Gabriel
London was ugly.
Not the London described in books—with royal palaces, opera houses, and women in shimmering white dresses. Not the London imagined from afar, painted in dreams.
But the real London.
The narrow alleys where the streets were devoured by rats and despair. The dark corners where every soul had a price. The blood flowing through the shadows as if it were nothing more than dirty rainwater.
This was the London where the vampires hid.
And it was the London where we had to find our teacher.
Raphael
"I hate it here."
I leaned against a damp, crumbling wall as Michael spoke to an old street vendor. This market was a filthy hole, somewhere near the docks. A place where you could buy anything—information, weapons, opium.
Maybe even a soul or two.
"Shut up, Raphael." Gabriel's cold eyes met mine. "Focus."
I rolled my eyes. "I am focusing. Focusing on the fact that I wouldn't trust anyone here, even if my life depended on it."
Gabriel sighed, clearly annoyed.
Michael returned, his steps nearly silent. "Our man's heard of Crowe. He says Crowe was last seen in Whitechapel."
I let out a dry laugh. "Of course. Where else?"
Whitechapel. The dirtiest, most dangerous part of London. And if we were unlucky, also the hunting ground of Jack the Ripper.
"Alright." Gabriel slid his sword back into its sheath. "Let's head to Whitechapel."
Michael
It was nearly midnight when we arrived.
Whitechapel wasn't a place for decent people. Especially not at this hour.
We moved through the narrow, foul-smelling alleys, our weapons hidden beneath our coats. The streets were filled with misery—women desperately trying to earn a few coins. Men searching for the cheapest gin.
And somewhere here, Isaac Crowe was hiding.
"We're not going to just stumble across him," I murmured. "He's not stupid."
Gabriel nodded slowly. "Then we'll make him find us."
I frowned. "How?"
He slowly drew his sword. "We'll let the vampires know we're here."
Gabriel
"Brothers."
Raphael and Michael turned to me. I saw the same determination in their eyes that burned within me.
I raised my sword.
"Pray with me."
Raphael gave a crooked grin. Michael took a deep breath. Then we spoke together.
"Ego vos absolvo…" (I absolve you…)
"Fiat voluntas tua…" (Your will be done…)
"Et in tenebris lucet lux." (And the light shines in the darkness.)
It was our prayer. Our vow.
And tonight, in the filthy streets of Whitechapel, the darkness would hear it.