The Devil's Island (open)

[alisa_lebeau_v3]

The Devil's Island was one of the best, hidden clubs in the underworld. It was whispered that if you wanted it, you could find it there. And Alisa LeBeau just wanted to lose herself after having to deal with some hard truths from an ex-boyfriend. She did not tell Steve where she was going, or even Alistaire. This was a place she had to go to by herself.

Dressed in her work clothes (her typical white men's shirt, tie, pin striped vest with matching mini skirt, and her chess piece high heel stilettos), Alisa sat at the bar, hoping they had some moonshine or anything she could use to lose herself for a short bit of time.

"God, you would think they would have installed a fighting pit by now." She murmured to herself, downing the Russian vodka she had been given. "Hey! I asked for Moonshine!"

Comments

[stolenlives]

It wasn't unusual for Jerrard to be present on the floor of the club at night. He preferred to keep control of his assets; hands on, as it were. If there was a problem, he wanted it taken care of immediately. The last thing he needed was cops in his bar, unexpectedly. Occasionally, he set up a 'raid' just to keep them on their toes. It was entertaining and made them think they were doing something useful.

He was leaning on the end of the bar, chatting up a very receptive redhead when he heard another female voice yelling at his bartender. Jerrard stifled a sigh and excused himself from his companion, moving down the bar to stand beside the strange woman.

"Unfortunately, we don't serve moonshine here. Our offerings are slightly more upscale." He smiled his crocodile smile, smooth French accent in sharp contrast. "Perhaps I can suggest a brandy or a wine?"