I followed Faith down a busy London street, my heels clicking against the pavement. The building she led me to looked remarkably ordinary - just another generic office complex with mirrored windows and a sleek modern facade.

"This is it?" I asked, eyeing the unremarkable entrance.

"What were you expecting? Gothic spires and gargoyles?" Faith smirked, holding the door for me.

The lobby matched the exterior's mundane appearance - potted plants, a security desk, and bland corporate artwork on beige walls. A bored-looking guard barely glanced up from his newspaper as Faith flashed her ID.

We stepped into the elevator, its polished surfaces reflecting our glamoured forms. Faith hit a complex sequence of floor buttons: 3, 5, 2, basement, 4. The panel lit up in an intricate pattern.

Instead of rising, the elevator began descending smoothly. The floor indicator showed B1, then B2, continuing past what should have been the building's foundation.

"How far down does this go?" I watched the numbers tick past B7.

"Far enough." Faith's stance shifted subtly, becoming more alert and professional. "The surface building is just a front. Most of our actual operations happen underground."

The elevator continued its descent, the soft hum of machinery the only sound between us. I counted the basement levels as they passed - B12, B13, B14. Finally, at B15, the cabin slowed to a stop.

A soft chime announced our arrival, and the doors opened to reveal a stark contrast to the mundane lobby above.

The elevator doors opened to reveal a bustling underground complex that felt more like a high-tech military base than a government office. People rushed past carrying everything from mundane manila folders to glowing crystals and what looked like silver-plated weaponry.

"Morning, Faith!" A tall man with glasses waved as he hurried past, juggling an armful of scrolls.

"Hey Tom," Faith replied, leading me through the organized chaos.

More greetings followed as we navigated the corridors. I recognized several faces from the café earlier, their suspicious glances now replaced with professional nods. The whole floor hummed with activity - phones ringing, printers whirring, and occasional bursts of what sounded like magical discharge from behind closed doors.

"This is VCD - Vampire Control Division," Faith explained, gesturing to the department logo on the wall. "We investigate unauthorized vampire activity, track rogue bloodsuckers, and keep the peace between registered vampires and humans."

We entered a large open office space filled with cubicles and investigation boards. My heart skipped when I spotted Martin and Jessica, who Faith had introduced as her "artist friends" during game nights with Liam. They were dressed in tactical gear now, not the casual clothes I remembered.

"Faith, who's your friend?" Jessica asked, her hand casually resting near what looked like a stake holster.

"This is Lily. She's going to help us with the Liam case - V-03419." Faith turned to me. "Though I need to clear it with Galahad first."

More faces I recognized from the café appeared, studying me with barely concealed suspicion. These weren't random patrons after all, but trained agents who'd been watching our meeting.

"The boss is in his office," Martin said, still eyeing me carefully. "Might want to catch him before he heads to the weekly briefing."

Faith nodded. "Thanks. Come on, Lily."

As we walked through the office, I caught snippets of conversation about blood bank robberies, territory disputes, and something called a "daywalker incident." The surreal nature of it all - seeing Faith's carefully constructed cover story fall away, revealing this hidden world of supernatural investigation - left me feeling oddly exposed.

I followed Faith down a sterile hallway lined with ancient weapons and magical artifacts in glass cases. She stopped at a heavy oak door with a brass nameplate reading "Galahad Corbenic - Division Chief."

Faith knocked twice before entering. The office inside felt like stepping through time - modern computer monitors sat alongside medieval tapestries, while crystalline orbs glowed softly on antique bookshelves.

Behind a massive mahogany desk sat a man who looked no older than twenty-five, with long light brown hair and strange golden eyes that seemed to glow in the dim light. He wore an impeccably tailored suit beneath a weathered long coat that seemed out of place in the climate-controlled office.

"Sir," Faith straightened her posture. "I need to discuss something urgent regarding case V-03419."

Galahad's eyes swept over me, analytical and piercing. Those golden irises held centuries of knowledge behind their youthful appearance. "Agent Clarke, what exactly is she doing here? If I'm not mistaken, this person was the target of today's operation."

Clarke? The name caught me off guard. Faith had used a different surname when we dated. Then again, it made sense - an agent would use aliases in the field. The fact she'd even kept her real first name struck me as odd now that I thought about it.

"I had good reason for my actions, sir." Faith's voice remained steady despite his scrutiny.

"It better be an excellent reason." Galahad leaned back in his chair. "You not only made unauthorized contact but brought an unknown subject into a secure facility."

Faith's shoulders tensed. "I apologize for acting independently, sir. I needed to verify she wasn't involved in Liam's disappearance."

"I understand this case is personal for you, Agent Clarke." Galahad's tone softened slightly. "But you can't let emotions compromise operational security." His unsettling golden eyes locked onto mine. "After all, who knows what her true intentions might be?"

I met Galahad's piercing gaze. "My intentions are exactly what I told Faith - I want to find out what happened to Liam. When she offered to work together, it seemed like the logical choice."

"A convenient explanation." Galahad's golden eyes narrowed. "Yet our records show no trace of your existence before three months ago. No birth certificate, no social media, not even a parking ticket." He spread his hands on the desk. "That leaves us with two possibilities - you're either inhuman, or exceptionally skilled at concealment. Perhaps both. Which is it?"

I glanced at Faith, who gave me a slight nod. No point hiding it now.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

"I'm a succubus." The words felt strange, admitting it so directly. "Though I prefer to keep that particular detail private."

"A demon of lust." Galahad's expression remained neutral. "That explains the lack of records. Though it raises the question of why a succubus would take such interest in a missing human."

"Because Liam was... important to me." My voice wavered for the first time since entering the office. "More than I can explain. His disappearance is personal."

"And we're meant to simply trust the word of a demon?" His tone carried centuries of scepticism.

"I've already been honest about what I am. I could have maintained a human facade, but I chose not to." I leaned forward slightly. "I'm not asking for blind trust - just the chance to help find answers."

Galahad pinched the bridge of his nose. "Of all the supernatural creatures you could have brought into our facility, Agent Clarke, you chose a demon." His golden eyes flickered with centuries of weariness. "The one type of being our charter specifically warns against trusting. Demons invariably place their own interests above all else."

I couldn't entirely disagree with his assessment. Most demons were fundamentally selfish, rarely forming relationships that weren't based on convenience or ulterior motives.

Yet something didn't sit right with his blanket statement. My friendship with Isabella and Aria proved demons could form genuine bonds. The way we looked out for each other in the northern caves, how we shared intimate moments - there was real trust there.

Though perhaps succubi were different from other demons in that regard. I couldn't really say for certain, given my limited interaction with other demon types. My experience was mostly confined to the Academy and its inhabitants.

But when it came to demon-mortal relationships, Galahad's words rang painfully true. I'd seen how Aria and Isabella viewed humans - as disposable playthings at best. They wouldn't hesitate to betray a mortal if it benefited them even slightly.

Some demons didn't even need a reason beyond their own amusement. The pleasure cults, the torture chambers, the endless ways demons found to torment mortals for entertainment...

Most demons didn't even consider mortals as living creatures worthy of basic consideration. It reminded me of children burning ants with magnifying glasses - casual cruelty born of viewing the victims as insignificant, beneath notice or empathy.

"I notice you don't deny it," Galahad said, his golden eyes studying my reaction.

"Because it's mostly true." I met his gaze steadily. "But does that matter when my personal interests align perfectly with yours?"

Galahad leaned back in his chair, fingers drumming against the polished desk. The rhythmic tapping echoed in the silence as he considered my words. His weathered coat shifted as he crossed his arms, the fabric whispering of countless battles and centuries of duty.

"For now." He pushed away from the desk. "Very well. I'll trust you - provisionally."

His attention shifted to Faith, his expression hardening. "But understand this, Agent Clarke. If anything goes wrong, if this demon compromises our operation in any way, you'll bear the consequences."

Faith straightened her spine, chin lifting. "I understand, sir."

"Good." Galahad's chair creaked as he settled back. "Then brief our new 'outside consultant' on the case." His tone made clear exactly what he thought of that designation.

Faith and I stepped out of Galahad's office into the stark hallway. The moment the door clicked shut, Faith's shoulders sagged and she released a long breath.

"That went better than I expected."

"What were you expecting?" I glanced back at the closed door. "Him to smite me on the spot?"

"Something like that." Faith's lips twitched. "Come on, I'll introduce you to the team handling the case."

She led me through a maze of corridors to an open workspace filled with desks and investigation boards. Several agents looked up as we entered, their expressions ranging from curious to suspicious.

"Everyone, this is Lily. She's helping us with the Liam case." Faith gestured around the room. "Lily, meet the team."

"Agent James Scott, our surveillance specialist," Faith introduced. "Richard Smith, tactical operations. You've seen them at the café earlier."

The two men exchanged glances. James drummed his fingers on his desk while Richard crossed his arms, both radiating scepticisms. Their body language screamed distrust, yet neither voiced their concerns - likely due to Faith's presence.

"Laura Jones and Cale Alder, our field agents." Faith gestured to the pair I'd known as Jessica and Martin Faith's 'Artist' friends. "They handle most of our direct operations."

I nodded, maintaining a neutral expression despite the surreal feeling of being introduced to people I'd once known under completely different circumstances.

Two unfamiliar agents sat near the back. Faith pointed them out. "Marcus Chen, our tech expert, and Diana Reed, supernatural profiler."

The team's unease filled the room like a thick fog. Their stiff postures and darting glances painted a clear picture - I wasn't welcome here.

"They'll warm up to you," Faith whispered, leading me away from the group. "Can't blame them really. A few hours ago, you were a target of our operation."

"And now I'm helping with the investigation." I raised an eyebrow. "Quite the promotion."

"The team trusts my judgment." Faith's lips curved into a half-smile. "Besides, Galahad approved it. That carries weight around here."

She guided me to her desk, a neat workspace with multiple monitors displaying various surveillance feeds. Faith pulled open a drawer, retrieving a thick manila folder marked 'V-03419'.

"This should get you up to speed." She handed me the file. "Don't worry about the redacted sections - just standard protocol for sensitive information."

I flipped open the folder, scanning through the contents as I sat down in an empty chair. My eyes caught on familiar details - my birthday, education history, employment records. Strange seeing Liam's life, my life condensed into clinical bullet points and case notes.

The file detailed magical anomalies detected around me, Faith's surveillance mission, and my disappearance. Recent updates mentioned sightings with vampires and notes about my apparent compliance with them.

I closed the file, my mind racing with questions about the magical traces found around my old body. The clinical language and redacted sections made it difficult to piece together the full picture.

"Any questions?" Faith leaned against her desk, arms crossed.

"Actually, yes." I tapped the section about magical anomalies. "This residual spell you found on Liam in 2022 - do you know what it was?"

Faith shook her head. "The residue was too weak to get a proper reading. Whatever it was, it dissipated within a year."

"What about the traces you found after his disappearance?" I flipped to the relevant page, pointing at the notes about magical signatures.

"That's more complicated." Faith pulled up some images on her monitor showing various patterns. "We found residue consistent with vampire rituals - specifically the kind they use to create minions. But there was something else mixed in that we couldn't identify. The vampire magic interfered with our readings of the other signature."

I frowned at the patterns displayed on the screen. The largest signature pulsed in angry red, while beneath it, barely visible, lurked another pattern in muted gold.

"Could you tell anything about this second signature?" I gestured at the golden pattern.

"Not much." Faith pulled up another image, this one showing a more detailed scan. "It's old - far older than the vampire magic. And powerful, but that's all we could determine. The ritual signatures overwhelmed our detection equipment."

Faith leaned forward, her dark eyes fixed on mine. "Since you're looking for Liam, I assume you came here with some method to track him down?"

"Actually, yes." I shifted in my chair. "I prepared ingredients for a few tracking spells that might help find him."

"We've already tried tracking spells." Faith's mouth tightened. "Mostly to no avail."

I hesitated, weighing my next words carefully. There was something else, but revealing it could raise uncomfortable questions.

"What is it?" Faith caught my hesitation immediately.

I drew a breath, deciding to share at least part of the truth. "There's quite a possibility that someone else is in Liam's body. Someone very dangerous."

Faith's eyes narrowed, measuring me with a calculating gaze. "What makes you think that?"

I avoided mentioning what I'd learned in hell - that would only lead to more questions I couldn't answer. Instead, I focused on the practical evidence.

"When I tried tracking Liam for the first time, he detected my spell and blocked it." I met her gaze steadily. "Liam didn't know any magic."

Faith nodded slowly, her fingers drumming against her desk. Most people wouldn't notice, but I'd spent enough time with her as Liam to catch the slight tension in her jaw, the way her shoulders stiffened. The news that someone might have taken over my body clearly disturbed her.

"That is troubling." She picked up a pen, turning it between her fingers. "It complicates things significantly."

The fluorescent lights hummed overhead as Faith fell silent, lost in thought. Around us, the other agents continued their work, but I noticed their occasional glances in our direction.

"Your tracking spells," Faith said suddenly, setting down the pen. "They might work differently than our attempts. The supernatural often responds uniquely to different practitioners."

She stood up, straightening her jacket. "There's a safehouse we can use for the attempts. Somewhere private, away from civilian areas in case something goes wrong."

"When do we start?"

"Now." Faith gathered her keys and phone. "No point wasting time."