I held the small piece of paper Chief Harrow had given me, sitting alone in the gathering room. His sudden visit hadn't been entirely unexpected, but his request for the vial had caught me off guard. Elder Elenore had also asked for the vial of essence, sparking my curiosity as to why both clans—the hunters and the vampires—were so eager to get their hands on it. Offering me the exact location of Dylan's pack was another unexpected twist, one that seemed almost careless, if not self-incriminating.

Driven by curiosity, I rose and removed my mother's portrait from the wall, revealing the hidden metal box behind it. I set it on the table and opened it, finding the golden dagger and the vial undisturbed, just as I had left them. I picked up the vial, watching the thick black liquid inside swirl slowly as if it held a life of its own.

"What are you?" I whispered to myself, mesmerized by the hypnotic movement of the liquid.

I sighed, placing the vial back in the metal box and returning it to its hidden spot behind my mother's portrait. My primary concern now was verifying the coordinates Chief Harrow had given me before making any decisions about the mysterious vial. I needed to ensure this location wasn't a trap, designed to eliminate me or divert me from finding Harold.

Antolio and Derrick remain in a state of anticipation, waiting for me upstairs. I held my silence meticulously assembling all the details in my thoughts to chart the most suitable path forward. Sending them out for another round of recon might be a bit much, but I don't have much choice in the matter. I quickly left the room and went upstairs where Derrick and Antolio waited for my instructions.

"I apologize, I didn't mean to keep you waiting, but I have another favor to ask."

Derrick stepped forward. "What do you have in mind, young master?"

"I know you two just returned from the forest," I said, handing Derrick the paper with the coordinates, "but I need you to go back and scout this location for me."

Derrick's eyes widened as he read the paper. "Are these coordinates?"

I nodded. "Chief Harrow provided them, claiming it's the gathering point for Dylan's pack. I need to know if it's legitimate—and if it's safe. I require you and Antolio to assess the area and obtain all available intelligence. Should you encounter any trouble, avoid confrontation and withdraw immediately."

"Understood. Do we have a map?" Derrick asked.

"I thought we could use Harold's phone; it has a GPS," I said, grabbing Harold's backpack and pulling out his phone. But when I powered it on, there was no signal. "Scratch that—no service out here."

"Every estate keeps a copy of the town's map," Derrick said. "It should be around here somewhere. We just need to find it."

"Let's split up and check the study and any storage rooms," I said. "I'll check the basement. If we're lucky, we'll have the map in hand in a few minutes."

I went to the basement and retrieved the book from the stand in front of my mother's portrait. Flipping through its pages, I found what I remembered—a worn map of Adams Town and the surrounding mountainous regions.

"Found you," I whispered, pulling out the map and heading back upstairs. I spread it out on the dining table, where Derrick and Antolio joined me, leaning in as we studied the map together. They focused on the area aligned with the coordinates from Chief Harrow, an area deep within the mountains.

"The coordinates lead here, near the caves and the waterfall," Derrick said, pointing at the marked spot. "It's deep in the forest, incredibly secluded. If anything happens, we might not be able to return." He sighed, staring at the map. "Young master, this whole setup feels... off. Isn't it a bit suspicious he'd hand over this information so easily? An ambush is all they'd need to take us down."

"I agree. I have my doubts, too. I haven't ruled out the possibility that Chief Harrow could be involved in Harold's disappearance. He exchanged these coordinates for a new deal between our clans. And there's something else... he mentioned a vial, supposedly containing some kind of essence. It's part of a deal my mother made with him eighteen years ago, and he's adamant about getting it."

Derrick frowned. "A vial of essence? Do you have any idea what it contains?"

"None. But the fact that Harrow is so intent on obtaining it, makes me believe it holds power—perhaps it could be used in something he hopes to control. Whatever it is, it's connected to my mother and now, somehow, to me. I can't let them gain control over something I don't fully understand."

"Agreed," Derrick said. "You realize this might be a trap, right?"

"I haven't ruled out that possibility."

"Then, how should we proceed, young Master?"

"We stick to our plan for now. Approach the area cautiously and keep a low profile. When you reach the location, observe and gather as much information as possible. I don't want either of you engaging in any conflict—if there's trouble, withdraw immediately."

"Understood. We’ll keep a low profile and avoid any unnecessary risks."

"This vial is clearly of great importance to Chief Harrow, and until we understand why, it’s essential we remain one step ahead."

The vampires and the hunters are both after the vial. The mystery surrounding this essence continues to seethe in my mind, leaving me curious about why it holds such importance for them both. Antolio exchanged a few quick hand signals with Derrick, and a smile crept onto Derrick's face as he seemed to catch the message.

"Antolio seems to approve of the new vehicles. Are they part of a deal with the vampires?" Derrick asked.

"Yes, they're gifts from elder Elenore, given in return for securing a new treaty."

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

"We need to be cautious. Trusting the vampires is risky. It's only a matter of time before they start expecting favors in return, just like Harrow."

"I am aware of that detail. I'm already taking steps to have eyes and ears inside the Vernara Building. Like Chief Harrow, the elder has a request that requires my attention."

"What would a Vampire elder want with a werewolf clan?"

"The vial. The vampires have expressed their interest in this vial as well. I believe it is the same one Chief Harrow wants. I realized I needed to learn more about them and the way the government operates in Adams. Do you know anyone skilled enough in maneuvering the financial structure and bureaucracy of the clans?"

"You don't mind a human handling the clan's finances? I have a cousin; her name is Beth. She is some kind of genius when it comes to numbers."

"That might be exactly what I need. Bring her to me, I want to have a conversation with her."

"As you command, young Master."

After sending Derrick and Antolio on their mission, I headed up to my room, with the intention on reviewing the elder's message. Closing the door behind me, I settled onto the bed, reaching for the messenger's bag.

Inside the bag, I found a stack of documents detailing old assets my mother once owned, now liquidated to settle past debts owed to the Scarlet Clan. In each paper, a secondary debtor appeared as 'Curtis Reinhart', a name completely unfamiliar to me. My eyes quickly caught on a sealed letter; its black wax seal stamped with two gargoyles facing each other—a formal mark of the Royal Vampires.

I broke the seal and read:

The Scarlet Clan acknowledges Tobias Reinhart as the leader of the Black Lotus Clan.

The letter formally recognized me as the clan's leader, though I knew that the werewolves themselves might not be willing to accept me in that role. As I read further, I discovered that all remaining assets and funds tied to my family's legacy were being transferred to an account under my name, but with vampire oversight. It was a strategic move—one that could easily allow the vampires to manipulate the estate's finances to their advantage.

I recognized the necessity of assembling a team of individuals I could trust implicitly to oversee every aspect of the state. A skilled political strategist, someone well-versed in the complexity of clan politics and negotiations. Additionally, an accountant is essential to manage the newly acquired Reinhart fortune, while I focus on restructuring the Black Lotus clan. This undertaking will be challenging, but it's imperative to put in the effort to restore the estate's prominence on the map.

A surplus of documents spilled out from the messenger's bag, revealing past due bills from the restoration team for their previous services, as well as charges to the account for the estate maintenance. Now after acquiring all this information, I began to question my father's story about getting this property at a "bargain." His tale of an easy online purchase now seemed dubious at best.

Then, unexpectedly, two knocks resounded at my door. "My lord, are you occupied?"

I swung the door open to find Annie standing there in a striking red dress that exuded a provocative allure.

"Never too occupied to attend to you," I said, gazing at her. "Red suits you fantastically."

"Thank you, my lord. As you requested, my mother is here. Please be aware, though, that her English is limited as my parents are immigrants. I would be honored to translate if she doesn't understand your questions. I hope this won't be an inconvenience."

"Not at all. Let's meet in the dining room—I have many questions for her."

After quickly changing into fresh clothes, I descended the stairs and entered the dining room, where Annie's mother was already seated at the table.

"Welcome," I said, greeting her.

The old woman smiled. "Buonasera, mio signore."

She rose from the table, stepping close to me and gently touching my face as if greeting a long-lost son. "You look, so much like her," she said, in a bold accent.

She quickly turned around facing Annie. "Annie, sei stata morsa?"

"No, Madre. And I don't think you should be asking those questions in front of the young master."

The conversation quickly deviated into a family discussion. Annie's cheeks turned a shade of pink after hearing her mother's comments, suggesting that whatever her mother asked, might be embarrassing in nature. Curious of what Annie's mother had asked her, I decided to inquire about their conversation.

"If you don't mind me asking, what did your mother say to you?"

"She... wanted to know if I'd been bitten. It's an old-world superstition, my lord, nothing you should concern yourself with."

The old woman stepped closer to her daughter, taking her hand. "You shouldn't keep him waiting, Annie. The crimson moon will disappear in a few days, and you'll miss the chance to become a Luna wolf."

I felt a tension ripple through Annie as she clenched her fists, visibly unsettled by her mother's words. "Madre! Concentrati sulle sue domande!"

"All right, all right. No need to get so worked up over a simple question," her mother said, shrugging it off before turning her attention back to me. "My name is Lydia, Lydia De 'Amano. Annie mentioned you were seeking my help."

"That's correct. It's a tremendous pleasure meeting you."

Lydia turned to her daughter, confused. Sensing her mother’s hesitation, Annie stepped in to translate. "È un enorme piacere conoscerti."

"Ah, yes," Lydia said, shaking my hand.

"I understand you served the Reinharts for a long time. Do you remember the last leaders of the werewolf clan?"

Annie stepped beside her mother, helping her sit back down. "Madre, vuole chiederti chi hai servito in questa casa?"

The old woman smiled. Of course, I remember, "La Signora Helena e il Signor Curtis."

"She said they served under Helena and Curtis, my lord." Annie translated.

Immediately, a sudden realization flooded my mind, and a new name emerged as an unexpected puzzle piece. His name had appeared alongside my mother's in the documents provided by the Royal Vampires, yet Annie's mother's confirmation of his existence complicated things further. Perhaps there was more truth to what Chief Harrow had implied about Harold.

"Do you remember a man named Harold?"

Lydia's face tightened, and a shade of fear clouded her eyes. "Unfortunately, yes. I remember Mr. Heckler. I never liked the man; he was... very persistent."

Her hesitation and the sudden drop in her tone of voice hinted that there was much about Harold I had yet to uncover. "Please elaborate. I want to know what happened to my parents eighteen years ago."

"I'm afraid I can't do that. I made a promise to the lady of the house that I would keep her secrets, that I would not speak of what happened to anyone."

I sighed, recognizing the loyalty Lydia held—similar to Chief Harrow's unwavering dedication. "I understand, and I respect your loyalty. But you need to know something. My mother was killed by another werewolf two months ago." Lydia's eyes widened, as sadness flickered across her face. "Please, tell me what happened back then, and why you fear speaking about Harold."

Lydia glanced at Annie, then looked back at me, her expression troubled. "It's a difficult story, Signore. Harold came here as your mother's political advisor, but he was never content in that role. He wanted more... control. He tried many times to sway Helena's loyalty and even attempted to influence Curtis. There were whispers that he... dabbled in forbidden practices, and made secret deals with the vampires, things that went against the clan's code. He was... too ambitious, and I fear it might have led to..."

Lydia clasped her hands together, her gaze falling to the table. For a long moment, she was silent, then finally, she took a shaky breath. "Your mother… she knew there were those who wanted power, those who would betray their kin to claim it. Harold was one of those men. He was close to her, but he wanted control over the clan, over everything. Helena saw through his ambitions, but she kept him close, hoping she could temper him, and guide him. But…" Lydia’s voice faltered, and Annie gently placed a hand on her shoulder.

Lydia looked up, and her eyes filled with grief. "Your mother was a strong leader, but she paid the price for holding so many secrets. She wanted to protect you, and I think… she knew Harold was dangerous, but she didn’t want you to grow up in fear. I kept her secrets out of loyalty, but also out of respect. Harold was… he was never what he seemed."