Prologue 1 & 2
Prologue 1
The vampire tasted the blood in his mouth. It was sweet and warm with a spicy follow through; a rare sample supplied by the Dealer. “Is it real?” asked the vampire.
“Does it taste real?”
The vampire looked at the Dealer. “It does.”
“Then believe it to be.”
The vampire closed the sample bottle, his tongue savouring the last drops of blood from his lips. “They exist in high numbers?”
“Oh yes.” The dealer nodded slowly, not looking the vampire in the eye. “Large numbers, yes, but they do not live in cities. They are scattered. Small towns, but yes, their numbers are vast.”
The vampire pulled a leather wallet from his coat, opening it whilst continuously looking at the dealer. He revealed ten crisp fifty pound notes. “Five hundred, I believe.”
“Yes, yes. Five hundred of that currency.”
The vampire placed the notes into the Dealer’s hands. He watched the old man as he quickly thrust the money into his trousers. The vampire stepped closer to the Dealer. “I need the location, Dealer. Where do they reside?”
The dealer frowned. “That is secret. I admit I am hurt. I was under the impression that we would work together. I would supply, whilst you would buy.” The Dealer looked at the vampire, and then at another standing a few metres behind, hidden in the night shadows.
The vampire smiled, prompting the Dealer to do the same. Suddenly the vampire’s hand lunged forward and grabbed the dealer by his bony, wrinkled neck. He squeezed firmly, quietly swearing in his native Spanish, before bearing his sharp fangs to the man before him. The vampire standing behind in the distance did not move. He watched silently, although the Dealer was sure he saw a fanged smile. “Our business has concluded, Dealer. We no longer need your services. Give me the location and do not test me old man.”
The dealer nodded furiously. “Yes, yes. I do not question nor do I complain. I am a businessman simply motivated by money and greed. Forgive my foolishness. I am nothing but dirt to your majesty.”
“Location.”
“Yes. They live underground. Not in the sewers, but further down. They travel in the dark through the tunnels of the tube. They are fresh and their blood warm. The sample I gave you does not even prepare one for the riches to be found. Their blood is diamond. Their blood is gold.”
The vampire released the dealer. “Send what you have to the office. The hunt will commence soon.” The vampire turned to leave but was suddenly stopped. The dealer had held on to his arm.
“Before you leave, there is one more thing. I have gained a curious knowledge. For my benefit, yes but perhaps for your own benefit as well? It will cost, yes. But it is worth it.”
The vampire raised his eyebrow. “Speak.”
“Blood is not the only treasure you will find underground.”
The vampire stepped closer. “Be clear.”
“The creatures underground, they will give you more than just blood. There is a map and within it, a code. Within that code is a secret – one that will empower any who hold it. Do you wish to hold it?”
The vampire didn’t respond. He didn’t leave either.
The dealer smiled. “Bring me money, and I will tell you all. I will tell you everything.” The dealer lowered his voice, almost to a whisper, looking around as he spoke. “I will tell you about the elf-fairies, and the lost map of the underground.”
Prologue 2
The Dealer ran with purpose over the cobbled square of Covent Garden. His pocket watch had just struck three in the morning, and the night air was cold and biting. He lifted his hat to scratch the skin beneath his receding hair before wiping mucus dripping from his nose. London was suffering a harsh winter and the dealer didn’t enjoy working the graveyard shift. It was unfortunate that most of his dealings were conducted beyond the midnight hour, but his clients tended to be those wishing to be hidden, wanting to be lost in the shadows of the dark.
From the square he went past the Transport Museum and headed towards his home. He lived behind the theatres of the West End, hidden in the narrow streets surrounded by offices and cafés, restaurants and pubs. He made his way quickly to the door that led to his basement property, not looking at the homeless sleeping in doorways, by-passing the loud partygoers stumbling out of the nightclubs, avoiding the drunken men and women vomiting on the roads.
When he reached the basement door, he turned the lock and entered, looking behind him as he did so. The hallway before him was small and dark, and he immediately noticed that the light in his office was on. He had a visitor. The Dealer slowly and quietly swung his hand behind him to open the leather satchel he was carrying on his back. A small dagger slid out of a pouch and into his hand and the dealer tensed to attack. He was not much of a fighter but he was no victim either. At speed he charged into his office, tripping over the doorway and landing on his right side, his face slamming to the floor.
“Classy. Real classy.”
The Dealer looked up at the woman sitting in his leather office chair and spat onto the floor. “Bah! Witches!”
The woman smirked. “Come now, Dealer. Is that the way to greet an old client?” The woman stood up from the chair and extended a hand to the Dealer. She was as beautiful as she was the last time he had met her. It seemed that she had mastered the effects of time.
“I do not need your hand to stand up, Rhianne. My age has not bettered me as of yet.”
Rhianne walked back to the chair, smiling as she did so. She moved with a graceful confidence, unmoved by the Dealer’s irritation. “Your wish, Dealer.”
“Yes, well, what are you doing here? Breaking and entering is against the law if I remember correctly.” The Dealer slowly stood up and carefully placed his leather satchel onto a filing cabinet behind him.
“The laws of men do not bind us, Dealer. You know this more than I.”
“Yes, but we are still bound by the laws of property. And this office is my property. What do you want from me, Rhianne? If you are looking for merchandise, this is not how I conduct business.”
“You seem rattled, little man. Somewhat disturbed.”
The Dealer turned to Rhianne, dismissing her with his hand. “I am fine. Not in a slight bother at all.”
“Oh, come now Dealer. I am a witch, and you know that you can’t play a witch. I know things and see much; often more than what some people would want me to see. Let me look and let me think. Let me travel into your mind.” Rhianne closed her eyes briefly for effect, knowing full well that she had no such power of reading minds, but smirking to herself at the fact that the Dealer had no idea of the con. “Hmm, ah yes. I can sense something. Hmm, I have something. Yes, are you troubled because of…of…the elf-fairies?”
The Dealer froze. How did she do that? He tried not to look startled, but his legs began to wobble from sheer nerves. The Dealer had been around for many years and had dealt with many kinds, but he still had no control over his nerves. Especially when he had done something wrong; especially when he had done something evil; and especially when he was dealing with witches. “I, oh, ah elf-fairies? What are these, elf-fairies?”
Rhianne quickly stepped up to the Dealer and took his face into her hand. Her nails dug deep into his cheeks. “Leave the elf-fairies alone.” She spoke calmly, but her anger could not be ignored. “Six of them have gone missing in the past week. I know you have a hand in it. I don’t need to read your mind to know that.”
“No, not I. You must know I do not deal with things forbidden. These elf-fairies are obviously enchanted creatures, and I would have no use of negotiating with the lives of the enchanted. I have no links to their death.”
“Death?” Rhianne pulled him closer. “Who said anything about them dying? I was referring to their disappearance. And yet, you go on about death? What are you up to Dealer? One minute you act as if you’ve never heard of them and the next, you tell me they are enchanted, and then talk about their death? What are you up to? And make sure you reveal the truth. You don’t want to upset a witch. Especially this witch.”
The Dealer didn’t respond. Fear had momentarily taken hold of his tongue. He despised witches. He needed time to think.
“Or should I simply call Ravenscroft. He is rather protective over those little, innocent ‘Elfies’. Would you answer to him instead?”
“Okay, okay.” The Dealer held up his hands. “But it will cost you.” The Dealer wanted nothing to do with Ravenscroft. The guilty never did.
“Dealer!”
“Do not raise your voice, witch. I am a businessman. You give me money and I give you information. That is how it works.”
Rhianne released the Dealer and stepped back. She straightened out her old but elegant woollen overcoat, her long dark braided hair hidden beneath its collars. “What information?”
The Dealer moved to his chair and sat down slowly, briefly grunting as he looked towards Rhianne. “Elf-fairies? You want to know? Well I do have information. Yes, information about elf-fairies, and Vampires. And a map.”
“Vampires? A map?”
“Not just a map but the map. It is the lost map of the underground. No longer lost I should say.”
As Rhianne walked to the filing cabinets and turned, the Dealer looked at his satchel standing behind her. The small satchel held more than his papers, more than his tools and more than his dagger. It held six vials containing pure scarlet blood. The blood belonged to elf-fairies and was more valuable than gold itself, for it carried a secret - a secret that would make the Dealer rich and more powerful than possibly the Devil himself. “Yes” said the Dealer, “The found map of the underground.”
