THADDEUS BLACK The Devil Wears High Heels

Shadwell Sebastian Woolsey stomped aimlessly through the rain. He had a destination but he was in no hurry to get there.

His shoes needed replacing, he noted as water crept in from a puddle he had not managed to avoid. He hated getting wet. Some might say he was a walking stereotype but he had never met another tom who hated it as much as he did. Hell, a fair amount of them used water as their first introduction to the Elemental arts.

Not Shadwell, though. As a Black-fur, he couldn’t create an affinity for such a healing Element to use in his magick. His gifts - if you could call them that - were of a much more complicated and forbidden nature. He could scratch the surface of his potential and did fine for himself with what he could do. However, Black-furs could only access their core magick by using a no-fur conduit.

Which was something Shadwell was never going to be able to do. Collaring a no-fur was a luxury for the most elite of Elementalists, something that Black-furs definitely were not. Beyond the prohibitive cost of just owning one, if an Elementalist wished to use a no-fur as part of their magick practice, there was a very expensive licensing process. Only the talented and affluent Calicoes would have the resources to have a collared no-fur. From what Shadwell had heard, most of them who showed any inclination towards Elemental magick when they came of age were gifted a no-fur of their own to use and abuse.

Black-furs like Shadwell were about as far from Calicoes in the social pecking order as no-furs were from toms. His jewel green eyes and thick soot-colored coat marked him as a Cursed One. Which, while still being better than being born a no-fur, was not the easiest of lives. Not that Shadwell was going to ask for pity for how he’d been born.

He’d always been clever and was born with a knack for reading auras, allowing him to see the motives of most toms. What had started when he was young as a hustle to keep himself fed had become a real career with real clients who paid well for his less-than-legal talents. It also allowed him to have an office that doubled as an apartment and featured a gorgeous antique stained glass lamp that he’d gotten cheap because it had never worked. Like every other feline Elementalist, Shadwell enjoyed shiny things. Unlike most of them, Shadwell often got himself into trouble because he could become fixated and obsessed with shiny things.

He couldn’t afford many of those these days as his ability to attract clients was uncertain at best. Keeping his apartment office in the City took most of his coin. The office didn’t need much anyway. It was a place to keep a few precious treasures and a couch to crash on. Most of his clients preferred to meet in clandestine alleys and bars so they weren't actually seen going into the Infernal Affurs office. Shadwell’s best friend Jinx swore it was because of the awful pun in the name, but it had to be the reputation that Shadwell had on the streets.

Even with a solid success rate and reasonable prices, you blow up one small parking lot by accidentally opening a demonic gate and you are suddenly a pariah.

Oh, they’ll still pay for your services, but they’d prefer it not to get out that they did. Which made word of mouth a hard sales tactic.

Tonight, like most nights, Shadwell was meeting someone Jinx had set him up with. Thank the gods for Jinx. The Orangelo owned a barely-this-side-of-legal speakeasy in the heart of the City. In exchange for keeping him in rich clients, Shadwell kept the speakeasy cloaked in a shadow spell so it stayed off the radars of the authorities that might like to break up the illegal gambling and smuggling that Jinx allowed to happen in the back rooms.

The whole demon gate incident had also had earned the Black-fur the street name of Hades. His proper name was such a pretentious mouthful and the moniker suited his line of work. Hades didn’t just work the underground, he basically ran it as far as the uptown toms were concerned. He investigated the stomach-turning bad things that toms did to each other. For a price. Needed to figure out who had cursed you? Hades did that for a price. Need to find some dirt on a rival business or break up an illegal gambling circle? Hades did that too, for a price.

If he were completely honest, there was very little that Hades wouldn’t do for the right amount of money.

Hades stepped into Jinx’s bar and made a beeline for the booth where he always did business. Jinx nodded to him as he crossed the room, acknowledging Hades’s presence. That also meant that the tom would be here with a drink as soon as he could get away from tending bar. Hades leaned back, making himself comfortable as he waited. He stared at the familiar copper ceiling tiles emblazoned with pictures of mystical places. He relaxed as he watched the cozy lights dance on the tiles.