With large windows on the south side facing the river, Tori's Diner always had a lot of natural light, though muted by thin blinds turned down, filling the room with a golden glow as the afternoon crept towards sunset. The bell rang when Alain enters through the single side door of the building, and stale cigarette smoke, sweet tea, scrambled eggs and cherry pie greets his nostrils. He couldn't help but watch Tori at the register writing down numbers, her lean-muscled tattooed arms propped against the counter while she works. Her chin lifts and her eyes snap to him, and she watches coolly....until she deciphers the Detective's undecipherable expression, and gives him a ghostly grin and a short wink. "Two cups of coffee, and leave us a pot," as the waitress herself was nowhere in sight. "You're lucky, D'Mourir," she replies with a laugh, but moves to get the coffee for him, and he sits in a booth facing the river.

Belial shimmers into existence inside the shadowy alley less than a block away. She moves to the opening and that green gaze sweeps with seeming casual indifference over the neighborhood. They have to be cautious, one never knows where spies might lurk and getting caught isn't an option, it's a death sentence, at least for Alain" Seeing nothing or no one out of the ordinary Bel is satisfied. She glides out onto the sidewalk heading towards Tori's Diner.

Through the glass window she spies the Detective. The slightest of pauses in her steps as guilt niggles at her conscious. He is so young and in the golden light of the end of day he looks vulnerable and far too mortal. A hand lifts to drag fingers through the mass of short ebon curls, a gesture that speaks volumes about her chaotic thoughts. Then she picks up her pace with renewed determination.

As Bel slips inside she can't help but think that Alain has picked an excellent location; she needs to compliment him on his area knowledge of the township. The place is small, quaint, and smells heavenly. The patrons range from Dockworkers to sailors, a rough lot with little disposable income and yet the ambiance is homey and comfortable. Bel smiles to the lady behind the counter as she moves to join Alain at his booth. The lady doesn't smile in return, but is gracious enough to offer Bel an upnod.

"Nice place you picked, Detective?" Bel smiles warmly as she slips into the seat across from Alain, resting small hands to the table's smooth, clean top. "I suspect you are going to reassure me the coffee is excellent?"

"I won't," he replies, grinning across at her - her cup of coffee is already waiting, and he rests his cigarette on the lip of the ashtray. "But it's a solid working-class cup of coffee, and it gets the job done." He raises his for a long sip. "It's good to see you again," he admits with a pause, but before the conversation turns more serious, he does ask, "Hungry?"

Bel shakes her head as she pours herself a cup of the coffee. With Yvette at home Bel rarely bothers to eat out; the lady has a talent in the kitchen and Bel has become rather addicted to the spicy Cajun cuisine. "Not particularly, no."

A hint of an amused grin flickers over beatific features. They could be just a random couple out to enjoy some quiet time not the conspirators they really are. They may not blend in with the local color, but neither do they stand out like sore thumbs. Bel finds the fa"ade comforting and rather humorous at the same time. Should anyone spy them from their typical social circles the rumor that will likely spread reeking of illicit romance. A situation Alain has frequently been associated to of late.

Bel cants her head as she adds sugar and cream to the coffee. "If you are hungry, don't hesitate to order on my account."

She's taking her time getting down to their business. Many excuses come to mind, but the honest and most direct are she is enjoying his company and she doesn't get a lot of 'downtime" lately. So' why rush when there is no need?

When Belial says no, Alain's bright blue gaze turns to Tori. It doesn't take long for their eyes to meet, and Alain shakes his head. No meal, just coffee. "No, think I'll just pick up Italian on the way home." He grins. "I'm nowhere near the cook I thought I'd become."

He takes up his cigarette for another drag. He appears comfortable, but there's a reason for it - he's scoped the place out, and he knows Tori has her way of alerting him should anything appear awry. His arm rests along the back of his seat, and in the golden sunlight, the numerous scars seem to deepen.

"I've made contact with Guthorm. He appears to be doing well, and we hatched a plan together. To 'murder' you." Eyebrows lift mildly.

Belial looks impressed. She nods gently as she looks over the copious information, her attention at last focusing on the snapshots. "Alain" I can't believe you have been able to lay your hands on all this"!"

If Bel were reading Alain's mind, a trick she has in her repertoire, she would insist on using Lisa. Alain's choice not to tell Bel is wisest if he doesn't want Bel to exploit the situation. Belial has studied Sun Tzu for many years and believes wholeheartedly in fighting her battles as much behind the lines as on them. Lisa would be seen as a tool; a means to an end.

Bel looks up into Alain's blue eyes and for a moment is sidetracked. Something about him resonates with confidence, unlike last time. Perhaps he's simply found his footing again? Or" something else must have granted him enlightenment.

"Perhaps it is a woman?" the thought slides into her mind unbidden and a flicker of a frown flashes over beatific features before vanishing under a distracted smile.

Bel's curiosity is piqued because of her unexpected attraction to him, yet she knows better" Alain is young, she is not and truth be told mortals don't last long around her and her warring brethren. To keep him safe, she must keep a strict distance between them. Too bad; there is something very tempting about Alain" something that calls out to her.

Bel shakes her head to clear her thoughts and refocus on the matters at hand. "I suspect you're right' but you may want to check out that other area too. We can't even be sure they are keeping their contracts here in Rhy"Din. They have divisions all over multiple dimensions; they could have squirreled them away in any one of them."

But if it were Bel; she'd have kept her contracts very close at hand. The Below cannot be trusted and she has dealt with thievery from supposed "trusted" comrades in the past. The Senior Partners will want to keep a careful eye on their "acquisitions" too, no doubt.

"But yes, in this I think your instincts are right, Alain" You need to get into that area. Do you think it possible" What kind of locks are they using?"

He reaches across the table to push at one of the photos, revealing another underneath - a picture of a rather intricate locking mechanism for an otherwise ordinary-looking wooden door. "Once I make a move on these contracts, I'm almost positive they'll be missed - but I already have my own plans for what I'll do when that sort of situation arises. The room's protections probably do not anticipate anyone overtly hostile making it into the building to begin with, so conventional explosives might bring it down....but is there anything you can tell me about that lock" And, while we're on the subject, anything you can tell me about destroying blood contracts?" And by that, he means the contracts he assumes are signed in blood.

Bel stares at the image, a smile lighting on full, red lips. "It's our lucky day, Alain" I can get us past that!" And then she's nodding. "Yes, yes, the contracts?"

She takes up the image of the lock holding it out towards him. "My copy?" she asks. "And I'm ordering you to wait on the contracts. Let's get you inside that room and make sure they are in there, first. Then when the time is ripe, you can destroy them. It's a move we should wait until the last moment to pull; otherwise, we might not get close enough for it to matter. And that, sweets, simply won't do' We need DCH under control or out of the way before?"

Bel cuts off in mid-sentence, her mouth snapping shut as she gives a little shake of her head. "That's not important right now. What is; is how the contracts need to be destroyed. In order to free the souls they've collected there are two things you have to do; the contracts themselves must be blessed, and then burned so that only ashes remain. Even a scrap of paper left will allow them to resurrect them. Let me emphasis to you, Alain, there must be nothing left save ashes or those souls remain enslaved and the Senior Partners will have access to their energies."

From seemingly out of thin air, Bel produces a small spray bottle which she sets on the table and beside it she lays an orb the size of an acorn. "The spray bottle is holy water. It will nullify the demonic magics protecting the contracts. The orb is what?s called "blue fire". It's potent. When you use it, make sure to close your eyes before you drop it on the files. It will cast a very bright light that could blind even your mortal eyes." Bel warns. "I suggest you dump the files into some kind of container and ignite them all at once. It will burn very fast and nothing will be left for them to salvage from it."

Bel cants her head to the left, staring at Alain intently. "Promise me you won't do anything until the time is right, Alain" otherwise it won't matter. This trick will weaken them, and if we can't strike when it does" They will likely flee, hide away and recoup to come back and attack later. We can't have them lurking out there waiting for a chance to strike back at us."

"If you need the holy water, you can keep it - I have a supplier," he smiles, though he does move both objects to his side of the table. He suspects she has a supplier also....He fingers the orb of blue fire, holding it close to peer into its depth. "I should've gone to you guys for party favors months ago..." he mutters. Then he sets it down carefully, and looks at her.

"I can promise I will wait for the absolute right time, for your word on it....if you will agree that, should my cover be blown, I need to acquire those contracts and destroy them immediately if at all possible....because if my cover is blown, I'm not sure we'll get another chance after this." He prods the table with one finger pointedly. "I want to be damn sure the partners think hiring me was the worst mistake of their wretched lives, that's the impression I want to leave, or all our work together will have been for nothing."