Marcus exhaled slowly, the breath heavy with tension as he sat behind his desk, the soft creak of the leather chair the only sound in the dim office. He stared down at the case file spread open before him, though his eyes weren't really reading. His thoughts were elsewhere—specifically, on the vampire currently being interrogated two floors down.
He'd managed to spin a clean enough lie to protect Eric's identity, crafting a plausible human crime out of a supernatural mess. But in the time it took to bring Eric in, Vince had already gotten to the neighbor—the old woman Eric had compelled—and cracked her resolve like wet porcelain. Now she couldn't remember why she called the police, or even what she'd heard. That made things worse. Then there was Vicky, who'd spotted the scratch marks Eric had left on the window frame while climbing out. She was already asking too many questions. The whole thing was snowballing into a disaster.
Which is why Marcus called in backup. Not someone official. Someone capable.
He just had to wait.
Knock knock.
Marcus was on his feet before the second knock landed. He strode to the door, yanked it open—and without a word, grabbed the visitor by the arm and pulled them inside with force.
"Wow," came a husky voice laced with artificial sweetness. "So forceful. But I guess that's to be expected from your kind." A smirk played on her lips. "Not that I mind."
"Don't start, Alexa," Marcus muttered, slamming the door shut and turning to face her. "You know why I called you. Just do your job."
Alexa tilted her head with mock innocence, the overhead light catching the pale green of her eyes. She was striking, almost unsettlingly so. Towering close to six feet, she moved with the lazy grace of a cat that already knew it owned the room. Her black hair spilled like ink down to her knees, somehow perfectly straight despite the humidity, and her body—long-limbed, toned, with curves in all the right places—felt too perfect to be real. Marcus doubted it was.
"Come now," she purred, walking slowly around his desk. "We haven't seen each other in ages. Let's chat a bit, dear." She plopped herself down in his chair like she owned it, crossed her legs, and leaned back with a satisfied sigh.
Marcus's eye twitched. "For the love of—We don't have anything to talk about. We've got a mess on our hands, and your job is to clean it up." He stalked toward the desk, hands curling into fists. "The veil's at risk, Alexa. Again. And this time, it's not some low-tier ghoul incident. If people start asking the wrong questions—"
"Oh, god, spare me the lecture," she interrupted, waving a hand lazily. "Keep the veil up. Nulls can't know. Lies upon lies. You've been chanting that same tired mantra since we met. How about something fresh?" Her eyes lit up wickedly. "Like… have you sexed that Vicky girl yet?"
Marcus froze.
A vein bulged near his temple.
His hands slammed down on the desk—hard. The wood creaked beneath his palms, but held. Barely.
"Are you trying to piss me off?" he snapped.
Alexa gave a sly smile and offered no reply.
"Listen to me, you insufferable mage. That vampire down there? Every second he talks, it gets harder for you to do your job. And when your job gets harder, mine becomes a living nightmare. So if you don't want this whole damn building collapsing under the weight of one blown cover, then shut the hell up… and handle it."
For a few long seconds, she just stared at him—expression unreadable. Then, finally, she let out a dramatic sigh and rose from the chair, stretching like she'd just woken from a nap.
"Fine~," she groaned. "Can't have any fun these days."
She sauntered up to him, stopping just close enough to test his patience again. Arms crossed, chin tilted, voice low.
"So… do I get my payment now, or after?"
Marcus let out a breath—this one full of cautious relief. If she was talking about payment, it meant she'd do it.
"Later," he said. "I've got somewhere to be tonight. I'll bring it to you when I'm done."
"Oh yeah~?" she teased, one brow arching with playful suspicion. "And just where might that be?"
Marcus didn't answer right away. He strode across the room, grabbing his jacket from the rack and slipping it on with practiced efficiency. Then he opened the locked drawer in his desk and retrieved his sidearm—not that it would do much against vampires, but it made him look more official.
"Club Platinum," he said flatly, checking the weapon's chamber out of habit.
Alexa let out an exaggerated gasp and placed a hand to her mouth in mock horror. "Oh no~!" she drawled, voice dripping with sarcasm. "Have you finally replaced nicotine with a new vice? Is it booze now? Something harder? Or do you just want a bunch of scantily clad women grinding on you while you… dance? Because if that's the case, Marcus, I'm right here."
He didn't even dignify that with a glare. Just kept his focus on holstering his weapon and slipping the jacket's collar into place.
"I'm going there because that's where the vampire's master is," he said, voice low with the promise of violence. "According to Eric, he's the reason this whole thing spiraled out of control. So I'm going to pay him a visit—and discipline him."
At that, Alexa's tongue flicked across her lips.
Marcus froze for half a second.
Shit. That wasn't a good sign. She only did that when something genuinely interested her.
"Well, well…" she murmured, voice like a purr. "Got room for one more detective?"
Even as she said it, she was already undoing the top buttons of her blouse, shifting her outfit from office intruder to something much more… club appropriate.
Marcus snapped his gaze away. "What? No! You're supposed to be covering this mess up, remember?"
"I can do it at the club," she said, that dangerous smirk still tugging at her lips. "In fact, it'd be easier with access to vampire blood. Makes the ritual work smoother—cleaner."
Marcus sighed and dragged a hand down his face, the cold surface of his prosthetic scraping lightly over his stubble.
"Fiiine," he muttered. "Come along, then."
He headed for the door, dragging his boots across the floor with the reluctant weight of a man walking into a storm. Just before he turned the handle, he glanced back over his shoulder. "And wipe everyone's memory of you being here."
Behind him, Alexa laughed—a low, velvety sound. "Oh, Detective. Don't worry. That's already taken care of."
He looked back just in time to see her pull a small talisman from between her breasts, the charm etched with glowing runes that pulsed faintly in the dim office light.
"This little beauty makes me invisible to null eyes. As far as they're concerned, I was never even in this building."
She twirled it between her fingers before slipping it back where it came from.
Marcus just stared at her for a second, then muttered under his breath, "Alright then. Let's go."
And with that, the two of them stepped out of his office—off to deal with vampires and whatever chaos awaited them at Club Platinum.