Talking About the Weather (RP)

Emma ran a perfectly manicured finger across the rows of books, finally coming to a rest on a rare, finely bound edition of the ‘The House of Fame’. Out of sheer curiosity, she pulled the book out and flipped through the crisp pages. It confirmed what she suspected all along; the book has never been opened, just like any of the others in the Vampire’s library. Elliot didn’t read. The library which spanned an entire room was nothing but a status symbol, a thin veneer of sophistication. He wanted her to include his character in one of her novels, but no doubt, her own book would one day end up on one of these shelves, left to collect dust, never opened nor read.

Vanity.

Just like his library, she, too, was there to stroke the Vampire’s ego.

The book went back to its cleft, and Emma turned to face the Vampire so she can give him her full attention.
"Come on, darling" a playful, teasing smile crossed her face. She closed the distance between the two, stopping within less than an arm’s reach from him "You know I have to get to know you better first. We don’t want your friends to mistake our protagonist for any other dashingly handsome, powerful vampire. I need just enough details so they can recognize you in those pages"

She decided against brushing her hand over the lapel of his jacket. A little bit of banter was fine, but if she provoked him too much, she would find herself dizzy and gasping for air on the living room’s couch. Which is why she dressed casually for their meeting today; a pair of jeans, a buttoned-up blue blouse and a tailored white blazer. Nothing too enticing about her appearance, except the blood coursing through her veins.

Emma didn’t mind having an audience to their meeting, but she did wonder why he felt the need to keep his lackeys in the room. It’s not like they were contributing anything to the conversation, or that they were there to protect his person from a mere mortal. If she had to wager a guess, they were there because they made Elliot feel important. They were his entourage, a group of courtiers circling their medieval king. And it was to make Emma feel small and insignificant in comparison. He could dismiss her at any time and go back to his ‘business’ without losing a second out of his day.

She wasn’t disturbed by their presence, at any rate.

"Unfortunately, I still have a day job. Got to make rent"

It wasn’t a mere excuse, but the real reason she couldn’t dedicate herself fully to her book. One of the reasons, at any rate. She wasn’t Elliot’s biographer. She was trying to tell a story, and she hasn’t found one yet. The Vampire lord wasn’t even such a good character, except maybe as a foil to the real protagonist. She didn’t expect a cold-hearted Vampire to have any meaningful or engaging character arc. Maybe if she did dig a little bit deeper, she could find the real story. Conflict. Drama. Something to sink her teeth into.

"Why don’t you tell me about your greatest triumphs? Something to impress our readers with?"

She took out her notepad from her purse, and her biro, giving Elliot a short soft nod of her head for him to go ahead. He WAS a vain vampire, wasn’t he? It shouldn’t be too difficult to get him talking about himself.

"That is very impressive" she feigned admiration at his accomplishment. There are mortal men that managed to accumulate greater wealth, in a shorter time period, without the benefits of vampiric powers. She wasn't awed, but that didn't meant she wasn't respectful. He was clearly exceedingly dangerous - not because of his vast wealth and influence, but because of his swollen ego. The way he talked about those other vampires, all the focus on his achievements and the laughing chorus of his toadies, - it all suggested that he was the sort of man (or vampire) that wouldn't tolerate a slight to his person. An insult, even a suspected one, could be met with extreme violence. His ego was as fragile as it was big. A dangerous combination, and Emma reminded herself once again that she had to tread very very carefully around such men.

She lifted her eyes from her notebook and smiled warmly at him, before asking her follow-up questions. The topic that most intrigued her were those 'ancient ones' he mentioned, the ones centuries old. Those were possibly even more dangerous than Elliot, because they had no reason or desire to associate with humans. Still, they intrigued her greatly. If she could somehow arrange a meeting with one of them, at a safe location...

It was something she would have to ponder some other night. She had to keep her focus on the Vampire standing in front of her. Talk about him, and him alone. She figured he wouldn't be happy if she steered the conversation to any other topic other than himself.
"- and there are older vampires living above ground too, who never managed to accumulate such power. Am I right?" she paid him a compliment, before segueing to her real question: "How does it work? Do they come to you asking for favors? Do they have to ask for your permission to stay in London? In England?" she knew next to nothing about Vampire society, and how they organize themselves. Any tidbit of information could prove to be very interesting.

"What the...". Not sure what the problem is, Jacob starts to slow down, but then he sees the thug standing near Benji's place and resumes driving at normal speed. Careful not to speed up too much to attract his attention, Jacob turns the corner to park.

"Who's that? You weren't expecting company, were you?" he asks Benji.

So Elliot's power extended no further than the city of London, if she could take his word for it. Considering his arrogance, she could safely assume he would exaggerate about the extent of his reach, rather than play it down.

She had the answer to her question. A part of it, at any rate.

His casual mention of her remote hometown brought a smile to her lips, not because she found it amusing, but as a way to subtly push back and assert herself in the face of his challenge. The conversation was growing a little bit stale as it was; she might as well stir up the hornet's nest a little. If she wanted to play it safe, she would have stayed home with David in front of the TV.

"OK" she flipped her small notebook shut and placed it back in her purse. Now her attention was fully on him, locking her blue eyes with his "But can you tell me something about myself that you couldn't find on my bio page at the Independent, or by having your goons shadow me during the day? A real secret??"
She was testing him. Did he have any profound knowledge about her, or was he nothing but a stage magician trying to impress her with cheap tricks? Would he play along, or would he retreat back into his fortress while claiming this game was 'beneath him'? Would he be amused? Angry? Whatever his reaction would be, she would discern something about his nature. Hopefully, she wouldn't pay for that knowledge with blood.

The tension in the room was palpable, an eerie kind of silence - just like the one before the jump scare in a horror movie. Exactly like it, as a matter of fact. The Vampire went still, and suddenly, he no longer looked like the breathing, living human being he pretended to be, but like a cadaver. Cold and lifeless, bereft of any emotion or compassion. How could she reason with such a creature? What could she offer it in return for her life?

Should she grovel at his feet? Elliot didn't want for sycophants. The group of toadies that surrounded him were sucked dry of their personality, empty husks that followed him around and echoed his every word. Would he kill her if she kowtowed to him, because then she would add nothing he didn't already have to his life? Or maybe the evidence was right in front of her eyes - that being his lackey was the only way to stay alive?

It didn't take her very long to make her decision. Dead and brain-dead were one and the same, so she might as well take a gamble and show a little moxie, than bend over backwards and sacrifice her identity at the altar of his ego voluntarily.

"Come on; I'm here because you wanted to talk with an actual person, remember?" she tossed her wavey hair around her shoulder, lowering her head ever so slightly before hinting with her eyes at their audience "Maybe we should conclude this conversation in private?" she wasn't any safer with his servants around. Less safe, as a matter of fact, because his ego wouldn't allow him to lose face in front of them, even if they were not much more than sock-puppets at this point. That he might construe her words as a salacious invitation was something for future Emma to worry about. She had to diffuse this ticking timebomb first, then figure out how to climb out of the hole she dug for herself.

Emma was relieved to see his minions dismissed. If he was so certain he wanted to kill her, he wouldn't have bothered waiting for them to leave the room, only to call them back immediately after to clean up the mess. But she was not out of the woods quite yet. The Vampire was still standing there without moving, looking at her expectedly. It reminded her of that story she read in her youth. About the clever daughter of a vizier who survived for a thousand and one nights by telling her murderous husband a story each evening, leaving out the ending incomplete so he would have no choice but to keep her alive for another day, if he wanted to know how the tale ends.

She didn’t think she could just sit next to him and read him a bedtime story. But maybe she could find some other way to hold his interest, remind him there is still some value to keeping her alive

"Do you know why I am here?" she turned her head from him to look at the rows of books on his library, of all things, her soft voice growing fainter as she went on telling him something personal about herself. Not a secret, but intimate nonetheless "It’s because I’ve seen how life turns out for most people. That dreary routine. Working for a salary. Doing the same thing over and over and over again, day in and day out. Drag yourself out of bed and slip into the monotony of another workday. The tasks become familiar – almost too familiar. You go to work. Pay your bills. The days blur together into a haze of gray, filled with repetitive chores and fleeing distractions" she paused for a moment, lost in her reverie, before turning to look at him once more.

"And then you find yourself pushing a shopping cart down the aisle of the supermarket when you’re forty, wondering what happened to the little girl who sat under the cover of the bedsheets and flipped through the pages of her books, dreaming of adventure. Of doing something strange, and unknown, " she smiled wistfully at the Vampire "maybe something a little bit risky"

She stopped short of asking him if he knew what she meant, leaving it for him to infer, if he was smart enough, or else leave the subtle metaphor for his own existence hanging at the back of his head; that winning his throne was so much more exciting than sitting on it. And that the woman standing in front of him was an intriguing oddity that broke the mold of his predictable routine, and that it was worth keeping her alive for a little while longer – at least until her novelty wore off.

"I see. Yes, probably the fewer people that know about Lizabeth and her findings, the better," Jacob agrees. He is aware of Elliot Parry; after all, he is one of the most prominent vampire figures in London. However, the nature of Benji's relationship with him is unclear to Jacob. He has always perceived Benji as a "free soul," seemingly indifferent to the city's supernatural politics.

"Do you want me to accompany you to meet Mr. Parry?" he offers.

This was no longer merely about leaving his penthouse alive. She didn't step into the Vampire's lair just to leave empty handed. She wanted more. His wealth, his influence, his experience about the supernatural world, and likely even the surge of adrenaline she experienced at the presence of a predator, are the things that drew her to him. She just needed to convince him to share a little.

She was playing a very dangerous game, with potential terrible consequences for more than just herself. But right now, she didn't care. She only saw what she stood to gain from having the vampire lord thirst for more than just her blood. All she needed to do was give the him a little nudge in the right direction. His silence spoke volumes. He WAS listening, which meant she couldn't be far off the mark "Don't tell me you've never felt like that" her voice was smooth and velvety, drawing him in just as much as her tantalizing words "that you didn't wake up some nights and wanted to throw caution to the wind. Do something different, and dammed be the consequences?"

The vampire wasn’t so subtle about not taking no for an answer. He was so used to forcing people to do his bidding, that he didn’t stop to consider that she wouldn’t need any encouragement to attend his party. Something about ‘hammer’, and ‘nails’ came to mind.

The truth of the matter was that she wouldn’t miss a social gathering with the most powerful and influential ‘people’ in the city for the world. He was giving her precisely what she has hoped for; an introduction to the hidden, mysterious world she wanted to be a part of. The only snag was her previous commitment for tomorrow evening. David’s parents were coming over for dinner, and her absence would be a cause for much disappointment. She felt a little bit bad about it, but quickly brushed those pesky concerns aside. This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. She’ll just have to make it up to David some other time.

"I’m in" she didn’t bother to pretend being reluctant about it "But you’re paying for my dress!" she added a cheeky smile for effect, before getting the details from him: "Where and when, exactly?"

Jacob gives Teddy a suspicious glance, sensing that his presence is unwelcome. To ease the situation for Benji, he chooses to step back.

"Actually, I just recalled I need to locate a book for a client. I'll catch up with you later, alright, Benji?"

Emma sees a scruffy young man in old-fashioned clothing. He is wearing a haphazardly knotted cravat, a faded blue waistcoat, and a tattered tailcoat that is more patches than coat at this point. His clothing is covered in smudges of soot and he’s missing a chunk of his hair from the side of his head, where a freshly-healed head wound spans from his temple to the top of his ear.

"Elliot! Hi!" He bounds into the room and offers the other vampire a deep, sweeping bow. He pauses at the lowest point of the bow to smile bemusedly at Emma, upside-down. "You have a… friend?" he asks Elliot, trying to determine if this is someone he should introduce himself to or just Elliot’s dinner.

OK. Benji was definitely a vampire. He was wearing clothes that went out of style at least a century ago. And judging by the looks of his tattered attire, he's probably been wearing them for at least that long. It subverted her expectations; the vampires she read about were suave and sophisticated, not shabby-looking drifters. Or they tried to blend in, rather than sticking out like a sore thumb. But this vampire was different. Very different.

Emma herself always dressed for the occasion, being very mindful about the image she wanted to project. For her meeting with the Vampire lord, she went with a business-casual look; a pair of jeans, a buttoned up light blue blouse and a tailored off-white blazer. She was clearly a beautiful woman, but today her aim was to look polished and competent. Serious, yet not too formal.

But what image did Benji wish to project? Did he want people to underestimate him? Was he trying to convey that he didn't care about how other people perceived him? Was it a hint at his age? Did he want to drive people away? Was he a rebel? A fool?

No. She couldn't figure him out, which only made him that much more intriguing.
Maybe, that was the entire point.

"I'm Emma Harper" she introduced herself, smiling playfully at the newcomer who drew her attention from his master "And I was just leaving" she tilted her head lightly at Elliot to offer him her parting words "I'll see you tomorrow night; I'm looking forward to it"

Emma had no intention of sticking around until the vampires concluded their business. She hated waiting, and 'shouldn't be long' could entail a very different time scale for two immortal beings than a mortal woman. Once she was shown out of the room, she reached out for her purse for a sticky note pad and a pen, scribbling her name in perfect cursive and adding her phone number underneath, before pasting the yellow slip of paper on the closed door.

She had better things to do with her time. It was still not too late in the afternoon. If she hurried, she should arrive home before David made it back from work, and have dinner ready for him. And then she could break the news about bailing on him and his parents, face to face.

"Hi!" Emma was always happy to get a call from Bev. Both she and her were feeling their way in the darkness, drawn to dark secrets and perilous danger like moths to flame. These nights, she felt like Bev was one of the few people she could relate to. Someone she could talk freely about what she was going through. From the sound of Bev's voice, that sentiment was mutual.

"You did??!" she wasn't so much surprised to hear that Bev allowed a vampire to feed on her, than excited. If she hadn't told her about her own experience with Eliot, Bev might have never gathered the courage to try it herself. It was more than a little bit reprehensible on her part to be happy that they had this experience to share and talk about, and for encouraging this kind of risky behavior. But damn it, she needed someone to accompany her on this journey "Who was it?" She had so many questions, but before she could ask the next one, Bev hit her with an even greater revelation. "Really??? Demons?"

Her mind could barely come to grips with the profound metaphysical and theological implication of the exitance of demons. Did it mean that Hell existed? The Devil? God? Heaven? Maybe she should become a nun and retire to a convent then, rather than running around the city trying to to ingratiate herself with a bunch of power hungry, blood sucking, parasites. This was big. Real big. Something which could change the entire trajectory of her life. She HAD to learn more. Maybe meet with this demon.

She checked her watch as she considered what to do. She needed to talk with David tonight and let him know she wouldn't be joining dinner tomorrow. It wasn't fair to wait until the very last second to tell him. It had to be in person, and she couldn't slip out of the house right after disappointing him.

But she also really wanted to meet with Bev and get the full story from her.

Emma was usually very decisive, but right now, she felt torn and conflicted about what to do. It didn't help that she detected nervousness in Bev's voice. There was more she wasn't telling her, and she couldn't help feel a little bit concerned about her well being.

"Listen" she finally sighed after making her decision, not too happy about it, but knowing she wouldn't be happy no matter which option she chooses "I'm on my way home right now. Can you meet me at Nowhere? It's that little coffee shop just across the street from my apartment"

Emma picked the Nowhere for two reasons; one, it was right next to her apartment, so she could make it back home within less than a minute once their meeting was concluded. And two - the small coffee shop closed pretty early in the evening. They couldn't sit there for too long, and Emma would have the perfect excuse to part ways with Bev after getting all the interesting info. She was still hoping to catch dinner with David, even texting him to 'wait up' for her.

But seeing Bev's distraught face made her regret not picking another venue. She gave the young woman a warm hug and pointed her to the table she was saving for them and joined her a short minute later, after placing their orders at the counter, making sure to pick something with extra cream and sugar for her friend.

"Bev. What happened? Are you alright?" Emma empathically clasped the woman's palm, squeezing her hand gently for reassurance. Something was clearly wrong, and it was better to confront the problem head on, rather than pretend like she was too dense to notice her friend needed her help.

Poor Bev. She didn't deserve this. If her girlfriend wanted to dump her, she should have done it face-to-face. It shouldn't have taken more courage than fighting actual demons, right? She squeezed softly on Bev's palm again, covering their clasped hands with her second.
"Bev" she sighed softly "I'm so sorry"

That note about 'having to skip town' might had something to do with her girlfriend's line of work? Her life must be fraught in constant danger. Maybe she was in such a hurry to leave to protect Bev's life? It was pure conjecture, but this is not why she decided not to bring it up. Bev's girlfriend still decided to leave, without an explanation, and not for the first time. She didn't want Bev holding on to a flicker of hope, waiting for her girlfriend to come back to 'screw her', only to leave again in the morning. If she'll be coming back at all.

The best thing she could do was move on, and find someone who truly appreciated her. Practical advice and some perspective would have to wait till later, however. Bev needed her for something else right now. She needed her to listen. To stay with her while she vented her emotions. Merely being there was the best way to show her that she cared about her. "It's okay" she whispered softly when tears welled up from Bev's eyes "I'm here for you"

"It's NOT your fault" she didn't just say it to make Bev feel better about herself. It really did upset her to hear her friend disparaging herself like this "It is not inappropriate to worry about someone you care about. It is not 'being pushy' to want to protect them from physical violence, and intimacy is part of any healthy relationship. You did NOTHING wrong"

Emma paused when she concluded her tirade, her face suddenly growing pale. Would someone have this conversation, using these exact words, to comfort David one day? I shouldn't be here...

"Bev....I'm sorry. I got to go. David is waiting for me" she got up to her feet and nodded at the woman "You're taking a day off tomorrow" her tone of voice didn't make it sound like a suggestion "Join me and Benji. We're going shopping, and I need a woman's eye when I try on some dresses. Maybe we will get something for you too. What do you say?"

"Good!" Emma considered it a done deal "Tomorrow at Pinko. Ten o'clock"
Bev didn't say anything when she mentioned Benji, so he must not be the Vampire she allowed to feed on her? The odds of two vampires suffering head injuries within the span of a few days sounded pretty slim to Emma, but who was she to tell? Maybe having your head bashed in was not that uncommon of an occurrence in vampiric society. Definitely something she should inquire with Benji, tomorrow.
"Hang in there" she leaned to kiss Bev on her cheek, tapping her shoulder gently, before hurrying out of the coffee shop.

It was less than a minute walk to her apartment. A little over a minute, including the short pause to text Benji back before walking through the front door:

Emma found her husband by the kitchen worktop, busy chopping vegetables for their salad. He hadn't noticed her coming in - the constant drumming of raindrops and the patter against the windows made it nearly impossible to hear the door creaking slightly as she pushed it open. Leaving her coat on the hanger, she fought the urge to sneak up behind him and warp her arms around his waist. It wasn't smart to surprise someone holding a sharp knife.

"Hi! I'm home!!" she ran her fingers through her damp hair to sort it out before striding into their living space and falling into her husband's arms, pecking him gently on his lips "How was your day?"

"Sounds like it. It's been raining for so long I almost forgot how sunshine looks like" it was a long stretch of bad weather. Not THAT unusual, considering this was England. Still, she couldn't help but feel something was off. Maybe because it kept on raining nonstop, with the cloudy skies the color of black tar suffocating the city with bleak darkness.

She stalled for a bit, looking out the big glass windows at the drops of rain before turning to look back at her husband. This was difficult. David was so kind, and they haven't seen his parents in a long while. She knew they drove a long way and were looking forward to see their daughter in law. She would disappointing them as well. For a moment, she considered telling Elliot she couldn't make it after all. He would probably be angry. Maybe angry enough to hurt her. But that wasn't the thing that terrified her.

"Remember Mr. Parry?" she started hesitatingly "The businessman I've been interviewing for my next book? I met with him today, and he extended an invite to attend the Legacy Ball tomorrow evening. Everyone who's everyone is going to be there" she paused and looked pleadingly into his eyes. He could already infer her next words, but she didn't want to let them left unspoken: "I really need to go. It's important, also for my career as a journalist" calling herself a journalist was a stretch. Her writing in the Independent amounted to a relationship advice column, a few articles about fashion, and reviews of local nightclubs. Still, if she was in the company of important and powerful people she was bound to hear something interesting. Maybe something that one day will make it to the front page.

"I know!" Emma was every bit as exasperated as David. Not at her husband, but from the tension of being forced to choose between one of the options. Disappointing her husband wasn't easy for her either "But it's a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. There won't be another invite if I turn this one down!" She tried to justify herself - to both of them.

"Tell you what" she sighed softly, laying her hand over his chest "They aren't going back to Birmingham until the day after tomorrow, right? I could spend the day with them. Go to the British Museum? Take them out to lunch before they leave?" she was more than happy to spend time with her in-laws, even if it meant putting her investigations on hold for a bit. Just not tomorrow evening. She HAD to get her foot in the door first.

Jacob smiles following the poor joke about jurisdiction, simply to reassure Lizabeth and encourage her to proceed with her tale. As she reaches the part about the object she discovered, his interest is piqued.

"Can you describe this copper box? Did it have any inscriptions or drawings on it?" he inquires.

Hearing Lizabeth’s story, Benji wonders if the police might not have the object, after all. Perhaps whoever ‘zapped’ Lizabeth (assuming it was even a person) stole the object before the police ever got there? If that’s the case, Benji wonders if there might be some way to track them down… "Was there anyone nearby when you found the box? Did you see anyone else down on the riverbank with you?"

"Don't worry; I'll show them a great time" She proceeded as if the matter was settled. An art show did sound like the better option, come to think of it. Much more exciting then walking around in a stuffy museum. She'll check the listings later, search for some fringe show David's parents would never consider going to on there own "And we'll go grab some lunch together too"

Her guilty conscious assuaged, Emma sprang upwards on the tips of her toes and planted another kiss on her husband's lips. The problem was behind her, and now she was looking forward to spending the rest of the night together with her husband "I'm going to grab a quick shower, ok? And then we can have dinner, and I'll make you forget all about the floodings and the boring scutwork"

"May I?" Jacob inquires, reaching out to examine the invitation more closely. "It seems someone has overlooked my invitation; I'll need to rectify that," he remarks, a smile playing on his lips.

Emma has been to Pinko before, but without the intention of actually buying anything. Those Nappa leather trousers she picked up from the shelf before putting it right back with a shocked face had a very reasonable price of 599 pounds. The cashmere wool scarf went for 200, and she didn’t bother checking the price tags on any of the designer purses. She could never normally afford to shop there – not even for some of the ‘on sale’ items.

The sales assistant knew that. The tall, bony middle aged woman has seen Emma 'snooping' around the store before, and knew she shouldn’t bother with her. She hadn’t approached her to ask if she needed any help, but just stood there, eyeing the young blonde in the gray raincoat and beanie hat like a hawk, as if she was half-expected Emma to pocket one of the items and run out of the store if her attention was elsewhere.

All of it didn’t make Emma feel very welcome. If she wasn’t so concerned about Bev, she wouldn’t have arrived so early. But she didn’t want the distraught, heartbroken woman to wait on her, rather than the other way around. And she could only imagine how the sales assistant would react once Benji showed up, in his tattered coat. She was almost looking forward to it! A thin smile crossing her lips at the thought, she moved over to the dress rack, stopping by to run her fingers through the soft fabric before pulling the risqué club dress out to look at the cut of the hem.

"Good morning!" her lips curled into a crooked smile at the sight of the unconventional vampire. She has been looking forward to meeting him. There was so much she wanted to know about his kind (she made a whole list before going to bed), and she hoped he would prove to be a more pleasant conversationalist than his master. Or, at the very least, not make her feel like he was about to sink his fangs into her neck at any moment.

"Thanks for coming" the blonde approached the vampire to greet him "I can really use your help today. I have no idea what the dress code is like in these types of events"

"The 80s?" Emma quirked a brow "So, shoulder pads and lots of hairspray?"
Even if she wanted to impress Elliot, these kinds of outfits went out of style decades ago - and for good reason.

"Are you coming too? What will you be wearing?" she prodded gently, trying to get Benji's measure. Eliot claimed all the 'movers and shakers' of the city would be there. If Benji was invited, it must mean he was someone of importance, no?

There was something a bit scary about Benji. He reminded her of the stories Eliot told about the old 'moss-backs'; the ancient vampires dwelling deep in the sewers that no longer had any interest in human affairs, and saw people as nothing but their next meal. They were not alike, of course, but she couldn't help but make the comparison; like the 'Morlocks' (she decided it was a more fitting name for blood-thirsty monsters living underground), Benji gave no thought to how other people perceived him. He didn't see humans as his peers, and maybe not even other vampires. How do you call a man who doesn't care enough to try to fit in? Someone who doesn't value other people's opinion of him?

She tried to hide her discomfort with a smile, as she moved back toward the dress rack "We can get you something too, if you want"

The little black dress she had her eyes on might not be appropriate after all, especially not if she wanted to make an impression. With Pinko not stocking gowns, she wasn't left with much options. Pursing her lips with frustration, she picked the plunging neckline black dress of the hanger anyways, and an ever more scandalous lightweight ribbed knit mini dress, and held both in front of her body to show her companion "What do you think?"

"Not with that attitude, they won't" Emma couldn't help but giggle, and just like that, she no longer felt anxious in the vampire's company "I should probably put them back then, and look for something more appropriate"

Back to the dress rack it was. There were one or two other interesting options, but she decided she better wait until Bev arrived to get her opinion. In the meantime, she was quite happy to get to get better acquainted with Benji: "How long have you been playing the violin?" she talked without quite looking at him, sifting through the dresses on the hanger "Do you play any other instrument?"

"I would love to hear you play sometimes" she said softly, trying her best not to dwell on how sad it was that he was constantly tormented by pangs of hunger, or that he was starting to forget what it was like to have been alive. Maybe being a vampire wasn’t such a bargain after all.

"I always wanted to learn how to play the piano" she mused "but my mother could never afford to pay for lessons" she turned to look at him, her smile masking the pain from distant memories " – or a piano. But I write. I published my first novel a few months ago. ‘Under a Blood Red Moon’?"

Benji didn’t strike her as someone who cared much for erotic horror stories, so she didn’t expect him to have heard of the title. But who knows? The vampire was full of surprises. "It’s about Vampires. From before I knew they existed. Now that I do, I’m trying to portray them more accurately for my next novel" it was so very hard not to start peppering him with every question she had about his kind; she was quickly getting to the point where she would prioritize sating her curiosity more than her manners.

"Mm-hm" she hummed in the affirmative "I was hoping to get some answers from him, but mostly, he's only interested in talking about himself" with a slight tug of her shoulders, she went back to the dress stand "He makes it sound like every Vampire in London must kowtow to him. Is that really the way it is?"

"How often does a 'coup' like this occur?" Emma struggled to understand why anyone in their right mind would want to be a 'Vampire Lord' to begin with. It was like painting a bullseye on your back. Make yourself a lot of enemies, all out for your blood. If SHE were a Vampire, she would find something much better to do with her unlife. Something much more...fun.

"I think I got it!" The short dress Emma pulled from the rack was the color of crimson. A very deliberate choice on her part "I HAVE to try this one out. Give me a couple of minutes, OK? Oh; and if you see Bev, tell her I'm in the fitting room"

On cue, Emma walked out of the fitting room wearing her risqué blood-red dress. She loved the way it looked on her when she checked her reflection in the mirror, but she was worried that maybe it WAS a bit too much for the ball. She really had no idea. Good thing that Benji was there to keep her honest. And Bev. "Bev! Good morning!" the blonde broke into a smile upon seeing her friend "You got here just in time. How do you like this dress?"

She stopped to eye Benji, the smile turning into a crooked grin "I mean; how do you like that dress on me"

"I couldn’t afford not even those wool hats they have on sale without taking a second mortgage" it was a hyperbole, but it conveyed the right message. Money was a bit tight these days, and she couldn’t afford to spend it on flashy clothes with pretentious price tags. Luckily, she wasn’t the one who would be footing the bill: "Mr. Parry invited me to the ball tonight, so he’s the one paying for the dress. And the shoes"

She just had to get those matching red heels to go with the dress. She couldn’t show up in her black ones and commit a fashion faux pas "Anyways; I’m glad you liked it as much as I did. Do you want to see me try out the black one too?"

Emma couldn’t imagine anything could surpass the red dress either, but that didn't mean she wouldn't jump on the opportunity to try out a few more expensive outfits. The thrill of shopping was all about exploration, and it wasn't like they were in a hurry. She spent the next hour slipping in and out of one dress after another; the classic little black dress, a sleek white bodycon, and even trying a different look altogether; that of an edgy leather jacket and tight leather pants. Eventually, the sales assistant’s lingering stares grew increasingly uncomfortable.

Back in her street clothes, she gathered the red dress (and the matching heels) and brought them to the counter just before she was asked if she was 'going to buy something'.

"That would be all" she said cheerfully, and then hinted at Benji, who she assumed was there with Eliot’s credit card

Emma smiled apologetically at the older woman at the cash register as Benji darted off. Though it only took him a few minutes to return, it felt like an eternity to her. When he finally appeared, clutching his shoebox, her flush of embarrassment quickly drained away, leaving her face pale.

It was one thing to scrounge off Eliot, who had more money than he knew what to do with, but Benji hardly seemed able to afford clothes for himself, let alone a ridiculously expensive dress for someone else. That shoebox was filled with coins and bills from decades—or even centuries—ago. She could only imagine how long it had taken him to save that up.

She knew what it was like being poor. She remembered what it was like to save every penny just so they could afford food. Going to bed hungry was a familiar part of her childhood.

There was no way she could let Benji foot the bill for that dress.

"Benji, it’s okay. I’ve changed my mind—I don’t want the dress" she said, pushing the bag back across the counter with a heavy heart.

"Will he though?" Emma wasn't sure it was going to be easy to get Eliot to pay him back. The Vampire lord didn't exactly go out of his way to make things easy for Benji. She was ready to leave the dress and the shoes in the bag and walk out of the store empty-handed, when it occurred to her that Benji might get into more trouble if she didn't look her best at the ball tonight.

"Fine" she sighed "But let me know if he doesn't"
The entire experience left a bitter taste in her mouth. She couldn't wait to walk out of the store and get on with her day.

"I guess" Benji barely knew her, so he couldn't really count her among his friends. She appreciated the gesture, however, and tried forcing a smile to her lips: "- thank you"

Once out of the store, Emma hurried up and opened her umbrella. There was so much rainwater these days that the storm drains were overwhelmed. She carefully sidestepped a large poodle, realizing she might have been better off buying herself a nice pair of boots, than high heels

"Where is this party, anyways*? And what time should I show up?"

"Arundel Castle?!?" she blinked in surprise, but quickly composed herself. "Yes, sure. I’ll see you there, I guess"

She stood beside Bev as he turned to leave, her lips pressed together in thought, before she finally summoned the nerve to speak up and ask the questions nagging at her mind: "I hope this isn't too direct, but I have so many questions. Like; how do you feel about crucifixes? Do you count every grain of rice that spills? Do you cast a reflection? Are you hurt by silver?" She didn’t expect him to answer all at once, or even any of them. But he was the only other vampire she'd met, and the friendliest, so far. She couldn't let this opportunity slip out of her grasp: "I don’t suppose we could meet again, sometime?"

"Thank you" she was grateful for Benji answering her questions. She had many, many more swirling in her mind, but those would have to wait for some other time, when they weren't standing out in the rain.

"Elliot is sending a car for me, but save me a seat for the ride back" Ellliot was the the one who invited her to this exclusive party. He was the one who paid for her dress. She figured it was best not to show up in the company of any other vampire, less she offends the Vampire Lord's inflated ego.

"I'm looking forward to seeing you both there. "

Emma stepped back to admire her reflection in the mirror. Turning slightly, she tilted her head just so, adjusting her posture to emphasize her curves. She couldn’t help but admire her body – a moment of vanity she indulged in every so often. She knew the effect she would have this evening, and relished in how powerful, and daring, it made her feel.

Of course, she had no idea if vampires had the same ‘urges’ as mortal men (it was too soon to broach the subject of undead libido with Benji). But she was a ‘thirst trap’ for the vampires attending the party in more ways than one. She still had a pulse, and blood flowing through her veins. Her crimson-red dress was like a neon sign advertising a succulent meal. One way or another – she was going to get their attention.

It wasn’t particularly smart to put herself out there as bait. She didn’t know what she would do with a vampire either, if she did manage to get one to eat out of the palm of her hand (figuratively only, she hoped!). But it was a calculated risk. The conversation with Benji convinced her that Eliot was indeed a vampire of great importance. She was his guest at the party, and no one would dare to harm her while she was under his protection - which only made the prospect of teasing them that much more exciting!

Her eyes flicked over the details one last time; the suggestive red dress, the high heels that forced her calf muscles to tighten. A shade of red on her lips to pop against her pale skin, and the low-hanging silver necklace to add another touch of mischief to her attire. A final spritz of perfume, and she was walked out of the bedroom with a blend of sass and captivating allure, her heels clicking against the laminated floor of their apartment.

"Hi!" She stopped and smiled at her in-laws, and at her husband, without missing a beat. The trio were gathered around the dinner table, and by the looks of it, were not too keen on going back out into the heavy rain to make it on time to their dinner reservation "Sorry for not being here when you arrived. And for leaving so soon" she started with an apology – an earnest one "How was your trip? I heard they had to close down some of the railways due to the flooding"

"A gala at Arundel Castle" Emma knew her mother-in-law wasn’t going to like the answer to her question, but she would probably like the answer to ‘do you think you should cover up’ even less "It’s starting at eight, and it’s a long drive, so I better get going. My ride is waiting for me down at the street"

The rain was coming down in sheets outside. Lightning flickered in the distance, illuminating the dark sky in flashes of blue. Even though she was looking at the storm through the window, she discounted David's warnings, her mind too preoccupied with the party. It was easy to brush his concerns aside. She wasn't going to let a little rain stop her from meeting the 'shakers and movers' of the supernatural world.

"Sorry again for leaving in such a hurry. We’ll catch up tomorrow at noon; I got a whole day planned"

She usually parted from her husband with a kiss, but not wanting to smudge her lipstick she settled for placing her hand on his chest "I’ll be back late, so don’t wait up for me. And offer your parents some tea. You don’t need to wait for them to ask"

Emma settled into the plush leather seat in the back of the car after exchanging a terse ‘hello’ with the driver. She found the invitation card in short order, but waited for the car to roll away from her street and turn a corner before flipping it over to its other side to check whether anything else was written on it other than her name.

Emma gave up trying to make conversation with her driver five minutes in. His responses were laconic—when he could be made to reply at all. He seemed like a mindless drone, his sole function be transport her from point A to point B.

The long drive, stretched even longer due to the accident on the motorway, left her eager to engage with someone other than her phone. She waited inside the car for the driver to open the door for her, and shelter her with his umbrella, and was surprised to find out he didn’t have one. It didn’t rain in the castle ground. Not even a drizzle. Maybe there was a little lull in the storm – or maybe the weather wasn’t as bad as in London, but she still expected it to be windy, with some precipitation.

Odd.

"Thank you" she offered the driver-with-the-lifeless-eyes her gratitude when he offered his hand to help her out of the car. She took a moment to admire the castle grounds; the imposing walls and the towers bathed in soft, golden light. Dim uprights illuminated the pathways through the castle’s surrounding greenery as well. A nice stroll, without a constant barrage of rain, was a tempting idea, but it would have to wait for later. Eliot was probably already expecting her, and she didn’t want to keep him waiting.

Expecting someone familiar would show up to welcome her inside, she lingered at the entrance a couple of minutes longer to soak the scene, and to appraise the rest of the arriving guests.

"Oh no, my friend. You were kind enough to let me have your invitation, and I'll drive you to the entrance like a lord," says Jacob. "There's no way we're walking like soaked peasants in the rain. Don't worry, I'll find a place to leave my car".

Emma instinctively pressed her hand against her chest as a man stepped out of the shadows from BEHIND her. Why hadn’t he announced himself when she approached the castle!?? His cold, detached tone made her uneasy, and she quickly glanced around, to see if any of the other guests were nearby.

"The tour," she said softly, still catching her breath from the surprise "No, it’s fine. Just point me to the main hall where the party is at" The thought of wandering through the castle with this stranger made her skin crawl; she didn’t want to spend another moment in his company, let alone have him show her around.

Jacob waves goodbye, reassuring Benji that he'll be fine. He then begins to drive creatively, searching for a spot to park the car for a few hours. In fact, at night, a space beneath a tree should suffice. His small car is unlikely to draw attention amidst the expansive fields.

"No; it's fine" she replied both to his apology, and to his offer to accompany her to the party. She didn't want to dwell on strange men lurking in the shadows; she had a party to go to, and she was quite eager to meet the rest of the guests. The castle being a tourist destination, it had to have a cloakroom where she could leave her purse at. Whether it had anyone attending it or not, she would leave her belonging behind so she could make her grand entrance to the main hall unencumbered.

Jacob will keep the invitation in the inner pocket of his jacket, just in case someone asks. But other than that, he relies on his skills to appear unworthy of concern. He approaches the main entrance of the castle as if it was the most natural thing to do and he had all the right to be there.

All the coats and handbags in the small alcove suggested that there were other people in the castle. It was easy to think otherwise, since the only living soul she's met since she arrived was the spooky man hiding in the shadows.

She took a couple of minutes to study the items of clothings, only to get a hunch of how people might be dressed at the party. Having satisfied her curiosity, she pushed her purse through the narrow opening in the security door, before heading straight into the ballroom.

Jacob takes a glass of whatever drink the waiters are serving right now, and wanders around for some minutes, trying to grasp the who is who in the main room. After a few minutes, he is approached by a tall dark woman, wearing a black dress.



"Hello, darling, won't you fetch me a glass of wine?", she asks.

"This is not funny, Crowley. You know I can see your demonic aura, no matter what illusion powers you use to disguise yourself," Jacob sighs, as his antagonist chuckles.

This comment from Crowley piques Jacob's interest.

"You're saying there's not even one of us here? That's certainly strange. Do you think it has anything to do with the terrible weather these days?"

"All kinds of theories," Jacob shrugs. "But none of them seem any more plausible than the other. I just thought of it because this place is magically protected from the rain, so perhaps there was some relation. What about you, then? What did you hear?"

Emma was no stranger to attention, but the intensity of the stares she felt at that moment was unlike anything she had experienced before. It wasn’t the usual male gaze; this was something primal and predatory. The eyes of the vampires around her fixated on her with an intensity that made her feel like a literal 'piece of meat' on display, vulnerable and exposed. She quickly averted her gaze, scanning the room instead.

The space resembled a grand ballroom, with its opulent decor and shimmering chandeliers, but something was undeniably amiss. There were no bars stocked with drinks or platters of hors d'oeuvres that one would expect at such an event. Instead, an unsettling realization began to dawn on her: the few guests who still had a pulse appeared to be there not as patrons but as potential refreshments for the ravenous crowd surrounding them.

She smiled nervously when she heard her name being called, but the smile faded quickly as the warning behind the words settled in. She wasn't sure if the man was genuinely concerned for her safety, or making some thinly veiled threat.

"I appreciate your concern" she replied, directing her words to Federico, though she could sense he was speaking on behalf of his mistress. "I certainly wouldn’t want to put myself in unnecessary danger—or end up as an ‘accident.’" Her expressive blue eyes locked onto the striking woman in the business suit, the one she suspected was calling the shots. "Do you know anyone who might be willing to look after me in the absence of my benefactor? Perhaps one day I could return the favor."

"I'm used to being 'in the red'" she merely said. She has seen Eliot treat favors like hard currency in the short time she spent in his company. And though he, and others like him, may think a debt is a 'big deal' in the supernatural world - it is only because they never had to contend with a bank trying to recover their loan. Those could be as ruthless as any Vampire Lord.

Emma bristled at the implications of Federico's words. It felt as though he was asserting that she belonged to Eliot, treating her like some sort of an object rather than an individual. Even if his intention was to avoid crossing Eliot, he should have chosen his phrasing with far greater consideration.

"Got it. ‘Shut up and look pretty’" she said with not the slightest hint of sarcasm "It was a pleasure making your acquaintance, Mr. Christobal. Miss Armitage. Enjoy the party."

She waited for them to leave her before scanning the room once again, this time trying to look for a familiar face...

Jacob decides to ignore Crowley's pun about how clever he is. Before they get into a long game of finding out what each other knows, Jacob can't help but notice that he actually does know the woman's face.

"Crowley, I know you're desperate for some social interaction, but if you ask me, I think it was risky of you to take Lady Halifax's face. Tell me, what have you done to her?" he asks. Lady Halifax was a noblewoman, well known in supernatural circles. Some said she was a vampire, but that was never proven, most people thought she was just a mortal with many contacts in every faction.

"Sure, Hali" Jacob nods, at least everyone will see him using to the famous Lady Halifax, that could surely bring him social benefits (or be a source of future issues if it turns out the real lady is in trouble).

"So, it's been long time no talk. What you've been up to?

'Some party' Emma thought with a sigh. Where was the food? The alcohol? The music and dancing? Everyone seemed so reserved and distant. Maybe that was just how the power players operated—deliberately cold, as if their superiority meant they had to maintain an air of aloofness.

She did spot Benji in the corner, deep in conversation with a vampire who looked like a corpse dug up from a grave. Tangled hair, long fingernails, and clothes that appeared little more than filthy rags, he certainly looked like the type Federico warned her about. Better not to interrupt them, because she had little doubt an 'accident' might occur if she got too close.

But she wasn’t going to stand there alone, either. She came to the party expecting to meet interesting people, and that’s just what she was going to do! Deciding to hunt someone to talk to, she shifted her eyes across the crowd, searching for someone with a more eclectic choice of attire, and a friendlier disposition.

Emma’s gaze settled on the only man standing apart from the crowd. He was an unassuming figure—short, with bugged eyes, and a bit lanky, wearing jeans, a half-tucked plaid shirt, and a bright red baseball hat. He flashed a toothy smile when their eyes met, but he exuded too much an aura of an outcast, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that being seen with him would raise eyebrows.

'Screw it' she thought. Eliot was supposed to be here, or at least have someone introduce her to the others. Huffing inwardly to herself, she straightened her shoulders and made her way toward a couple standing nearby; the handsome man in a tailored business suit, and the woman in a stunning black dress that was almost as provocative as Emma’s.

"Hi, I’m sorry to bother you" she said, adopting a slightly vulnerable demeanor, lowering her voice and biting her lip for effect "Have either of you seen Mr. Parry tonight? Eliot Parry?"

As expected, Crowley reveals only the bare minimum needed to encourage Jacob to converse as well. The two demons, familiar with each other's tactics, quickly engage in a game of bluff, each attempting to extract more information from the other without disclosing too much.

"Come on, sly old fox, you wouldn't risk showing that face at a public event like this without a good reason. What brings you here? Look, it's just the two of us tonight, so how about we set aside our differences for one day and collaborate to make the most of this party?" he suggests at one point.

They manage to exchange a decent amount of dialogue before being interrupted by a blonde woman in a stunning red dress. Jacob restrains himself from sighing dramatically after Crowley's display, but he has to acknowledge that the old chap knows how to impersonate a lady. He isn't acquainted with Hali personally, but he suspects Crowley is likely executing a flawless imitation.

"Demure doesn't suit me OUT of this dress either" Emma dropped the 'babe in the woods' act, smiling mischievously at the woman "Mr. Parry was the one who invited me to the party. I thought he would be here to show me around, introduce me, but I haven't seen him all evening" she was in no rush to defend Eliot's honor from the woman's put-downs, part because she didn't want to challenge anything she said, but mostly because she agreed with her every word

"I'm Emma Harper" she clasped the woman's hand with both her own, rather than kissing it, and waited for her to introduce herself as well.

Eliot's newest...what, exactly? She would ask Lady Halifax what she meant, only she was sure it was nothing good.

"That's very kind of you" Emma tested her, implying that Lady Halifax would help her out - if not out of the goodness of her heart, then out of common courtesy. If Lady Halifax insists on explicitly asking for a favor in return, it would only cast her as boorish and crude - someone Emma wouldn't want anything to do with.

"Oh, I see. You know how to lure a demon, if you'll pardon the pun," Jacob replies. "A treasure hunt in this castle could be... interesting," he accepts.

Unfortunately, the lady in red decides to interrupt their conversation at that moment, before they can further agree on a plan. Crowley starts toying with her, and Jacob finally decides to cough politely when he mentions introductions to the best people.

Jacob decides to step forward and shake the newcomer's hand.

"I don't know Mr Parry that well, but I have a friend in common with him, and I'm sure he wouldn't dare stand you up, my dear. My name is Jacob," he says as a sort of introduction.

"...Jacob" She had heard that name before, and once the man mentioned his friend knew Mr. Parry, she was sure it was the same person Benji mentioned: "You're Benji's friend!" '- and my ride back home, in case Mr. Parry proves to be a dick' she added silently in her mind. "He helped me pick this dress earlier today, and was kind enough to answer a few of my questions. You've known him for long?" "

"Oh, you know Benji? That's a very nice surprise. I've known him for... quite a long time, yes" he adds, not sure about whether she even knows about Benji's true nature.

"It was more helping me 'pick up' than 'pick out', but yea" she decided it was best to correct the misunderstanding, else the woman might think she was trying to deceive her "I've only met him yesterday, so I can't say I know him all too well. But he appears to be on-the-level" Her eyes wandered to look at Benji from across the room, nodding at him softly. She wasn't averse to exchanging a little bit of gossip, but talking about someone else while he was standing just a few feet from them didn't sit right with her

"Anyways" she changed the subject "-what's the great occasion? Are we celebrating anything in particular tonight?"

Before Jacob can interject, Crowley has already extended an invitation to a complete stranger. Jacob is uncertain, but considering the woman is Benji's friend and Crowley's knack for recognizing talent, it might not be such a bad idea. Hesitant, Jacob turns to Emma, waiting to gauge her response before making a decision on whether to intervene.

"Oh" Emma let out a soft sigh "That’s why it doesn’t look like much of a party. I was really looking forward to having some fun tonight."

She was a bit skeptical of the notion that everyone had gathered just to discuss the incessant rain. This was still England, right? A little drizzle—or even a lot—shouldn’t be that surprising. Then again, she had a hard time remembering when was the last time she saw the sun. Had it really been so many weeks? Maybe even months?

It was intriguing, and staying to listen to the discussion could prove to be very interesting. Even if it wasn’t, she still wouldn’t have joined Hali’s escapade. It was her first soiree, and she wanted to tread carefully. Make a positive impression. And most importantly - stay alive to come back to her husband at the end of the night.

"In that case, I think I’ll stay here and listen in. I’m quite curious to hear what everyone thinks about this situation" she turned down the invitation as graciously as she could manage.

"If Eliot doesn’t have anything else planned for me, I might just take you on your offer" she said without giving her an explicit commitment, and throwing Eliot’s name in there quite intentionally to remind her she was under the vampire Lord’s protection. The woman looked too eager to get Emma to join her in some secluded spot, and she decided she wanted no part of whatever she was planning.

‘Better the devil you know than the devil you don't’. Eliot was a narcissist who only cared for himself, but at least he saw Emma as a lovely trinket to possess. She couldn’t say the same for Hali. It was better to play it safe. Besides, who knows what other interesting people she might meet during the evening? That’s what she was really there for that evening – to hobnob with the strange and unfamiliar. It was a shame to commit herself now to the rest of the evening, when there could be so many other exciting opportunities waiting in store for her.

"Don’t take Hali too seriously; she’s always joking, aren’t you, my lady?" Jacob emphasized the last words, hoping Crowley would abandon his attempt to drag all three of them into trouble.

"By the way, where’s Elliott? I bet he’s planning a grand entrance when everyone’s watching. That would be so typical of him."

"I'm sure we can" she answered Hali, the mischievous smile on her lips suggesting she didn't agree with her for politeness sake only.

"Well; he got everyone talking about him, that's for sure" Emma wasn't as certain Elliot planned his tardiness in advance. She was only invited to the party to begin with to make him look good. She expected he would brief her on how to carry herself before she ever stepped into the ball room; she was his guest, and her behavior reflected on him.

It was odd that he didn't meet her at the entrance, and as more time passed, the more she suspected some foul play was involved. Or at the very least; something so urgent have come up that required his undivided attention. She was quite curious to know what exactly was going on, but unfortunately, she had no choice but stand around and wait - like everyone else "Just in case - you don't mind me catching a ride with you and Benji back to London after the party?"

"Of course, darling, it'll be my pleasure to offer you a ride. Some of us still know how a gentleman should behave," Jacob replies to Emma.

"Thank you" it looked like things were about to start, and Eliot still hadn't shown his face. It was beginning to look more and more likely that she would depend on Jacob for her ride back home to London.

Typical. The woman who had completely ignored Emma and refused to utter a single word in her direction was the one running the show. Emma didn't regret how she conducted herself in their prior 'conversation'. Shelyna did treat her like she was beneath contempt, and Emma was too proud to prostrate herself before her, even if she was 'mighty and powerful'

The one thing she did regret was not paying closer attention to David’s stories. He had gone on and on these last few weeks about the areas hardest hit by the storm and which parts of the city were now flooded. While it hadn’t pointed her directly to the culprits, it could have offered valuable clues. Perhaps she would ask him about it later—unless, of course, the mystery was resolved that very evening.

Without any valuable input of her own to offer, she glanced around the room instead, scrutinizing everyone’s reactions. Who seemed defensive? Did their responses feel rehearsed or genuine? It was likely that some of them held more information than they were letting on. By simply observing, she might uncover a secret or two.

Jacob simply listens to the uproar that ensued following Shelyna's declaration, attempting to gauge the audience's reactions through their body language rather than their spoken words. It's evident that the one responsible for tampering with the weather will remain silent (if they are present in the room at all), leaving him puzzled as to why Shelyna has chosen to be so straightforward.

Emma didn’t come to the party to serve as Eliot’s eye candy. She didn’t want to be treated as little more than an accessory or a pretty face, nor was she content with merely observing the creatures of the night from a distance. She wanted to be a part of the world. To be taken seriously, rather than dismissed with the patronizing concern over the possibility of needing to scrape her off the floor.

The blonde’s eyes darted around the room, scanning the strange figures of the crowd. There had to be someone here who possessed knowledge about the calamitous weather. Maybe that person was deliberately keeping quiet, or maybe they were trying to redirect the blame onto someone else entirely. But there had to be someone. If she could but identify the right individual, she could leverage that information to her own advantage. The thought of turning their secrets into a form of power thrilled her more than the mystery itself. She didn’t need to solve the riddle of the tempest; she wanted to manipulate it.

Minutes slipped by as the people suggested one option after another, and Emma felt no closer to her goal. She wasn’t a behavioral psychologist or a detective; even if she were, the strange nuances of the eccentric guests made it nearly impossible to draw any meaningful conclusions. Just as she was about to resign herself to defeat, she caught sight of Lady Halifax standing nearby.

Hadn’t ‘Hali’ mentioned being more interested in what others had to say about the unfolding situation? She recalled Hali suggested finding something more entertaining to occupy their time too. She seemed oddly disinterested in the proceedings, maybe because she had some deeper knowledge of what was going on?

She couldn’t confront her directly—not yet. But maybe she could probe her later. Carefully.

Jacob nods at Crowley, but is otherwise silent. Emma is still there, and he doesn't want to give himself away. And suddenly this soiree has become a very dangerous place for two demons like them. Jacob has seen this a thousand times before. If these were ordinary people instead of supernatural beings, they'd be already gathering pitchforks and torches.

Of course, Crowley is not worried, because he trusts his disguise. And probably few people know Jacob's true nature now, so he should be relatively safe if he keeps a low profile. Which would mean forgetting about Crowley's treasure hunt. Yes, that would be the wisest thing to do. Then why does Jacob feel the urge to follow his adversary on this silly adventure?

Emma heard countless names in her profession, so many that she struggled to keep track of them all. She vaguely recalled Thompson pitching writing a piece on some 'Lady Halifax', as a fashion icon and an 'aristocratic socialite'. Her boss had a brash suggestion about ambushing her and trying to interview her while she was staying at the Ritz. And she said 'no', because she still had a shred of self-respect.

She wasn’t a paparazzi, or celebrity sleuth who had nothing better to do than write about the lives and scandals of public figures. There wasn’t really a story there. It’s not like writing about home décor, relationships or the newest nightclubs, was that much more glamorous, but at least it wasn’t tabloid gossip.

But that was before Emma knew Halifax was connected somehow to the supernatural world. Maybe getting to know her better wasn’t such a bad idea after all. At the very least, she would make Thompson happy.

Smiling faintly at Halifax in return, she went back to listening to the ongoing conversation. Someone else might still volunteer some interesting tidbit of information, and she didn’t want to miss it.

"Wait... Isn't that Benji?", Jacob raises an eyebrow, surprised that his friend is taking the floor.

The way the crowd reacted made it clear that the "fairies" they were talking about weren’t the delicate, butterfly-winged beings she had read about in childhood stories. She could already tell from their reactions—half awed, half fearful—that these creatures were something much darker, far removed from the harmless, whimsical fae of fairy tales. There were hundreds of different types of Fae she'd come across in books, ranging from mischievous sprites to the terrifying, bloodthirsty entities, but her 'knowledge' came straight out of the pages of literal faerie tales. The Fae of the real world could be nothing like them. Whatever they were like, she was curious to know more, maybe even meet one - as long as she could do so without losing her life in the process.

Once again, the uncomfortable sensation of someone watching her with unsettling intensity returned. She tried to ignore the hungry gaze of the shabby man standing next to Benji, but it was hard to shake the feeling that she was a potential meal. She did dress to attract a vampire tonight, but this man wasn’t the kind of vampire she’d planned for. He looked more like a corpse that had crawled out of its grave, and it took everything in her not to flinch when his gaze locked with hers, like a predator eyeing its prey.

Shaking off the chill creeping down her spine, she focused on something—someone—else.
"Do you know much about fairies? Or demons?" she asked Hali, trying to sound as casual as she could, though her eyes darted to Benji, silently pleading him to join them

""No fairies... anywhere in England?" Emma was half-incredulous, half skeptical. "And what were these... 'werewolf wars'? What was that all about?"

Her curiosity was piqued, but she was also a little irked. Every answer Hali gave only opened the door to ten more questions. It was as if she was enjoying dropping these strange names and cryptic references just to see Emma struggle to keep up, deliberately trying to make her feel small and out of her depth. And the fact is that she DID feel exposed and vulnerable, but she wasn’t going to show it to her. She was therefore happy to see Benji finally joining them, greeting the vampire with a smile of relief:

"Hi, Benji!" she greeted him warmly "Oh, yes. The party’s been great. Met a lot of interesting people. Learned more in the last hour than I ever thought I would"

She stopped to glance at Hali, and back at him "How are you doing? I don’t suppose you know why Elliot hasn’t shown up, do you?" she tried not to look too concerned, but it was Eliot who was the one to invite her, and the one who vouched for her safety. And yet, here she was, alone in a room full of vampires assessing her from every corner, with no sign of him "It’s not like him at all, to miss a gathering like this"

"My purse is in the cloakroom. Would you mind giving him a call?" she begged Benji. She was concerned about what happened to Eliot - not because she had any soft spot for the narcissistic vampire lord, but because she was worried for her own safety. His inexplicable absence didn't leave her comfortable enough to venture the castle with Hali, whom she just met, and knew next to nothing about

"It was a pleasure meeting you, Lady Halifax" she smiled thinly at the woman "I would have been happy to join you, but I have to find out what happened to Eliot first"

"Darling, I wouldn't advise wandering these rooms alone," Jacob remarks. His enthusiasm for Emma joining Crowley's plans is lacking, but he can't leave her behind. Besides, she's Benji's friend. "Actually, you both should join us. Elliot can manage on his own," he concludes, shrugging.

"I don't remember his phone number, no" she sighed inwardly to herself as she considered her options. If something DID happen to Eliot, it was in her interest to 'get the ins' with someone else. And with Benji accompanying them, she would feel that much less at risk
"Alright. Maybe a short tour around the castle. But give a quick call to Teddy, if it's not too much trouble?"

"This can’t be good" If the tracker in his Jaguar wasn’t responding, it could only mean one thing: foul play. Someone had deliberately tampered with it, which meant it couldn't be a mere accident. It wasn’t entirely surprising someone was out to get him. Eliot wasn’t exactly known for being particularly friendly. She was sure he had made himself lots of enemies, but even so, her dislike for him didn’t blind her to the broader consequences of his disappearance. The power vacuum left in his wake could be catastrophic.

Benji told her all about Eliot's brutal rise to power. If he was gone, it would leave a gaping hole at the top of the vampire hierarchy, one that any number of ambitious pretenders to the throne would rush to fill. There would be blood on the streets, unless he somehow miraculously reappears before sunrise.

"Traffic on the way here was diverted today because of an overturned lorry. You think it might have had something to do with it?"