I headed down to the basement and stepped into the gathering room again. I needed to understand why this vial of essence was important for Chief Harrow as well as the vampire elder. I sighed, staring at my mother's portrait, carefully removing it, and retrieving the black box from the compartment in the wall. I opened the lid, retrieved the vial and the dagger, and then placed them in a leather bag.

As I stepped out of my room, I spotted Annie, who paused as she approached.

"My mother should be arriving any time now, my lord. Dinner will be ready shortly. Are you preparing to leave the house?"

"It will be a short trip into town. We will be back in a couple of hours."

"I'll be waiting, my Lord. And... I've placed the messenger's bag on your bed. Please don't forget to respond to the elder promptly. She tends to get a bit... impatient."

I went back into my room and closed the door, glancing at the bag the vampires had delivered earlier, wondering about the elder's new request. I took the bag and emptied its contents over the bed. Only one item fell out—a worn, ancient book with the Royal Vampire crest etched on its cover, and a note attached to it. The note was not from the elder, it was handwritten by Dahlia Frankfort.

"This book is an old summary of the events that took place during the last war. There is information within these pages that you need to be aware of. Whatever you choose to do with this book, it is imperative that you keep its contents to yourself. Destroy it once you have learned enough. And remember this—I am not allowing anyone else to put a finger on you. Your life is mine to claim, and mine alone."

I couldn't help but smile at Dahlia's unique way of showing her interest. Without wasting any more time, I cracked open the vampire seal on the book and began flipping through its aged pages.

Inside, I found hand-drawn maps detailing settlements from centuries past. The dates indicated were from nearly three hundred years ago, back when Adams Town was first known as Adams Point. These maps were extensively detailed, showing hidden pathways and old strongholds, many of which had long been forgotten.

Two names stood out: Elder Cyrus Bane and Elder Kalia Scarlet. These were the vampire leaders who commanded the last war of the clans, only to be defeated by Robert Harrow and his hunter clan. But as I read through the pages, one detail puzzled me—Elder Elenore's name was absent from the vampire ranks during that conflict.

Before I could delve deeper, I was interrupted by the sound of footsteps outside my door, followed by two firm knocks.

"Young Master, we're ready," Derrick said.

I tucked the book beneath my pillow, wanting to revisit this information later. I opened the door to find Derrick and Antolio standing there, dressed in Harold's old clothes. The sight was comical and slightly pitiful.

"You two look absolutely terrible in those," I said, shaking my head with a grin. "Hold on." I turned back into my room and grabbed a few of my own clothes, ones that might be a bit more fitting for our upcoming visit to the Glass Club. "These should be a little more presentable. If this warlock is as particular as I suspect, we don't want to give him any reason to turn us away."

As we left the house, we climbed into one of the vehicles Lady Elenore had generously bestowed upon me. The drive to the west side of town was quiet, the only sounds were the low rumble of the engine and the quiet murmurs between Derrick and Antolio as they debated the best route to take.

The red moon loomed overhead, casting its ominous glow across the town. Its eerie light bathed the cobblestone streets in a crimson hue, painting the scene with an almost surreal stillness. The entire town seemed frozen in time, shadows stretched long and distorted as if the buildings and alleyways were holding their breath, waiting for something inevitable to unfold. As I gazed up at the moon, a familiar sensation began to ripple through me—my heart pounded, feeling my blood heating beneath my skin. The beast inside me stirred, restless and eager to take over.

Derrick caught my reflection in the rear-view mirror, noticing my struggle. "I would suggest you avoid looking directly at the moon, young master. The crimson moon has a way of pulling the beast closer to the surface, making it harder to maintain control."

I forced myself to look away, focusing on steadying my breathing. "I'll be fine."

Up front, Antolio held Vantos' business card in front of Derrick, who watched as the compass needle pointed to the northwest. We followed its direction, which led us to an abandoned warehouse on the edge of town. The area was dimly lit and cloaked in shadows, exuding a sense of danger and lawlessness.

"This is where the warlock hides?" Derrick asked, with evident skepticism. "The Glass Club he calls it? This place doesn't even have any glass left."

Without a word, Antolio stepped out of the vehicle, gesturing us to follow. We trailed behind him as he approached the entrance of the rundown warehouse. The walls around the entrance were covered in faded graffiti, the colors now muted and peeling under years of neglect. The door appeared sealed with rust, its surface corroded and pockmarked as it hadn't been touched in decades.

But it wasn't the door or the graffiti that drew my attention—it was the peculiar sigil carved into the wall beside it. As we approached, the symbol began to irradiate with a soft glow, the lines swirling into a pattern that seemed almost alive.

Antolio paused in front of the sigil, motioning to Derrick to watch closely. He pulled a small knife from his pocket, the blade gleaming faintly under the dim moonlight. Without hesitation, he made a shallow cut across his palm, allowing a thin line of blood to trickle forth. He smeared the fresh blood over the sigil, watching the red liquid soak into it. Almost immediately, the sigil reacted, pulsing with a brilliant glow. The blood seemed to be absorbed into the wall as if the stone itself were drinking it.

A small, bright sphere appeared, hovering in the air like a doorknob made of light. Derrick's eyes widened in disbelief, but before he could voice his questions, Antolio stepped forward with confidence, grasping the sphere and pulling it towards him as if opening an invisible door. To my amazement, a portal of sorts shimmered into existence, revealing the interior of a bustling club filled with music, flickering lights, and shadows moving in rhythm.

Antolio stepped through effortlessly, vanishing into the lively scene beyond. Derrick caught off guard, lunged forward in an attempt to grab the sphere before it vanished. His fingers slipped through it, unable to grasp the ethereal object as it faded from sight, leaving only the old, rusted doors.

Derrick turned to me, bewildered. "What the hell just happened?"

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"It's a blood seal," I said, keeping my eyes fixed on the spot where the sphere had been. "Only those who offer a drop of their blood can pass through. It's a protective barrier, designed to keep out any uninvited guests. Honestly, I've only seen things like this in movies, never in real life."

"So, what now? Are we supposed to follow him?"

"I'm afraid we will need to complete the ritual, the same way Antolio did if we want to get in."

With a resigned nod, Derrick mimicked Antolio's earlier actions. He pulled a small knife from his boot and made a quick, shallow cut across his palm. Blood welled up almost immediately, and without hesitation, he pressed his hand against the sigil etched into the wall.

The reaction was instant. The sigil absorbed the blood rapidly, glowing brighter with an otherworldly sheen as if it were drinking Derrick's offering. A familiar light sphere materialized in the air, shimmering like a ghostly doorknob. Derrick grasped it confidently, turning it and opening the invisible door. He leaned forward, peering through the newly revealed passage.

A low hum of energy, mixed with the distant thrum of bass-heavy music, seeped through the open doorway. Faint flickers of colored lights danced on the other side, casting shifting patterns that hinted at a lively, hidden world beyond.

"Looks like a lot of fun," Derrick said. "I'll see you inside."

Now it was my turn. Unfortunately, I realized I hadn't brought a pocketknife, and without it, I'd need to draw on the power within me to make this work. But the thought of partially turning into a werewolf while the crimson moon loomed above me was concerning. Tonight, the beast within me felt restless, itching to break free under the moonlight's influence. Manipulating my limbs without fully transforming was something I had never done, and tonight of all nights, control seemed more fragile than ever.

I took a deep breath, focusing all my energy on my hand. I envisioned my fingers elongating, morphing into sharp, claw-like nails. Slowly, a tingling warmth spread through my palm, and the nail of my index finger extended into a razor-sharp claw. For a moment, I marveled at the partial transformation—at the control I was beginning to gain over the beast within me.

As the blade-like nail sliced through my palm, I immediately realized my mistake. The cut was too deep, and the blood flowed far more than I had anticipated, streaming down my hand in thick rivulets. I pressed my palm against the sigil, and the symbol seemed to come alive, pulsing with a ravenous hunger as it drank in my blood.

But then, something went wrong.

The moment the sigil absorbed my offering, a searing pain exploded in my shoulder—the same spot where Dahlia's silver dagger had left its mark not so long ago. It was as if the old wound had been torn open, releasing a wave of agony that spread through my entire body like wildfire.

What's happening? I thought as panic began to settle in my mind. The burning in my shoulder was relentless as if something deep within me was being ripped apart. The crimson moon's influence surged, the beast inside me clawing to break free, driven by the pain and chaos.

Suddenly the pain immediately subsided, and a copy of the sigil on the wall was seared in my shoulder, ruining the sleeve of my white shirt.

"Well, it can't get worse than this."

In front of me, the luminous sphere materialized once more, hovering like a ghostly doorknob. Without hesitation, I reached out and grasped it, feeling its cool, almost tangible surface against my fingers. As I stepped through, a blinding flash engulfed me, forcing my eyes shut against the sudden burst of light.

When the brightness faded, I slowly opened my eyes, realizing everything had changed. The frigid, abandoned warehouse exterior was gone, replaced by an opulent club interior that pulsed with life and energy. I found myself standing just behind Derrick and Antolio, who were already surveying the scene ahead.

The space around us was surreal, everything was crafted from delicate, translucent glass. The walls gleamed with intricate patterns, the tables seemed to float in midair, and even the clothing of the receptionists appeared to be made from some kind of colorful glass that reflected the dim, seductive lighting. It was as if we had stepped into a world made entirely of crystal.

I reached out and tapped Derrick on the shoulder, intending to have him pass a message to Antolio. But as my fingers made contact, I paused, noticing something that caught my attention. Derrick's sleeve was scorched, the fabric burned away to reveal a fresh, glowing sigil branded into his skin—identical to the one seared into my shoulder.

"That was not fun," I said, lifting the charred remains of my sleeve to show Derrick the mark on my shoulder. His eyes widened slightly as he realized what I was pointing at.

"Tell Antolio, that next time, he needs to disclose the painful details of this ritual. A little heads-up would have been appreciated."

Derrick smirked, shaking his head as he leaned over to relay my words to Antolio. He responded with a series of quick, fluid hand signs, which Derrick translated for me with a chuckle. "Antolio says... Don't be a pussy, that's the price of entry. And besides, the pain we go through when turning is worse than a little burn in your skin."

"That's true, but tell him, he owes me a three-hundred-dollar shirt."

Suddenly, our attention was drawn to the sudden presence of two stunning women who seemed to materialize from the shimmering glass walls. Their attire was made of a translucent, glass-like material that clung to their bodies, reflecting the pulsating lights of the club. They were identical in every way but for their hair—one had vibrant pink locks, while the other sported, teal-colored waves that cascaded down her back.

Without hesitation, they rushed forward, "Antolio!" they yelled, wrapping their arms around him in a flurry of affectionate embraces. Each planted a kiss on his cheeks, leaving a faint shimmer on his skin. They playfully tousled his hair, their eyes sparkling with mischief.

"And I thought I have seen it all," Derrick said, his gaze fixed on the striking women before us.

"What brings the Silent Wolf to visit us tonight?" One of the girls asked.

Antolio turned towards Derrick, his hands moving rapidly in a flurry of signs. Derrick nodded, interpreting the message. "We're here to see Vantos. It's important. The alpha of the Black Lotus clan is requesting an audience with him."

With a nod, Derrick stepped aside, giving the two women room to approach me. They studied me intently, their eyes gleaming with an intensity that felt almost invasive, as they were peering into the very fabric of my being.

"It's undeniable," the pink-haired woman said with an expression of awe as if she hadn't seen a man like me before. Her teal-haired counterpart mirrored her expression, staring at each other. "He is of primal blood," they said in unison, with a strange, eerie harmony in their voices.

Then, in a mesmerizing motion, their bodies began to meld, the glass-like shimmer of their attire shifting and merging until the two became one. The transformation left a single figure standing before me, a woman with a commanding presence, her hair a blend of pink and teal that shifted like liquid glass. Her eyes held a depth of intelligence and power that hadn't been there before.

"The master will happily address your visit personally, my lord. My name is Lutia, I'm Vantos greater familiar."

"It's an honor to meet you, Lutia. Please, take us to Vantos. Some matters require his attention."

"I will take you to a private room. The master will be with you shortly."

We followed Lutia inside the glass club, as we took in the opulent surroundings. The interior was nothing short of mesmerizing, a lavish display of wealth and magic that seemed to bend reality itself. The entire space was bathed in an ethereal glow, neon lights flickering across glass surfaces, casting vibrant hues that danced like living flames. Lush palm trees framed the expansive room, infusing the space with an unexpected tropical vibe.

But what stole my breath was the dance floor. It appeared as if the patrons were dancing over water, defying logic and gravity. As we walked, I couldn't help but notice the scene beneath us— an enormous transparent surface that revealed an aquatic world below. The scene was like a living aquarium: mermaids swam gracefully among schools of shimmering fish, while grey sharks glided silently in the depths, their predatory eyes following our every move.

"Look at that!" Derrick shouted as he pointed at the shark passing directly beneath us.

Antolio quickly caught Derrick's attention with a series of rapid hand signs.

"Don't get distracted. How the hell do you manage to do that in a place like this?"

Lutia glanced over her shoulder, catching Derrick still mesmerized by the underwater spectacle beneath our feet. "This club is a reflection of Vantos' domain. Those who step inside often find themselves... enchanted by the details. But I would advise you gentlemen to stay focused on why you're here. This place is designed to keep you enthralled, to lure you into forgetting yourself. Everything here is crafted to entice you to stay—until you've spent every last cent. Time doesn't flow the same here. You can drink to excess, and indulge to your heart's content, but you'll never age, never die from intoxication. It's a paradise... but only until your resources are drained."