Rising from the crouch that she had landed in on the outside of the garden wall, she withdrew her athame. Turning around, she carved the same symbol from earlier, into the stonework. A flash of white light and crumbling brick, and she was back in Skelway avoiding souls and picturing a back alley near to the nightclub, Labyrinth. The storm was but a blur as she touched the alley wall, falling into the darkness. With a jolt and the tang of sour city air, she stood in the alleyway.

The rough gasp of another from behind her, drew her gaze and she realised that the veil must have dropped early.

A man stood frozen as he stared without blinking. "Where did you come from?" His expression, an interesting mix of shock and suspicion (which she knew shouldn't have amused her as thoroughly as it did) watched her intently.

Masking her smile, she raised her eyebrows feigning surprise, yet her eyes held a light but wicked challenge. "Should you not already know, especially since I saw you watching me as I entered the alley from around the corner."

He looked past her towards the corner in question, frowning in scepticism. "I don't remember that... I thought I'd been alone, and then you suddenly appeared."

"Are you suggesting that I simply appeared from thin air?" As she spoke, there was a small part of her that was uneasy with her own mocking amusement of him, but a larger part revelled in the humour. She glanced back at him, realising that he only looked to be about eighteen or nineteen, his lanky build needing to fill out.

He caught her gaze, his intelligent eyes showing doubt and confusion as his eyebrows pinched together. "No, I guess I must have been distracted." But even as he said it, she could tell that he didn't really believe it. His eyes squinted as he raised an eyebrow and looked at her as though he was going to say something else, but another called out to him, causing him to turn away.

When he looked back, Silver was already a fair distance away, heading towards the end of the alleyway. Stopping just before she reached the main thoroughfare, she withdrew the small bag with her heels in. As soon as she pulled on the drawstrings, the bag grew in size.

A few moments later and after a test of her balance, having changed her shoes, she buckled the fine straps of her platform stilettos. Drifting out into the street, she joined the rest of the bodies milling through the town. The nightclub, Labyrinth, was just across the street, where a long line was snaking leisurely along the length of the road. Skimming the entrance with her gaze, she found the members' door to the left. Odile had said to enter from there, and that all that she had to do was to give her name.

Ignoring the disapproving stares the closer she came, of those who had given her the once over and found her lacking, she lazily raised her chin and came to a halt before the doorman. "Silver West," she said, holding his gaze with an air of challenge along with her I.D.

The doorman having stared back at her with an unflinching gaze carefully looked her over. "You realise that there's a strict dress code here?"

Assuming a mock serious gaze, she opened her eyes wide. "Clearly... that's why i've changed my shoes." She looked down, as though he should be impressed.

Following her gaze, he surveyed her shoes, his lips twitching before he looked back at his tablet, checking for her name. While waiting, Silver let her eyes wander to those who were still waiting in line. The array of bodies, a blend of glistening skin, flowing hair and designer fabrics, a mixed mosaic.

Turning back, she was just in time to see the doorman raise his head. "Silver West, this way." Opening the red ropes, he stepped back to make way for her, his gaze nothing but professional, which she appreciated. As she drew level, she half-turned towards him, her expression composed, "thank you," she said. A flicker of surprise breezed across his broad features as he gave the barest of nods. Leaving him to his duty, she stepped down into the first of many lounges at Labyrinth.

The nightclub was known for being both enormous and hive-like. She had only been once before, and that had been with Freya. It had turned into an interesting evening to say the least. A look of dark humour flashed across her features under the half-lights of the lounge. Looking around, she remembered that she still had one more thing to do, although she knew that here was hardly the ideal place. After a few more moments, she found a booth right at the back, furthest away from the bar and not too close to the others.

Walking over with a steely stare, she narrowed her eyes at anyone who dared to deliberately stand in her way, even when their derision for her was clear. Sliding down, she seated herself facing the wall, her back to all else. Carefully taking out one of the glass vials from her bag, she settled some papers on the seat beside her.

She was about to uncork the vial, when she felt some-one's gaze on her. Sliding around, she found a familiar server coming to a stop before her, holding a bottle of sambuca. Her displeasure and suspicion spiked when she recognised him from the alleyway outside, from mere minutes before.

With her focus on him, he poured out a shot, offering the small glass to her. "Courtesy of Odile." He gave no hint of recognising her, and his sudden control over his expression was far too good. Her eyes narrowed even further at the thought of him reporting her arrival, especially as she didn't believe in coincidences. Her eyes flicked back to the drink, not wishing to drink anything gifted by another, but she could not refuse Odile.

The likelihood was strong that she was still being watched, and that her refusal would be seen as an insult. After thinking for a moment, she reached forward and took the glass, settling it on the table, before looking him in the eyes. "Drinking alone is a poor tradition... so please." At her words, she raised the glass again and offered it to him.

The look of shock in his eyes was plain to see, if only for a moment. Saying nothing else, she waited. She knew that as a guest of an influential customer such as Odile, he would be unable to refuse her, even more so if he was playing a part, which she strongly suspected. His freckled nose twitched as he ran a hand through his short red hair. He stared at her as though trying to compel her to tell him the reason for her request. Yet she simply smiled back at him with a defiant kind of amusement, which was more for the spy watching her than for him.

Obviously deciding that he could not refuse her, he carefully took the glass from her. Wasting no time, he swallowed the shot with an air of confidence that came from experience, placing the shot glass back down onto the table. As a warm flush blazed across his pale cheeks, Silver indicated the glass. "If you would." With practised grace he poured out another shot, his long slender fingers grasping the bottle tightly, giving away his tenseness.

Picking up the shot glass and raising her eyes, she met the server's gaze. "Here's to you," she said. Knocking the drink back in one go, she savoured the aniseed flavour as she handed him the glass. Leaning back, she caught him studying her once again, but chose to ignore it, her voice was cool as she spoke. "Thank you." Not waiting for his reaction, she slowly turned away and after a moment of hesitation sensed him walk away as well.

Returning to her papers, she grasped the vial from before and uncorked the top. Bringing it to her lips, she swallowed, feeling as the ice-cold liquid poured down her throat in a powerful torrent. Closing her eyes, she cast aside all but her memories, flickering like short flashbacks. Soon, images of the scientist's dark home and her time there appeared. Holding the memory in her mind, the images of the scripts and notes flared with light, and then she felt the cool flow of words pouring from her and onto the blank papers that she now visualised.

Opening her eyes, she subtly glanced around her, but nothing but the toxicity of glazed eyes and bold moods greeted her. Looking back down, her papers held a dull glow filled with purple script. Taking a pen, she quickly wrote the word 'decadent' and watched as the writing and purple ink instantly disappeared. Gently arching her neck to rid herself of the aching tension that plagued her, she carefully rolled up the papers, securing them with a crimson ribbon and sliding them into her bag.

As her haze of concentration faded, she heard the bass pulse on the other side of the far doors. Standing, she wove her way through the intersecting sofas and curving booths. The buzz of conversation merging with the vivacity and adrenaline of the night. Reaching the doors that led onto the dance-floor and into the private lounges, she left the current lounge of black and white behind.

Heaving crowds closed in around her, as the deep reds and contrasting black floors glistened under the attention of white lamps. Undeterred by those around her, she made her way over to a side balcony. She stared out over the sunken dance-floor, and across to the staircases leading off of the raised platform that circled the outer edges.

Moving around to the right, she made her way to the fourth staircase, labelled with Roman numerals. She didn't miss the raised eyebrows or the curious looks, no doubt wondering how she had managed to get inside in such casual attire. Unhurriedly climbing the stairs, she stopped in-front of yet another doorman. She was beginning to feel that she saw more of them than anyone else. She leant closer and said, "Silver West." Watching as he immediately checked the list. Meanwhile, she took out her I.D. just as he held out his hand.

As he took her I.D. she internally rolled her eyes in irritation at having to meet Odile there. It was one of the reasons why she preferred to meet in wine bars. Bringing her back out of her thoughts, was the doorman handing back her I.D. and holding open the door for her, as she headed on past him.

Thank you for reading <3
(Word count 1805)