Finally, I spot a door with two guards in front of it which must be his. I walk up and request to see Vargas. “Run along, witch,” the burly demon demands with a sneer. “Vargas has no use for your kind.” He glances at the soldier standing guard on the other side of the door, and they both chuckle. “Although, if you want to come back in about three hours, I’d be happy to take care of you.” His hand drifts down to his crotch to convey his meaning. Why would Vargas assign these morons to guard his door? And why does he need guards in Lucifer’s house anyway?
