Arnold stalked to the counter where a young rat in a suit stared at him, eyes wide.

“Can, can I help you?” he stammered out.

“Denton Brislow. Where is he?”

“Who?” but the rat looked at his screen, typing away before Arnold told him how to do his job. “We don’t have a Brislow staying with us, sir.”

“He’s here to talk with Raphael Lewiston.”

The rat froze. Stooped moving entirely except for his shallow breathing. The kid was scared.

Arnold made an effort to make his tone friendlier. “Look, he got here twenty, no more than thirty minutes ago. Cheetah, this high, skinny, nice guy until you piss him off. Do you know where he went?”

“Is there a problem?” The approaching manager asked. He too was a rat. Lots of them here.

Arnold wondered if they were all Lewistons. “I’m looking for Denton Brislow,” he said, losing the friendly tone with the older man. “Before you tell me he isn’t, I know he’s got a meeting with Raphael. If you don’t know who that is, get me someone  who does.”

The rat stiffened. “I know very well who Elder Lewiston is, mister Orr. We weren’t expecting you here just yet.”

“I make my own schedule.”

The rat looked beyond Arnold and wasn’t pleased. “I’m afraid mister Brislow is currently in a conference with Elder Lewiston and can’t be disturbed.”

Arnold smiled. “There’s going to be disturbed that they want to or not. The only question that matters to you is how many doors I have to kick in before I find where they are.”

The rat sighed. “Pleasure wait while I see what I can arrange.” And he left.

Arnold leaned back against the counter. Adam and Kevin joined him.

“Adam, that other driver, how much longer would it have taken him to drive here you think?”

“Dunno. I can’t be horrible or they would employ him, and he’d know the city, unlike Kevin.”

“I’m really sorry I didn’t get you here in the time you wanted, I really thought I would. I studied—” Adam grabbed his muzzle shut.

“I’m already said this isn’t your fault. Looking at a map isn’t knowing a city. I wouldn’t have done much better than you did. Why do you need to know that Arnold?”

“Not sure. The manager said they weren’t expecting me right now. It feels off. He wasn’t happy to see you.”

“Can’t be my fault,” Adam said, “I’ve never been here.” He looked at the otter.

“Never been here either. I wanted to come, but the wouldn’t let me drive so, I—” Adam grabbed his muzzle again.

“Is they your security senses tingling, or just common paranoia?”

Arnold indicated the manager returning with a muscular mink. “We’re about to find out.”

“Mister Orr,” the rat said. “This is mister Cartran, he’s going to escort you to mister Brislow.”

Arnold pushed himself away from the counter. “Good. Lead the way.”

The mink looked Adam and Kevin over. “Just you,” he told Arnold. “These two can stay here and wait.”

Adam glared at the mink.

“They’re coming.”

Kevin looked unusually pleased to be included.

“My orders—”

“Can go fuck themselves,” Arnold said. “I don’t know if you know who I am, but—”

“Oh, I know exactly who you are,” the mink said with more vehemence in his tone than Arnold expected.

“Then you know telling me want to do is a waste of your breath. You can lead us, or I can start kicking in doors. I don’t care which.”

With a last glare, the mink headed to a staff-only door. On the other side was a utilitarian corridor where cleaning staff and servers walked hurriedly without paying them any attention. The mink forcefully vacated the staff elevator, and Adam caught a server before he ended up on the floor. He grinned at the cougar, and Arnold glared at his brother. The cougar walked away, rearranging himself. He looked over his shoulder with a confused neediness in his eyes.

“We don’t have the time,” Arnold growled. He ignored the disgusted look the mink was giving them.

“He’d have ended on the floor, he’s just going to be extra grateful when I find him after all this. Unlike you, I’m in no hurry to head home.”

“You have to stop, Adam. You—”

“No, you decided to stop. There was no family agreement on this, and even you aren’t sticking to it, or have you forgotten the reporter?”

“I was angry.”

The door opened on the fourteenth floor, keeping Arnold from having to listen to his brother’s reply. The floor had a disused feel to it, the carpets were old, the walls in need of new wallpaper.

The mink opened a set of double doors and Arnold stopped before it. Inside, at least two dozen people stood from the card tables they’d been seated at.

“Please wait here, while I inform them you’re here,” the mink said, sneering in his voice.

“Aren’t those?” Adam asked.

“Yeah,” Arnold replied drying, eying the Gray Church armor each person in the room wore. He turned and reached for the mink as he lifted a hand. Arnold flew into the room, Adam and Kevin landing on each side. “I am so fucking fed up with people who can do this shit.” Arnold grumbled as he got to his feet.

“Remember,” the mink said. “The tiger’s can be hurt too badly. Just keep them busy until our lord is ready for them. The otter he doesn’t care about.” The doors closed on their own.

“Tell me you know how to fight, Kevin.” He pulled the otter closer.

“Of course I do. Mister Marrows has been teaching me. He’s really good and after that I get to fu—”

“Shut up, Kevin,” Adam said, taking position next to them, forming a triangle. “You know most guys have that under control by now, right?”

“I like it,” the otter said, sounding hurt.

“Adam, the instant you get the chance, you call Ernest and tell him what’s going on here. He’s got to tell Brislow’s people Damian is here.” He took out the gun at his back and fired into the crowd. Each shot hit a different person, but only one went down by the time it clicked empty. In the moment of stunned surprise, he discarded it; he preferred fighting with his fists, anyway.

The Gray Church ran at them and Arnold grinned.