Sunset tried to curse, but Harry cut him off and told him not to interfere. For a few minutes, the wizard completely withdrew from the conversation, simply closing his eyes. Even I could feel how the magical energy in the room thickened. It became easier to breathe, and my muscles seemed to fill with power and energy, making my fingers twitch involuntarily. A dangerous and deceptive sensation.

My concealment-revealing amulet went berserk, stabbing into my skin like tiny needles. I had to take it off.

"There are two bloodsuckers," Harry said, opening his eyes. "A teacher and a master."

The illusion of power dissipated. A master? Damn it.

Sunset swore in time with my thoughts. Harry, however, didn’t seem bothered by the guests at all. I imagine they wouldn’t have impressed cousin Evan either – or Logan, for that matter. Well, perhaps a master might. But they were far stronger than me, and I couldn’t afford to overestimate myself.

Yesterday’s bloodsucker had been nothing but a young fighter, and he’d nearly sent me to the grave. Now we were dealing with a master vampire who could easily have six centuries of experience under his belt. Six hundred years… No, wait. If it’s Lindemann at the gate, didn’t the vicar say their patriarch was younger than the rest? That could mean a difference of a hundred years – or three. Which still doesn’t save me.

"Cap… um, Nathan!" Harry called, seemingly deciding to avoid using nicknames in front of outsiders.

The boy darted in from the direction of the kitchen.

"There are guests at the gate. Escort them to the small sitting room we cleaned up yesterday."

I didn’t like the idea. They wouldn’t choke on a boy like him.

"Maybe I should go instead?"

"They don’t care about him," Harry replied. "And there’s a white flag." Then he turned back to the boy. "Don’t show fear. Learn to keep your composure."

The boy nodded hesitantly and left.

"Clint," Harry called again. "There’s an old tea set in the kitchen cabinet. Bring it to the small sitting room and brew some chamomile tea. In the meantime, I suggest we relocate."

The small sitting room was located on the first floor, in the left-front corner of the mansion. It was a spacious room with an oval table that could seat ten, a couple of empty cabinets too bulky for the previous owners to bother taking with them, and wide windows that flooded the space with morning sunlight.

The only out-of-place object was a chair by the window overlooking the scruffy park. Still, the faint, poorly wiped traces of a teacup on the windowsill suggested Harry liked to sit there. That was probably why the room had been cleaned.

"Take a seat," Harry suggested, grabbing the back of a chair facing the door.

I quickly took the spot next to him, while Sunset chose the seat beside me. He ordered the constables to unfasten the flaps of their holsters and position themselves by the window, close to the door. The inspector was seriously preparing for a fight, white flag be damned. I had a feeling his choice to sit near me wasn’t accidental either.

"Harry, in honor of old debts," the policeman requested, "let me do the talking."

"You can’t," I cut in. "Not with bloodsuckers. The person they address must speak. The worst thing you can do is let them sense weakness or fear."

"Well, you’re the expert on talking, aren’t you?" Sunset snapped.

"Let’s not, Inspector," I said. "We’ve both said things driven by our own perspectives and goals, but the situation has changed. If the vampires notice any tension between us..."

"They’ll immediately try to drive a wedge," Sunset finished. "Boy, I don’t need your theory. I’ve been dealing with bloodsuckers since before you could even crawl under a table."

"Respect, sir," I replied evenly. "Let’s change the tone of this conversation and start with mutual respect."

Sunset growled in annoyance but took two deep breaths.

"You’re right, Lord Loxlin. We’ll do it your way this time. I’ll stay silent unless the situation spirals out of control."

"I have no intention of staying silent!" Smith declared.

"Then say everything at once, Sir Harry," I suggested. "And try not to make threats prematurely. Just outline the rules the guests need to follow in this house."

"No problem!"

"Harry," Sunset pleaded, "just don’t go overboard."

We managed to calm ourselves and fell silent – at least outwardly. Inside, I was shivering, and I had to keep reminding myself that it was daylight outside – not the most favorable time for bloodsuckers. Even so, I nearly jumped when Knuckles burst into the sitting room, rattling porcelain on a tray.

But when Cap brought in the vampires, I even managed to force a smile. It nearly froze on my face when Harry greeted them.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he asked.

The vampires stopped dead in their tracks.

The woman in the red dress and wide-brimmed hat with a veil took a threatening step forward but was halted by a hand in a white leather glove.

The man in a cream-colored three-piece suit adjusted his wide-brimmed hat, removed his large sunglasses, and replied,

"Good morning to you too, Sir Harry."

"Don’t give me that crap. You’re not laying a hand on the boy. You can talk, but I wouldn’t recommend any sudden moves."

"I’ve heard politeness isn’t one of your strong suits..." the vampire quipped.

"You got the message," Harry retorted, motioning to the chair in front of him.

"Gentlemen," the vampire greeted, slightly tipping his hat. We nodded curtly in response. He sat down in the indicated chair and lifted his hat into the air in such a way that it cast a shadow over his face, shielding it from the sunlight streaming through the windows. The woman behind him caught the hat smoothly, freeing her father’s hands. She froze in that position, holding the hat steady to ensure the shadow continued to shield his face.

"We haven’t been introduced yet, young man," the vampire said. "Allow me to introduce myself: Lucas Jordy Lindemann."

Lying or hiding my identity seemed like a poor choice. My name alone might protect me better than anything else.

"Duncan Magnus Kinkaid, Baron Loxlin," I replied.

"Bremor clan?" the vampire said, his surprise revealing an unexpected awareness.

I nodded, and the bloodsucker fell into thought.

"I take it mister Sunset is here because of last night’s disturbances?"

The inspector nodded.

"Your son caused quite a ruckus yesterday. The police have several questions for him."

"I’m afraid he won’t be able to answer," Lucas said. "He’s dead."

Sunset’s face displayed a silent question, though not one of surprise.

"Don’t look at me," Lucas added. "I would’ve been glad to rip his head off myself, but I imagine Lord Loxlin beat me to it."

Why "rip his head off"? And why specifically "rip"? Did the bastard know something, or was it just a coincidence?

"Lord Loxlin!?" Sunset asked, his tone suggesting this wasn’t the first time he’d posed such a question.

"Yes?"

"What do you know about the death of the vampire who attacked you?"

"Absolutely nothing," I lied, looking the bloodsucker in the eye. For some reason, this seemed to amuse him, so I decided to clarify. "We left…" I almost said ‘the body,’ "at the scene of the incident."

"He was alive?" Lindemann asked with a sly smile.

"I didn’t check."

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

"How careless," Lucas said with the same smile. "Enemies should be finished off."

Is he threatening me? Likely. Even Harry tensed, as if trying not to say something reckless. I hurried to respond.

"You’re absolutely right. Next time, I won’t make that mistake."

"You’re a dangerous man, my Lord. Still a young one, but already quite decisive and capable. I’d like to apologize for the actions of my children..." Lucas paused, emphasizing the plural, ensuring I caught the implication before continuing. "Boys tend to get out of control more often than girls. It’s our nature, and there’s no cure for it. Unfortunately, one must act harshly in such cases. That’s the duty of a father. I’m glad that responsibility passed me by this time – thank you. Let’s be friends."

What!?

"Your son tried to kill me," I reminded him.

"And in doing so, he stupidly endangered the nest, his father, and his prince," Lindemann replied seriously. "I have no desire for war, nor for losses. I would prefer friendship."

You can’t trust a bloodsucker. Grandfather had said it many times – they live for intrigue. What do I even say to that? My brain felt like it was locking up.

"War is not an option," I managed, latching onto his last phrase.

"I’m glad to hear that. I understand we’re still far from friendship, but you can always count on my help. Don’t hesitate to ask. And give my regards to the young ladies."

Again, the plural. If there had been any doubt left from his earlier words, this practically spelled it out – he’d forgiven me for both. But vampires don’t forgive. Those who attain the status of "father" simply learn to control their emotions, prioritizing advantage above all else. A "friendship" with me would indeed benefit him.

The vampire took the hat his daughter was still holding and rose to his feet.

"Gentlemen, I bid you good day. No need to see me out – I remember the way."

For a while, we sat in stunned silence. Sunset was the first to break it.

"You lucky son of a bitch! With all due respect, my lord."

"With all your respect, I absolutely disagree. I don’t think a vampire’s offer of friendship can end in anything good."

"Perhaps," the inspector replied. "But the important thing is that the city will avoid major bloodshed for the time being. By the way, which ladies was he referring to? Witnesses only saw you with one girl."

"He probably misspoke..." I suggested.

"Ah-ha," Sunset snorted, opening his mouth to add something else – only to be interrupted by Knuckles.

"Uh, excuse me, gentlemen, should I serve the tea now?"

"Go ahead," Harry permitted and then turned to Sunset. "The boys can stand down. The bloodsuckers are gone. Wait!"

Harry froze with that distant, unfocused look again. By the time Knuckles had poured the fragrant chamomile tea into cups, Harry was smiling with satisfaction.

"You’ve got another visitor, Duncan," he said.

I tensed but noticed the wizard’s expression was oddly pleased.

"Care to explain?"

"Flower’s come to visit. Looks like he’s here to grill you about his sister."

"Should I escort him in?" Cap eagerly offered.

Harry shook his head.

"His third eye is as developed as mine," the wizard explained.

"What’s with his eyes, anyway?" I asked, recalling those eerie whites with misty, pupil-less irises.

"He’s blind," Sunset answered.

"That’s it? No details?"

"It’s a long and unpleasant story," Sunset said. "The boy barely escaped the gallows."

"Not by chance," Harry said. "He prepared well."

"And what role did you play in that affair?" Sunset asked.

"What are you implying, John?!" Harry widened his eyes in mock surprise, his sly smile barely hidden behind his cup of herbal tea.

"Harry!" someone shouted from the foyer.

"In here!" the wizard called back.

A few seconds later, James Flower walked into the sitting room, holding my jacket.

"Knuckles… uh, Clint set another place. Been a while, James."

"Gentlemen," the sorcerer greeted, nodding politely. "May I have a word with the young man in private?"

"Oh, we’re all friends here," Harry replied, clearly enjoying the situation. "Don’t be shy."

"Harry…"

"Threatening this fool is pointless," the wizard said. "And I won’t let you use force. Now sit down already."

James hung my freshly cleaned jacket over the back of the nearest chair and sat in the one previously occupied by the vampire. Sunlight streamed onto his face and over his vacant eyes, but the sorcerer didn’t even flinch. He simply thanked Knuckles when the boy placed a cup of rosehip tea in front of him.

At first, we drank in silence.

"He dragged my sister into trouble," Flower finally said, complaining like a tattling child.

"Not entirely true, it was…" I paused, remembering Sunset’s presence. "Ahem…"

"As Harry said," the detective chimed in, "we’re all friends here. Go on, Lord Loxlin."

James’s cheek twitched at the mention of my title. Apparently, Spark hadn’t mentioned that detail.

"Perhaps we should talk privately?" I suggested.

Harry looked disappointed.

"You’re depriving me of entertainment."

"You can eavesdrop," I offered.

"And what about respect?" Sunset interjected sarcastically. "You’re basically throwing me out of the room."

"In that case, why don’t I quickly give my testimony? Or should I come down to the station? Either way, Lindemann admitted his son’s guilt, no one else was harmed, and the conflict has been resolved."

The interrogation was conducted on the spot, right in front of Flower. Sunset asked a few tricky questions, which I tried to sidestep tactfully. I wasn’t sure how successful I was, but after Lucas Lindemann’s admission, the outcome of the investigation was fairly predictable. Whether he liked it or not, Sunset had to take his leave.

I tried to part on good terms with the inspector. Yes, we’d butted heads, but this was more a clash of professional interests than a reason to spoil relations.

Once Harry left to see the inspector out, it was just me and Flower, alone at the table.

"You dragged my sister into trouble," he repeated stubbornly, propping his elbow on the table and conjuring a small, glowing orb of sunlight in his hand.

I winced at the bright light.

"Let’s skip the theatrics, Lord. The first time – with the kettle – it didn’t work, so why do you think it will now?"

James snapped his fingers, extinguishing the sun orb.

"Thank you," I said, massaging my closed eyelids. Colored spots danced in my vision. "So I take it Finella didn’t tell you everything?"

"She said it was her idea to persuade you to take her to the club."

"In a sense, that’s true. Did she tell you we killed a vampire yesterday?"

"She did."

"And about the one we took care of the day before?"

The sorcerer’s jaws tightened, his hand twitched, and I felt a wave of heat radiating from him. Let’s assume that meant ‘no.’

I took a sip of the herbal tea, wetting my throat before speaking, and gave a brief summary of events. Naturally, I ‘forgot’ to mention that it was Ellie who had blown the brains out of the first vampire. I didn’t bring it up at all and described the incident as a fatal accident. Of course, I had to recount the entire story from the beginning – starting with my arrival and meeting the Sparrow brothers.

"So, you can blame me all you want for what happened, Lord," I said, "but if it weren’t for me, the girls might’ve made a mess of things in the slums."

"They would’ve just taken Nathan and left," he countered.

"And then another child would’ve died, and the killings would’ve continued."

"I’m no saint," Lord Flower said. "In this city, ten or twenty people die every day. But their fate doesn’t concern me as much as my sister’s. Stay away from her. And I suggest you avoid returning to the Wilcox residence."

James rose to his feet.

"Advice for advice," I said. "You can’t protect your sister forever or shield her from real life."

"I’ll still try. Good day, Lord Loxlin."

"And to you, Lord Flower."

But James didn’t leave immediately. Harry dragged him off to his study, and they talked there for quite a while. During that time, Cap managed to boil a few eggs and a pot of oatmeal for breakfast. We ate together with the Sparrow brothers. Harry seemed rushed, frequently glancing at the clock and wolfing down hot porridge.

"Bloody hell!" he swore, sending bits of porridge flying onto the table and into his beard. His gaze unfocused. "What’s that bastard doing here?!"

"Want me to escort him?" Cap offered eagerly.

"No… Better send Duncan. You never know what kind of mischief that scoundrel might be up to."

I tensed but decisively applied some ointment to my third eye.

"Who is it?"

"Fairburn’s enforcer. Waving a white flag at the gate, just like the vampires."

I threw on my jacket and headed to the gate. The brute noticed me from a distance and lowered his makeshift flag – a broomstick with a piece of bedsheet tied to it.

"Mr. Belor," I greeted him calmly. The brute looked visibly nervous.

"Sir – uh, um – Lord, I mean. Lord…"

"Mr. Belor, stop wasting time."

"Lord L-l-l…"

"Loxlin," I prompted him.

"Lord Loxlin, would you be willing to meet with Sir August at the Clarabar?"

"Where?"

"You’ve been there before."

"The restaurant across from the bank?" I asked, noting how energetically Belor nodded. He was being overly agreeable today – practically bending over backward. "The service there is terrible," I replied, rejecting the offer.

"Uh… perhaps another location?"

"There’s a small café across from the police station in Pubset. They’ve got good blood sausages and pork cutlets. Shame I don’t remember the name, but we can meet there. If August is interested, I’ll be there…" I pulled out my pocket watch. Quarter to ten. Harry would be working with the ley lines until noon, maybe longer, and he was already behind schedule. If he saw we’d parted peacefully, he might rush off to finish his work – and I still had depleted amulets and a cluttered mind to deal with. "Three – no, four," I said. "We can meet there at four a.m. Good day, Mr. Belor."

"And to you, Lord."

I returned to the mansion at a brisk pace, breaking into a jog as soon as I was hidden among the trees of the park, hoping to catch Harry before he locked himself away. But the wizard was already waiting for me.

"Well?"

"August wants a meeting."

"Hope you told him to piss off?"

"Not quite. Meeting’s set for four. Café in front of Sunset’s station. I’ll drop by the station first. Also need to recharge my amulets. I won’t bother you if I siphon a bit off the door, will I?" I asked, gesturing toward the door of the hall where Harry had been drawing in nearby magical flows.

"Just don’t burn your stuff out. There’ll be power spikes in an hour. And wait for me before the meeting. We’ll discuss it."

With that, Harry shut himself in the hall, and I went to change into simple clothes to avoid wearing out my suit. It had cost me a pretty penny.