“Don’t you have some sort of invisibility spell or something? It’s really uncomfortable here.”
“Bear with it, son. I can’t employ magic now; even a beginner witch would be able to detect it, and I won’t risk giving away our location to that dark mage.”
Jonathan rolled his eyes as he observed the auction in the cramped crevice. The ‘dark mage’ seemed harmless enough, watching on peacefully as the most bizarre items got sold off to yet another Phantom of the Opera. The participants’ disguises were sloppy even for a mere front, but at least that mage had the decency to cosplay a 1940s plague doctor with his noir-like long coat and pointed mask. Jonathan’s eyes drifted off, until they caught sight of a familiar person.
Anya? What’s she doing here?
Detective Anya was the only one who was wearing a face mask, but Jonathan recognised her all the same. He resisted the urge to call out to her. Jeopardising the mission was bad enough, but having to answer to her why he was there was worse.
“The last item of the night. The fabled Lily Noir!” the auctioneer shouted without a hint of fatigue in his voice. “Opening price, fifty thousand credits!”
The crowd shifted listlessly as some began to turn for the exit, clearly wanting to head back and enjoy what was left of the night. Jonathan could see why; the gem was a dull black in colour and had an ordinary shape. And yet, something about that jewel felt familiar to him. The auctioneer looked around unfazed and raised the item again.
“Sixty thousand credits!” the dark mage called out, and Jonathan felt Duncan shift behind him.
“Don’t hesitate, participate!” the auctioneer yelled. “Going once, going twice… Sold to the gentleman in that corner!”
“Seems we overreacted,” Duncan mumbled with a hint of disappointment in his voice. “Mission success, I guess. Let’s meet back up with Lucy.”
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“I thought you’d know better than to hide in the darkness from me.”
The assassin stopped in his tracks as Lucy rose from the shadows on the floor, her eyes glowing in the darkness. She pounced towards him, but he ducked and rolled away from her. The woman grinned sinisterly as fangs began to extend from her gums. The man pulled out a silver dagger in response.
“Now, now. Is this how boys these days treat fair maidens?” Lucy pranced up the walls, keeping her scarlet eyes on him.
“You’re no maiden,” the assassin growled. “You’re a nephilim, an abomination. All your kind does is kill and terrorise innocent people.”
“You seem to know much about my kind,” the vampire responded, now standing directly above him on the ceiling. “Who sent you?”
“Move, vampire. I won’t ask again.”
Lucy cackled uncontrollably and transformed into a snake, leaping towards him. The assassin ducked again as she flew above his head. The vampire turned back into her human form, raising her pistols towards him.
Muffled gunshots rang out as the man dodged her shots smoothly. He slashed at her aggressively with his dagger in response, causing her to back away from him. Lucy vanished into the shadows once more and reappeared behind him, but the assassin was prepared this time.
The vampire screamed, leaping back from a silver cross shoved in her face.
The man took advantage of the distance created and attempted to make a run for it again, but was suddenly pushed back by a strong force. He tumbled to the ground and quickly got back up, but froze as a yellow beam of light hit him squarely in the chest.
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“I can’t believe you didn’t invite us.”
“I had that well handled; you didn’t need to butt in.” Lucy pouted at the two figures walking out of the hall’s hidden entrance.
“You’re welcome. Now, what do we have here?” Duncan knelt beside the man on the floor and ripped his mask off. He looked like he was in his early forties, and an expression of shock was plastered on his frozen face. The witch doctor reached into his pocket and threw a powder onto the assassin’s face. He snapped his glowing fingertips and the man coughed uncontrollably, inhaling the powder.
“Who sent you and why are you here?” Duncan began to interrogate him.
“No one,” the assassin droned robotically. “I’m here for private revenge.”
“Who’s your target?”
“Michael O’Cornell, the man who murdered my family.”
Duncan opened his mouth to ask more questions, but his eyes suddenly turned bloodshot as he clutched his chest. He gasped for air as he fell to his knees in pain. The yellow glow surrounding the assassin’s body blinked a few times and faded away, freeing him from Duncan’s paralysing spell.
“Curse it…” the witch doctor spluttered as his hair began to turn grey. “Not… now…”
A portal formed under his feet and he quickly jumped into it, disappearing and abruptly ending the interrogation. Jonathan looked at Lucy wild-eyed, but a flash of silver redirected his attention. He rushed in front of her, blocking a silver dagger aimed at her throat. The weapon bent on itself against his impenetrable skin, and the assassin seized the chance to escape. Jonathan prepared to give chase, but Lucy pulled his arm and shook her head.
“Don’t bother,” she said. “We’re here to protect the auction, and it’s over. Let Boss find out who he is instead.”
“What happened to Duncan?”
“His withdrawal symptoms are getting worse and more frequent.” Lucy’s eyes burned with worry. “Time is running out for us to help him. I’ll be in touch.”
She disappeared into the darkness.
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The room was quiet. Or it would be, if not for the ticking of the old clock that only seemed to get more grating with each resounding echo. A man drummed his fingers on the table impatiently, looking at the cloudy night sky.
The full moon was hiding, but he could feel its call all the same. He looked away, trembling slightly as fur started to spread from his face to his hand. His eyes drifted to a painting of a woman beaming radiantly as he picked it up from his desk to calm himself.
If only you were here with me…
He set the portrait back down as a chill went down his spine. The man swivelled around, facing the entity that had just materialised in his room.
“You’re late, Leofric.” His voice was reduced to a whisper, trying to mask his discomfort. “You almost had me worried for a moment.”
The guest grinned, revealing a set of blood stained teeth as he tossed a black gem onto the desk. “That new auctioneer was long winded. Pity the previous one had to die prematurely.”
“Pity indeed…” the man reached for the gem. It glowed and turned into a wispy silver in colour as he clutched it tightly. The matted fur that had been covering his hand retreated, revealing a much paler skin underneath. He inhaled sharply, feeling the animalistic instinct within him shrink back under the jewel’s power.
“That makes two out of three,” Leofric said in his gravelly voice.
“I trust you are enjoying your increased power,” the man replied. “But even so, the gem’s magic is not enough to provide what you seek.”
“I am well aware of what else I need. Whether you will give it to me is another q-”
“I will. Go forth and collect your ingredients two weeks from now. Your prey will present itself at the right moment.”
“And they say our species were destined to be mortal enemies,” Leofric chuckled. “See you around, Boris.”
He vanished as quietly as he came, leaving the man alone with the ticking clock in the background again. The moon was in full view, but the man faced it with a small smile on his lips this time.
“We’ll be together again, I promise.”