The Reaper collapsed in on itself in a dense cloud of black ichor.

Edgar Kelpheart lowered his sword, wiping the mess off his cheeks with his sleeve. It smeared on the leather, eating it away, but he ignored the faint burning sensation; he was sure his parabatai was hot on his heels. His seraph blade cast flickering shadows in the alleyway as he moved to sheath it, burning with the same cold blue light as a torch with new batteries. There was the sound of footsteps pounding on the concrete – boots slapping on the hard surface – and then a short boy dressed entirely in black leather careered straight into the alleyway, nearly running into Edgar.

"Edgar? Is that ichor?" He managed to stop himself in time, and he pulled a small metal rod – a stylograph – from his black belt. "Where'd the Reaper go?"

Edgar pulled his burning sleeve up past his elbow. The boy started to draw on his forearm with the strange metal instrument, leaving darkly inked swirls in its wake. Tangled blond hair fell in his eyes, the colour of custard in the light of Edgar's seraph blade. When he was finished, the boy straightened up, brushing his messy hair out of his eyes.

Edgar raised a sarcastic eyebrow. He sheathed the seraph blade, plunging the alleyway into darkness. "What do you think? It's dead, Noah." The healing rune Noah had drawn was taking effect, dousing the stinging where ichor was still on his skin. "Did you and Lee find anything?"

They walked out onto the street, and were immediately bathed in the soft tangerine glow of streetlights. It was only a few streets before you hit the seafront, so there was the cawing of seagulls and the smell of salt as they made their way through the maze of alleys. "There's this dead fairy kid, and Lee was checking the scene and stuff." Noah pulled a stone the size of a wave-worn pebble from his pocket as they headed into another dark alleyway. It burst into light, brighter than Edgar's blade had been. Another bright light twinkled further down the alley, and Lee came into view – tall and lean, his hair was a halo of wheat stalks around his pale face. Another pale figure was laid out at his feet, scarlet blood dampening every nook and cranny of the cracked ground from the wound in its chest.

The two of them edged closer to the thin body, peering down at it. It was a boy, only a few years younger than them, with hair paler than Lee's – practically white – that curled at his temple as Cupid's would. Elven ears poked through his curls, and his cheek was smeared with rust-coloured blood. "Fey," Edgar whispered as he knelt down to inspect the boy's wound. The flesh at the edges was burnt like paper plunged into a fire, and that could only mean one thing –

"Made by a seraph blade," said Lee, and he held out a thin piece of parchment to the two of them. His fingers were wet with the fairy's blood.

Noah took it, his eyes darting along the single line before he handed it to Edgar. "Nameless here for evermore? What on Earth does that mean?" Edgar glanced at the note – the handwriting was curly, flicking up at the end of each word and adding unnecessary swirls, reminding Edgar of the pictures he'd seen of Elizabeth I's signature. It seemed oddly familiar.

"It's a quote from Poe," said Lee. He slipped his own glowing stone into his pocket, so they could only see by the light of Noah's.

Noah looked up, confused. "Poe as in the ghosts? But why –"

"Not ghosts, Noah," said Lee, rolling his two-coloured eyes – one was as dark as mahogany wood; the other reminding Edgar of the green forests they trained in occasionally. "Poe as in the poet. Edgar Allan Poe. I can't remember which poem, but it's definitely his. As for what it means, who knows? It's almost certainly a demonhunter's work, though."

Edgar nodded, straightening up as he tucked the note into his pocket. "If Giles wasn't in London then I'd swear it was him, the prick. He hates other paranormals, you know that."

"Especially fairies," Noah interjected, hand held aloft with his glowing stone. "One kicked his arse once and I don't think he's gotten over it yet." He frowned, shifting the glowing stone to his other hand. The light flickered. "Look, are we going to hang around here all night? We need to report this. Marcus –"

Edgar snorted. "Marcus is an idiot. He won't know what to do." The other two didn't contest it. They paused for a moment, listening to the sounds of the humdrum world – car engines growling, drunken yells, music drifting down the street from a club...

Lee cleared his throat. "Noah's right. We need to get back. Whoever killed this poor sod is probably still knocking around somewhere, and we don't want to meet them. That's for idiots like Marcus to do." Edgar nodded, and he pushed himself to his feet. He could feel the glamour rune on the back of his neck burning into nothingness, and he guessed the others could feel the same – Noah rubbed his forearm before pulling out his stylograph and scribbling a new rune onto his hand, and Lee slid his own stylograph from his belt. He motioned for Edgar to turn around, and he quickly sketched two runes onto the back of his neck. Edgar took a deep breath; his parabatai's runes were always that bit stronger than anybody else's, so it was worth the gentle sting of the stylograph on his skin. He took the instrument from Lee, and he only took a moment to draw the curly invisibility rune onto Lee's arm. Now they couldn't be seen by humdrums, even if they did look a bit like ninjas.

When the two of them turned back to Noah, they found him emptying his pockets, looking for spare change – he'd found his iPod and a couple of sticks of chewing gum, but nothing more substantial than a twenty pence piece. "What are you doing?" Edgar said, his eyebrows raised, half in curiosity, half in amusement. Noah sighed, shoving his things back in his pockets.

"Well, I didn't fancy walking back, but we haven't got the money for the bus, so –"

"Eiderdown, we're invisible," said Edgar, while Lee started off down the alley. "They won't see us sneak on. We don't have to pay." He rolled his eyes. Noah pulled his phone out of his other pocket, glowing up the alleyway, and he typed out a quick text before blindly following Lee. Edgar followed behind him. "Who're you texting?"

Noah slowed down to walk in step with him. "Emmy. She and Joy'll want to hear about this."

The alley opened up into the street. Though nobody could see them, the passersby unconsciously avoided them – stooping to pick up dropped items, crossing the road to avoid a seedy-looking bar, stepping aside so they wouldn't have to step in a puddle. Edgar had to admire the power that runes had. The three of them sidled up to the nearest bus stop, where a pink-haired girl stood alone, fiddling with her phone. She glanced over when they stopped beside her, and she grinned – Edgar caught sight of elongated canines glistening in her mouth – before returning to her game of Angry Birds. A vampire – of course, only paranormals could see through the power of runes. Edgar glanced over at his friends – Noah was quickly texting Emmy back, but Lee met his eye, an amused smile on his lips. The vampire was looking at him out of the corner of her eye, but Edgar knew she was wasting her time – Lee didn't date, and he especially didn't date random vampires in bus queues. He smirked at his parabatai before pulling out his own iPod and attempting to untangle his earphones.