One thing that often surprises Eames is just how many vampire owned and run establishments there are in London. Of course it makes plenty of sense on their part, but for them to operate like this, hidden in plain sight? Ugh, it makes his skin crawl.

Unfortunately, the person he'd just finished up a meeting with was clearly either unaware or an idiot for inviting a fae to a place like this, but what can you do?

He's seated at a table, intent finishing up the bottle of wine he'd ordered, when Cesare comes over. "I don't think I am," he says with a smile, as if not at all put off by his presence, "this is the Angelo, right?"