There is a man sitting at one of the tables. He looks... normal. Just an average guy with oily, black hair and a too-tight suit. He stands and elegantly motions for you to join him.
He's here.
Instantly, your pack is alert.
whatwhatwhatwhat
howhowhowhow
motherfuckermotherfuckermotherfucker
Quiet. The Alpha's howl rings out.
Everyone obeys.
Blackwell waits patiently, a knowing look in his otherwise dull, dead eyes.
Next
You reach into your pocket and try to start your phone recording without looking at the screen. You have no idea if you succeed or not... but you're not going to pull it out of your pocket to check.
"Good evening," Blackwell says, voice unnervingly upbeat, almost singsong, as you approach. "I'm so glad you came. May the moon stay her cry."
You make a face. "What the fuck?"
"Oh? Is that no longer the proper greeting among your kind? Please. Forgive me. The advice I have received may be somewhat out of date. It's not common for us vampires to do business with the children of the moon. Would you like some cake?"
He waves a hand at an untouched cheesecake sitting on the table.
The smell of fresh cream and lemon might have been tempting... if it wasn't overshadowed by the overpowering reek of death.
"Eh... no."
Next