The week leading up to the gathering passed in a blur of preparation and nervous energy.
Marco had morize everything we knew about Selene’s inner circle – the regulars who frequented her VIP section, their allegiances, their weaknesses. Elena spent hours teaching how to recognize different types of wards so I could scout the upper floors without triggering alarms.
Tommy provided with a contact lens – magical tech hybrid – that would record everything I saw for later analysis.
"Don’t get caught with this," he said as he fitted it. "If Selene realizes you’re recording her private space, you’re dead. And I an actually dead, not ’mission failed’ dead."
"Comforting."
"I’m serious. This thing is cutting edge, but it’s not infallible. She’s got detection spells that could pick it up if she’s actively scanning."
"Then I’ll make sure she’s not actively scanning."
Sarah drilled on combat scenarios, just in case. "You’re walking into a vampire’s territory with a bunch of other predators. If things go south, you need to know how to fight your way out."
"I can handle myself."
"Against one or two, sure. Against a room full of supernatural elite?" She threw a punch that I barely blocked. "You need to be better than handle yourself. You need to be perfect."
By Saturday, I was as prepared as I could be. The team would be staged outside the building – Sarah, Viktor, and Marco in a van with weapons and extraction equipnt. If I sent the distress signal, they’d co in hard and fast.
Assuming I’d be alive long enough to send it.
I dressed carefully – black suit, no mask this ti since it was a private gathering. The contact lens was invisible once inserted, and I’d practiced accessing its recording function with subtle eye movents.
"You look good," Vivienne said when I stopped by her place briefly. I’d told her I had a work thing, and she’d insisted on seeing before I left.
"Thanks."
She straightened my tie, then kissed . "Be careful tonight. I don’t know what you’re doing, but I can tell it’s dangerous."
"It’s just a eting."
"etings don’t make people this tense." She ran her hand down my chest. "Promise you’ll be smart."
"Always am."
"Liar." But she smiled. "Go. Do your thing. And text when you’re done so I know you’re alive."
I left her townhouse and t up with the team at the staging point – a parking garage three blocks from the Velvet Room.
"Comms check," Marco said, handing an earpiece so small it was almost invisible.
I fitted it. "Check."
"Good. We’ll be monitoring, but keep the chatter minimal. If Selene has any magical surveillance, she might pick up on radio frequencies." Marco’s expression was serious. "You get in trouble, you signal, we extract. No heroics."
"No heroics," I agreed.
Sarah grabbed my arm as I started to leave. "Cain. Really. Be careful. This feels wrong."
"Everything about this job feels wrong. That’s what makes it pay well."
"That’s not what I an." She lowered her voice. "My instincts are screaming that this is a setup. I don’t know if Selene’s onto you specifically, but sothing is off."
"Noted. But I’m still going."
"I know. Just... don’t die, okay? You’re starting to grow on ."
I smiled. "I’ll do my best."
The walk to the Velvet Room felt longer than usual. The city was alive with Saturday night energy – humans and supernatural alike filling the streets, oblivious to the gas being played in the shadows.
The doorman recognized imdiately. "Mr. Cross. Ms. Blackwater is expecting you. Top floor, private elevator on the left."
He directed past the main entrance to a separate elevator I hadn’t noticed before. It required a key card, which he provided. The doors closed, and I ascended alone.
[Warning: Entering Heavily Warded Space]
[Magical Defenses: Extre]
[Detection Risk: High]
[Maintain Natural Behavior]
The elevator opened to a completely different world than the main club below.
Where the lower floors were all dark elegance and controlled chaos, this was refined luxury. Hardwood floors, expensive art on the walls, floor-to-ceiling windows offering a panoramic view of the city. And in the center, a seating area where about a dozen people were gathered.
Selene stood as I entered, wearing a white dress that contrasted sharply with her usual black. It made her look almost angelic, which was probably intentional irony by the heavens.
"Alexander. Welco." She gestured to the group. "Let introduce you to so friends."
I recognized a few faces from my previous visits. Jade Lin was there, wearing a knowing smile. Victor Zhao – the man Jade had ntioned who’d been trying to join the inner circle for years – watched with barely concealed hostility. A woman I didn’t know sat beside him, beautiful and dangerous in equal asure.
"This is Alexander Cross," Selene announced. "A newcor to our city who’s proven... interesting."
The way she said ’interesting’ made it clear this was a test for everyone present, not just .
"Interesting how?" Victor asked, his tone challenging.
"That’s what we’re here to discover." Selene gestured to an empty seat beside Jade. "Please, sit. We were just discussing the recent territory disputes in the North District."
I sat, hyper-aware of every eye on . This wasn’t a casual gathering. This was an evaluation.
The conversation flowed, and I mostly listened, contributing only when directly addressed. The topics ranged from local supernatural politics to broader movents in the global community. Everyone here was connected, inford, powerful.
And they were all testing .
"What do you think, Alexander?" Selene asked during a lull. "About the proposal to formalize supernatural governance in the city?"
Every instinct scread this was a trap question. There was no right answer – just varying degrees of wrong depending on who you offended.
"I think formalization requires trust," I said carefully. "And trust requires ti. Rushing it to satisfy human bureaucracy tilines will only create resentnt and fracture existing alliances."
"So you oppose it," Victor said.
"I oppose rushing it. There’s a difference."
"Is there?" The woman beside Victor spoke for the first ti. Her voice was cold, controlled. "Seems like a diplomatic way of saying you don’t want change."
"I didn’t say I don’t want change. I said I don’t want poorly implented change that causes more problems than it solves." I t her gaze. "Change for change’s sake is just chaos with better marketing."
Jade snorted, covering it with a cough. Selene’s expression remained neutral, but I caught the faintest hint of amusent in her eyes.
"Bold," the woman said. "I’m Natasha, by the way. Natasha Volkov."
The na clicked. Volkov. One of the old vampire bloodlines I was told about, connected to European nobility and rumored to have serious political influence.
"Pleasure to et you," I said.
"We’ll see." But she smiled, showing fangs.
The evening continued, and gradually I realized what was happening. This wasn’t just Selene evaluating . Everyone here was sizing each other up, jockeying for position, trying to figure out who was useful and who was competition.
The Velvet Room’s VIP level wasn’t just exclusive – it was a battlefield where wars were fought with words instead of weapons.
Around midnight, Selene stood. "I need to check on sothing downstairs. I trust you’ll all behave while I’m gone?"
She left, and the atmosphere imdiately shifted. Less formal, more honest.
"So," Victor said, turning to . "What’s your real angle here?"
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