Mason sat behind his desk, a low hum of conversation filling the room as he scanned over the latest messages from his contacts. His old teammate, Talonman, had reached out earlier in the day, and the weight of their conversation still lingered heavy on his mind. They’d talked about the missing child, a boy named Ennuy Null, who had disappeared from an orphanage long ago. That particular orphanage had been shrouded in darkness, with whispers of occult practices and human trafficking tied to the infamous Black Sabbath cult. Father Love, one of the orphanage’s caretakers, had already been apprehended, confessing to the hideous crimes under his watch. But Talonman wasn’t satisfied.
"It’s not Father Love," Talonman had said over the phone. "It’s Sister Georgina. She’s the one we need to worry about."
Talonman had recited some strange scripture the nun had been preaching to the children, something about Prometheus and the celestial realms, mixed with bits from different religious texts. It was disturbing, to say the least. Something about it sent a chill down Mason's spine.
"And our beloved Lord Prometheus," Talonman had quoted, his voice laced with unease, "descended from the celestial realms to vanquish the accursed god Ereshkigal from our mortal plane. Yeshu, his most devout disciple, beseeched him to bestow forgiveness upon all sentient beings, allowing our souls to traverse the cycles of samsara. Namaste!"
Mason could still hear the echo of Talonman’s voice, but his thoughts were interrupted by his grandson’s recent report. The boy had mentioned a dhampir enrolling at Rave U—Ennuy Null. The name had caught Mason's attention, and he dug deeper. What he found was unsettling: the dhampir had backing from Nosferatu, and every vampire in Ravetham had Valerian’s protection. That was reason enough to be cautious, even if Ennuy didn’t seem to pose an immediate threat.
Talonman was on his way from Dares Path, North Carolina, a six-hour drive. Mason was grateful it was Talonman and not someone like Rageous, who’d likely end up stirring trouble in Ravetham, a place where outsiders were easily crushed. Talonman was too smart for that, though, and Mason hoped this visit would simply be a check-up on the boy and nothing more.
Seraphis drummed her fingers against the marble table, her sharp red eyes narrowing as she listened to Aelira, the Drow Duchess. They’d been in negotiations for what felt like hours, discussing the expansion of Seraphis’ business into the Underdark, specifically Russia, which was crawling with intrigue and opportunity. But her mind was elsewhere. The thought of her egg—the one she had laid with Kaelen—still unhatched, gnawed at her. Fear simmered beneath her calm exterior, a fear she refused to show. Loren had tried to reassure her, saying that dragon eggs took time, especially for a child with the mixed blood of Kaelen's. But patience was not in Seraphis’ nature, and the longer it took, the more it enraged her.
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After finally finishing her meeting with Aelira, Seraphis decided to head to the Black Fang. It had come a long way from the modest club it once was. Now, thanks to her and Loren’s hard work, it was a full-fledged casino and social hub for Ravetham’s elite. She made her way there not only to unwind but also because they were hosting the funeral reception for Zagoth, her fallen brother. Oy Yo and Draken had organized the event, and Kaelen had agreed to hold it there.
The reception was a grand affair, as expected for a dragon of Zagoth’s stature. The Black Fang’s dark, gothic decor was adorned with crimson and black banners, and candles flickered everywhere, casting a warm glow over the crowd. The air was thick with smoke and the soft clinking of glasses. Draken had insisted on a traditional dragon’s funeral, which meant an abundance of fire, a pyre burning in Zagoth’s honor, and a celebration of life rather than mourning. Dragons from far and wide had come to pay their respects, some shifting between their humanoid and dragon forms in a display of power and grief.
Seraphis stood near the bar. There was a quiet intensity in her gaze as flames licked at the wood of the pyre. Draken and Oy Yo made the rounds, greeting guests and exchanging pleasantries, while Kaelen remained in the shadows, his thoughts unreadable.
Ennuy rubbed his swollen eye, still reeling from the unexpected blow. He had never been caught off guard like that before, not in all his years, not even at the orphanage where he had endured beatings under the harsh hand of Sister Georgina. But this was different. This boy—Adrian—had punched him square in the face, leaving Ennuy humiliated and with a throbbing headache. It was impressive, if not infuriating.
He leaned against the wall of the cafeteria, his breath shallow as he tried to steady himself. His mind raced, processing what had just happened. Adrian, it turned out, was the older brother of Selene, Celesse, and Xyra. The dark-skinned human with slitted blue eyes and black hair didn’t look anything like his dhampir sisters, and yet he held an air of authority that was undeniable. His blows had landed with precision, showing not only brute strength but also experience.
As Ennuy tried to gather his thoughts, Selene rushed up to him, her pale face flushed with concern. She wrapped her arms around him and kissed him, a surprising display of affection in front of the gathered crowd. “Even my older brother can’t stop me from being with you,” she whispered.
Ennuy’s chest tightened. Despite the throbbing pain in his head, there was something about Selene’s words that made him feel… wanted. It was something he hadn’t experienced in a long time, not since the orphanage where he was reminded daily of his ‘forsaken’ status. Sister Georgina’s voice still echoed in his head, her sermons laced with cruelty and punishment. "You must repent for your existence, boy," she’d say, often followed by a thousand lashes as she preached about the sins of his birth.
He glanced over at Charm, who stood in the corner, trying to mask her jealousy but failing to hide the slight pout on her lips. Ennuy found her adorable, but there was no comparison to Selene. He wasn’t interested in second best.
As he pulled Selene closer, his mind wandered to the conflict brewing between the Drakov sisters. Xyra and Celesse were always watching him, each in their own way. But Selene, she was the one he felt drawn to, the one who made him feel like he belonged somewhere. Even if that place was dangerous.