A soft rain impacted against the window of the office, a smooth, almost rhythmic noise that drowned out the sounds of the city. Outside, cars traveled to and from, unaware of the dangers of the parahuman age.
Out of the corner of her eye, she could see her old CRT monitor sputtering, trying to fight against the influence of the Wizard's presence. A valiant effort was given, but it would ultimately be in vain, putting more pressure on the office's budget. Not her problem though, not right now. She had bigger problems to wrangle.
"I never should have trusted you," she said, arms folded, a grimace that would normally be hidden by her mask now clearly visible. "This wouldn't have happened if I'd placed her in the Wards."
"She would have hated every second of it, and you for making her do it" Myrddin replied.
"And she wouldn't be dead, if not worse," she snapped back. "What's the chance we'll find her running around the streets, killing grade-schoolers for their blood? Just how exactly do these vampires work?"
"I'm not sure of the bloody details, but you can't fully turn without killing someone, then drinking their blood. I'm not sure how her being a cape would influence that, but she's not a killer."
Revel floated back and forth through the room, her power kicking into overdrive as she racked her brain for a way out of this. All this magical bullshit was getting on her nerves, and she hated to admit that she was out of her depth. This wasn't a cape-fight, where neither party knew what they were actually doing. They were dealing with supernatural nations, intricate webs of global politics amongst creatures that ate people for breakfast. Even the tiny shreds Myrddin and his mentor had shared with her were enough to convince her of that.
"So, purely theoretically, if we were to grab all our capes, whatever special unit the mayor can lend us, and call in the National Guard, how would they react? These guys are scared of humanity, right? That's why you all hide in the shadows?"
"Less scared and more… too much of a bother? This isn't some troll hiding beneath a bridge we're talking about. Whether I like it or not, the White Council has a truce with them because they're dangerous, and widespread. More than that, there's other factions like the White Court, who don't want their dirty lingerie aired either."
"That's the sexy vampires right? From Twilight? I'm guessing they have super-strength or something?"
"That, and all the dangers that comes from having a global society of Master/Stranger types with centuries to amass political power."
"So another massive headache I'll have to take into account, great," Revel groaned, still floating back and forth, pacing without moving her feet.. She wasn't entirely unaccustomed to politics in crime-fighting, you didn't get that far in Chicago without running into some kind of widespread corruption, but in those cases she had a team, and experience, to count on. In this case, she was dealing with a different species, and the man she'd ask for help was on the other side of the world for a 'business trip', leaving her with only Myrddin to guide her through magical geopolitics.
"Look, before we start making use of our nation's wonderfully over-militarized police force, I have another idea," Harry said. "Bianca's holding an official party, with costumes, because she's getting a promotion for something she did, probably related to the parahumans in her gang, and in accordance with the Accords, she's invited the local representative for the White Council, and asked him to bring a plus one. We'll use that as a pretext, get into the party, bust Skitter out from the inside, and maybe take out Kraven's ghost in the meantime."
"Kraven? Is this another obscure reference to a second century series of Greek plays?"
"I want to say yes, but I'm not being funny, I just can't remember his real name."
"Very well, so you want to go ruin their party instead. And what kind of assurance do we have that we won't have to deal with a bunch of angry vampires, but without backup of any sort?"
"The Accords," Harry explained. "The Queen of the Winter Court set them up, and breaking their rules like that gets you in trouble with her, whoever you betrayed, and any other faction that wants to take advantage of your temporary political weakness."
"So, we're banking on it that they won't do anything to break these Accords…" Revel said.
"Problem is, we can't break the Accords either," Harry said. "If I go into the party using the invitation, I'll have to play by the same rules."
"And I'm guessing my actions are also judged by those same rules if I come along?" Harry nodded. "Well, I can work with that. I have a plan."
"So, what is it?" Harry asked.
Revel smirked.
"We go in there, we bust Skitter out, we deal with the creepy ghost-warlock, we congratulate a vampire on her future arrest, and we raid the bar for drinks, not necessarily in that order. But first, costumes!"
***Of Monsters and Masquerades***
"Ahahahahaaaa" she laughed, her head thrown back as she cackled.
"No, you've got to enunciate zhe Ah's," Harry replied, "Vone ah, two ah, three ah."
"Very Vunny, now let's get zhis party started," Revel said, unable to stop herself from joining in with the accent. Why, exactly, her accent would become transylvanian if she were a vampire, she didn't quite know, but it seemed to be the right thing to do, getting into character before they arrived. Doing costumes the right way was something all capes could agree on.
The enemies' nest, so to speak, was the Velvet Room, a gentleman's club located at the lakeside that had once been built by Al Capone to house one of his mistresses. Gentleman's club, in this case, meant that it was a club where men legally visited to legally hang out with each other that happened to legally also have women that were very legally almost naked and would have sex with those men, not for money, but because they wanted to, and perhaps also for money because it was a brothel. Which would, of course, be illegal, so it obviously wasn't that and if you wanted to claim that it was what it actually was then you'd need a lot of evidence and even more manpower.
Finding crime to fight in Chicago sucked. On the surface, she knew, there were plenty of criminals around. Thugs, murderers, dealers and muggers, each of them part of a rich ecosystem. But over the years, the real players had mostly managed to inoculate themselves against persecution.
The biggest one was Marcone, who somehow managed to hide a small army capable of holding off a magical werewolf apparently created by a medieval saint. Others, like Bianca, had hidden their illicit business behind a thin veneer of legitimacy, and a whole lot of rich and powerful friends and clients.
Plus, perhaps, some mind control to make her victims clear her of wrongdoing… If all the members of Bianca's gang had Master abilities, they'd have to re-examine a lot of old cases for possible influences after this. Having high-level politicians working for the other side would be a problem for the incoming conflict.
As their taxi stopped in front of the manor, Harry stood up first, opening the door on her side, then offering her a hand. She ignored the gesture, restraining herself from lashing out at him for the behavior. As Myrddin, Harry had an excuse to be somewhat old-fashioned in his chauvinistic treatment of women. Sadly, that wasn't just a marketing gimmick, but his actual behavior.
"Don't want to look weak in front of the predators," she replied, holding her head up as she looked at the bouncers standing at the mansion's gate.
The rain, thankfully, had stopped, and evening was falling over Chicago. In the distance, she could see the last remaining rays of sunlight disappear behind the horizon. Now was the time of darkness, of creatures of the night, hiding among humanity, lying in wait until they could strike.
They looked human. Bulky but not unrealistically so, wearing a cheap suit with an earpiece, a pistol carried in a manner that was not quite open, but not quite concealed either. They looked professional, maybe a bit too professional for the muscle of a normal gang.
Harry handed over his invitation, and the guards' disposition became slightly more suspect once they figured out who they were dealing with. How in the know were they? Had they just been warned about a H. Dresden? Did they know the two of them were capes?
Either way, the two of them were led through, and they walked up a short path towards the mansion's entrance, past little alcoves that were currently abandoned, but obviously romantic in the right setting. The front garden as a whole was, while not ugly, more evocative of privacy than beauty, in contrast to the thick mahogany of the front door, which enticed people inwards. Another guard checked their invitation before the large doors swung open, leading into a dark hallway, flanked by small alcoves with classical statues in them of the clothless variety. The statues were well-lit pools of light within the darkness, giving the interior an ominous feeling as shadows shifted in front of them. Through half-open doors, she could see people wearing black or red, entertaining themselves with drinks and other, more carnal, diversions. Or perhaps carnivorous would be a better word to use her.
"So, what are these parties like?" Revel asked.
"I've never been to one, but we'll be announced, followed by some time to mingle, after which we'll have the official ceremony, probably with some sarcastic gift-giving."
"Well, I'm guessing you'll have that part handled then," Revel noted as the two of them entered the courtyard of the estate. Flanked by large, dense trees, with solid steel fences in between them to keep out intruders, the party was lit by glowing orbs of flame, held aloft on steel tripods. In the center of the garden was a large dais, with a single throne-like chair raised above an area that seemed to hold ritual significance. People, teenagers really, clad in cheap goth costumes roamed around, drinking too much and covering too little, while among them stalked others wearing red, moving from group to group the same way Myrddin moved between snack tables at Protectorate events.
As she observed the events, so were they in turn observed the guests that were present. Heads turned, fangs bared once they noticed the two intruders dressed as a parody of what they were. After a few seconds, the silence was broken by a servant, in old-fashioned dress.
"Ladies and gentlemen of the Court, I am pleased to present Harry Dresden, Wizard of the White Council, and guest."
***Of Monsters and Masquerades***
I took Revel by the arm, pulling her out of the spotlight, to a place where we wouldn't catch as much attention. It wouldn't do to start trusting vampires now, especially not after our silly costumes had taken their attention. Hopefully, they would think we were only there to taunt them. Moving between plants, trying not to look at Bianca, who was lording over the proceedings in a dress that was, simply put, incredibly hot, I opened my senses. Not entirely, but enough to get an impression of the area. Hunger, joy of wild abandon, and power filled the air. I focussed in on the last of those three, and tried to distinguish between the terrible things I could feel. Flames and Darkness, blood and love, and beneath that… Yes, Kravos was hiding nearby, just out of sight.
"So, you have any idea where they'd keep their prisoners?" Revel whispered as we walked between groups of people, never close enough for anyone to overhear, as long as they didn't have, like, super-hearing or something ridiculous like that."
"Probably in the basement, due to the lack of towers," I replied. "I can feel something down there, something big, I think It's Kravos."
"They have him guarding the prisoner?"
"Could be," I replied. "Her power is hard to keep in check, so they'd want a specialized guard."
"If so… I wonder… we didn't find any connections between Kravos and these people back when we arrested him, so why is he here?"
"Likes a good party?" I asked
"You get what I mean," Revel said, fake-sipping on a goblet of poisoned blood. "Problem is, we don't know enough about the politics at play here. Who are most these people anyway?"
"Representatives of the other magical nations and such, as well as other players within the Red Court," I replied, trying to place all the people around me. The Star Wars cosplayers were obviously White Court, given the fact that the taller man managed to not look entirely ridiculous in what seemed to be exclusively golden body paint. The Roman soldier with the snake on his shield? I had no idea who he could be. Then there was a figure dressed up like someone from a Shakespearean stage-play, clad in pale white cloth with black stripes on it.
"So, mingling first, right?" Revel asked. "Let's go talk to some people."
"Talk, yes. People, probably not."
Revel took the lead, moving between tightly clustered groups of people and vampires with a grace that is only really seen in those who can fly, but keep about ten percent of their weight on the floor out of pity for the rest of us, moving towards the Roman soldier, who was blowing out smoke and holding a cigarette, managing to look down on everyone present even when they were theoretically taller than him.
"Hello, nice to meet you, I'm Revel," she stated, holding out a hand to the man, who seemed slightly surprised as another cloud of smoke escaped his mouth.
"I highly doubt that," he replied, then turned away from her without shaking her hand, towards me. "Nevertheless, you may call me Mister Ferro. And you are?"
"Harry Dresden," I said. "And I have to say, that's a pretty neat costume."
"I can't say the same about yours, Harry Dresden," the man said, slowly, thoughtfully enunciating every syllable in a precise manner, a strange tongue moving between sharp teeth. I felt it, his attention, his strength, the ancient, ceaseless years behind his eyes. It struck me like a sledgehammer, the way this creature—that had seen civilizations rise and fall—spoke my name.
I stumbled, and Revel caught my shoulder as she observed him. Something within me strained. The parasite, reacting to the presence of something new, trying and failing to do whatever it tried to do. I wondered… would it hold against the thing in front of me? Or would it crumble like I had?
"Hmm, let me guess for a moment," Revel said, planting her arm firmly under mine, abusing the size difference. "I'll say… you're much more impressive than the one in Canada."
"And you, at least, managed to keep your outfit consistent to a single time-period," the man, whatever he was, remarked to Revel as I gathered my strength and stood up again.
"Hell's Bells, how did you do that?" I asked.
"You wouldn't understand," he replied with a smirk, taking the unlit cigarette out of his mouth and blowing a small cloud of smoke into my face.
"Please forgive my subordinate's disrespect," Revel said, glaring at me from the corner of her eyes. "I would have placed him with the Wards so he could be with people of equal maturity, but regulations got in the way."
"Typical humans," Mister Ferro huffed and puffed. "So, Revel…"
Revel blinked, not as stricken as I had been, but she'd obviously noticed something more than just the strange focus on the word itself. She shook her hand, letting down an armband she'd been wearing until the little crystal charm in it fell into her fingers, then looking back at the man, or rather Dragon, in front of us.
"Would you like to try that again?" she said in a dulcet tone, fingers flexing.
"No, that was enough experimentation for today," Ferro said, a pleased smirk on his face. "I do wonder… The Lady of Newfoundland, could you, as the youngsters say these days… give me her number?"
"I can give you her e-mail, if you know how to use it," Revel said, drawing her wallet and taking one of the cards she used to hand out signatures.
"That will suffice," Ferro said, accepting the small piece of paper, then disappearing it into an invisible pocket behind his back.
"So, I was wondering, what is someone like you doing in a backwater like this?" Revel then asked.
"The Red Court still knows how to give gifts, and I am… interested, in Bianca's work," he replied, stepping back.
"Well, nice talking to you," I said, pulling Revel away, then whispering to her as we made some distance. "Hell's Bells Annabelle, you can't just walk up and talk to these people, they're dangerous!"
"Yes, I noticed how he took you down with two words," she replied. "What was that about anyway?"
"Name stuff, it's complicated, and I have no idea how he did it with you," I replied, hating myself. I shouldn't have brought Revel into danger with me. Sure, she was technically my boss, but she knew near to nothing about the supernatural world, and was basically defenseless against half the threats here.
"Well, at least we know he's probably not responsible," Revel said with her head turned to me as she walked back into the party proper, promptly crashing into the gold-painted piece of manhunk we'd spotted before.
"Well, hello there," the rather handsome predator said, smiling a perfect white smile with perfect predator teeth as he held out an arm to keep an utterly bewitched Revel away from him.
"Vampire Kenobi," I replied. "You are a bold one."