charles! It’s the perfect reason to mope!” Kaz answered. “I know Freddie’s party was a source of desperately needed joy after the dark shadow that engulfed yesterday’s fashion show. And I suppose it makes sense that he would be rewarded for it. But it’s completely unfair that Arcangelo’s ranking didn’t suffer from not attending as well! I’d think he’d pulled some sort of dirty trick, but he stayed here last night, so I know he didn’t go to the party behind my back or anything like that.”
“Do you really think Mr. Corelli would do that to you?”
“I don’t know what he’d do anymore! At this point he’s become impossible to predict!” Kaz answered. “What I do know is that he always manages to grab the spotlight. Just look at last night. We both fought the demon, the only reason anyone would be talking about him more than me is that he had that flashy gun-sword and was wearing that Balmain ensemble—which, admittedly, complemented one another perfectly—but, honestly, must he do all the same things that I do? Fashion, field hockey, and now, fighting demons? It’s almost as if he exists to show me up.”
“Did you ever consider the possibility that you and Mr. Corelli simply share a great many common talents and interests and that it is, in fact, society which forces you into competition with one another, not Mr. Corelli?”
The blanket bundle flopped over in a sort of pathetic way and curled up a bit. “Stop defending him, would you? I may be friends with him now, but he’s still the worst.”
“Do you really feel that way, sir? Or is it just easier to deal with his higher rank when you tell yourself you do?”
“It’s obviously both, Charles!” Kaz snapped.
Charles was silent for a moment. “Oh my. This—it can’t be.”
“What is it now? Have I somehow managed to fall to fourth place in the last thirty seconds?”
“Not you , sir, Mr. Corelli. I hadn’t fully checked the new list before, but from what I’m seeing he’s now ranked fourth.” Charles sounded as if he could scarcely believe it.
“What? No way!” Kaz sat up, the blankets falling down around his shoulders as he did so. Kaz took a moment to think. “He had a field hockey match against Luke Silver-Greenberg’s team today. And he definitely went, if he was still here, he would have come into my room to annoy me by now. And even if he lost he shouldn’t have fallen this far down the board. Who the hell’s second?”
“Mr. Miles is.”
Kaz seemed confused. “But that means—”
At that moment, Arcangelo burst into the room, still wearing his black and yellow field hockey uniform. He rushed over to Kaz’s bed and leapt onto it.
“Hey, Kaz.” Arcangelo’s boundless energy seemed far more nervous than usual, as he settled directly in front of Kaz. “We need to talk.”
Kaz held his hands up. He seemed a bit unsettled by Arcangelo’s demeanor. “Look, Arcangelo, I didn’t do anything. I have no idea how you ended up in fourth place, I swear.”
“I know.” Arcangelo assured him, calming down momentarily. He smiled and touched a finger to the tip of Kaz’s nose. “Besides, if you were mad enough to push me all the way down to fourth, I’m sure I’d have done something to deserve it.”
Kaz shook his head a bit, aggressively trying to ignore the fact that he was flustered. “Well, I can certainly empathize with the anguish you no doubt are feeling over your loss in status. And, given the recent transformation of our relationship, I suppose I should do everything in my power to provide you with emotional support during this tumultuous time.” He looked down at Arcangelo’s feet. “However, before we continue this conversation, I’m going to need you to get those dirty Gucci Flashtrek sneakers of yours off my Sferra Giza 45 duvet.”
Arcangelo removed his shoes and tossed them to the side.
“Good. Now, tell me, how much do you know about what’s happening? Because from what I can tell, everything’s gone cuckoo bananas.”
“Well, that’s only to be expected, given the new Ichiban: the new ‘Vice Chancellor of Vogue’s Fashion Ministry,’” Arcangelo answered, somewhat bitterly. “He’s nothing like he was before, Kaz, he’s absolutely terrible now.” Arcangelo looked momentarily vulnerable, as if recalling a particularly unpleasant memory.
“Wait, are you saying we know this guy?”
Arcangelo gave him a confused look. “Of course we do.”
“Well, I don’t bloody believe this!” Kaz and Arcangelo turned to look at Sadie, who had just popped out of the mech suit and was laughing loudly. “Neo Yokio’s new Number One Bachelor is Herbert fucking Sims!”
Kaz looked from Sadie to Arcangelo, confused. “Who?”