With a barely imperceptible nod, Seth pushed the matter aside. "When you've lived as long as I have, you learn to take pleasure in the smallest of victories," he replied. "Like leggings. Pure genius, making women think that wearing a tight, thin veil of fabric covers their modesty was a good day in hell," he smiled, almost wistfully. Snapping back to reality, he grunted. "So, where did everyone get to? I find it hard to believe that of all the demons in hell, you were the first to arrive! Are they hiding from me?"
At his comment, Seth's eyes became cold and reptilian, regarding Zane as though he were food. "Wouldn't you say," he began, his voice held a levity that his eye contact lacked entirely, "that as bar-manager of Addiction, that was your decision make?" Seth topped up his glass and took a sip, intent on showing Gula he wouldn't get rid of him quite so easily as that. "So, perhaps you could work on some flyers during your next break, assuming you haven't nobody else lined up to do!"