Despite insisting on taking us there myself, Leopold had Robert drive us to the party in his own car. Alfie marvelled at it as we entered, rambling on about the manufacturing date, and the fine finish. It was nice enough, pristine in condition, but lacked the comfort my own vehicle held. The scowl I gave Leopold when he mentioned how my own car would give a bad impression was deadly.

Robert drove, while Leopold sat beside the twins in the middle seat, Alex joining me in the back of the seven-seater.

He frowned at my bulky purse I fought to close. "We're not actually going to a party. What could you possibly need to bring?"
I shrugged. "Lady things, you know? The usual: lipstick, perfume, foldable crossbow..."
Florence gawked. "You didn't?!" I grinned and showed her, getting a giggle in return. "Amazing."

Leopold stretched over the back of his seat. "You're bringing a weapon to The Collector's house? Are you trying to get us killed?"
His eyes lit up in anger that I met with a cold glare. "Do you think I'm going into The Collector's house unarmed?"
"If he sees that weapon..."
"If he catches us trying to rob him, a weapon would be useful," I argued. "How many crossbows do you know of that can fold into a purse? He won't suspect it."
A pause. "Leave it in the car."
I snorted. "No chance. This stays with me."

For a while, Leopold held his silence, sitting with his legs crossed and staring at his shiny shoes. Even when Alfie began discussing poker tactics with Alex, the gambler himself did not join in. It was unusual. From what Alex told me on our way to his manor, Tommy had described Leopold as quite a loudmouth. Reckless, yes, but fun-loving and talkative. He chatted when we entered his manor for the first time – what changed?

I had to get him talking. Even if the only reason for it was to ease my thoughts. "Tell me more about Kate," I said.
He didn't expect me to speak to him directly. He looked up with an open mouth and blank eyes. "Kate?"
"The cult leader. Who is she? What motivates her?"
"Kate, she's..." He shuddered, decades of memories crossing his dull eyes. "She's determined."
"I gathered when she started abductions," said Alex.

Leopold went on. "From what I heard, she was an orphan. Her parents were killed by demons and her sister by a vampire. She grew up in the care of her coven leader, Elric, and became a talented witch. A warped one, I guess."
"Warped?" Florence echoed.
Robert looked at us through the rear-view mirror. "Kate's family was destroyed by the supernatural. She hates them. Even before we discovered she founded a cult, she was fanatical."
"How so?"
"She hated demons, as hunters do, but not only them. She started waving around accusations that the vampires were flouncing Treaty guidelines, calling the werewolves mongrels and such. When she started saying the Treaty should be abolished altogether and called for the re-arranging of the Witches' Court, she was urged to distance herself from politics, being labelled an anarchist."
"But why raise a Witch Queen?"
"The witches have not always had the five-coven system they do now. They once had a monarchy, and the rulers of the Court were powerful. No-one knows how she did it, but this particular queen held significant power — so much that all records of her were erased after the monarchy's abolition in favour of democracy."
"But what does she want? How will she help Kate?"
"Allegedly, the queen herself believed witches to be above all other species. She sought to cleanse the earth of supernatural corruption, leaving only those with magic able to survive. With her power, she could rip holes in the veil, letting out all manners of demons to destroy them."
"Is that not a good thing?" Florence asked. "Demons are awful. The world would be better without them."
"There's a reason you hunters guard the veil rather than battling it, girl," Leopold hissed. "Ripping through the veil is like bashing open a pipe to fix a leak. You'd let everything out in an uncontrollable flash flood. Every demon of fury, every vengeful ghoul, every shred of magic from wherever we go when we die, and whatever the hell is left over. Imagine a world in which every enemy of anyone to have ever lived returns from the dead with immortality? Your own home would become a battlefield."
"And only witches have the power to contain it," I finished. Witches would die, but they could shield themselves — even if they were more vulnerable to corruption, they had their magic to keep them distanced from any battles, and their 'home' had the strongest wards. Even Oblivion's Watch relied on the witches' cooperation to remain protected. Without their magic, we were exposed.
"And humans?" Florence asked.
Alex and I shared a look. "They would be caught in the crossfire," Leopold answered. "Humanity would not survive a purge of two worlds. It's of no disappointment to the witch-queen, I can be sure of that."

I could imagine it: witches summoning and banishing demons like it was an everyday chore. The treaty they signed stated they were banned from summonings but the Witch-Queen would change things. If all witches broke from the pact with other supernatural beings, the hunters would be forced to intervene. We could protect humanity as best we could but it was likely we would fail. An army of witches was too strong even for the most highly trained humans to fight back. The only ones to perhaps stand a chance, minus the witches, were the vampires.

Florence gasped. "This really is serious, isn't it?"
Robert dipped his head. "This is more serious than you can imagine, Miss."
I leaned forward to view Robert in the driver's seat. "And what of the Witch-Queen? Why does she hate the other supernaturals so much? Is it simply just for power?"
"I am afraid I cannot answer that, Miss Lupine."

It was stupid to even ask. If the queen was as old as was suggested, she was a legend to all — even the witches themselves. It was likely they did not know her motivations, either.

I thanked Robert and rested back in my seat. The leather crunched beneath my back and I slouched.

"What kind of party is this, anyway?" asked Florence, evidently keen to change the subject.
"It involves a lot of heavy gambling," said Leopold. "What do you expect?"
She shrugged. "I've been eighteen for a month. I haven't been to anything other than a house party."
Leopold snorted. "Then you're in for a shock, princess. Because this? This is no ordinary 'house party.'"

He pointed out the window behind him without even turning. Atop the hill Robert was guiding us up was a house far larger than Leopold's. A grand spectacle, with three towering floors of exploding light and booming music that could be heard through even the bulletproof glass windows of Leopold's car, even at the considerable distance between us and it. It was a flashy fortress, disguised by eclectic lights and cordial crowds dancing around the grounds in manic movements. Within there was our artefact.

Within there was the key to saving our families and all those caught in the Witch-Queen's line of fire.

***

The twins used my back as a shield as we approached the stairs of the manor. Feral sounds of music, thumping and cheering broke through temple-like walls, escalating with every step we took. Florence peaked over my shoulder.
"That looks... crazy."
"I've seen worse," said Leopold, leading us up the drive. "The bridge between humanity and the hidden world is a wild one."
"What do you mean by the bridge?" said Florence.
"A lot of supernaturals, mainly witches and werewolves, will break apart from their duties for a few years of freedom," I explained. "They find that freedom with humans. They are the most free species."
"And humans go to the supernaturals for a wild time," added Alex.
Alfie frowned. "And the vampires? You never mentioned them."
Alex shuddered. "Vampires are beasts from the moment they're turned."
"Most vampires don't see spending time with humans as 'freeing' unless they're feeding from them," I clarified. "Their rules are slack anyway, and only exist to protect humans. Why risk breaking them when they can easily have fun among their own kind without any risk?"

Florence paled and glanced at the floor. For her lack of actual knowledge on the supernatural, the teenager was fascinated with the other species, spending more time reading and watching fiction rather than analysing the journals her brother couldn't get enough of.

We reached the top of the steps and I took a breath as Leopold gestured for me to step inside. When I grabbed the door handle, Alfie's breathing grew heavy behind me.

"Alfie, you okay?" said Alex.
He wiped his glasses. Even with his fancy suit, he looked like a teenager, whereas his sister passed for an adult easily with her makeup and styled hair. "The only house parties I went to in school were awful and this looks..." His eyes followed the three floors of madness before us and he gulped. "I don't know what to expect."
I put my hand on his shoulder. "Alf..."
Alex shot him a smile. "Don't think about it and you'll do just fine. Stick by me if you'd like."
"But the poker game, I—" His feet cemented to the ground. "Oh god, I can't do this."
"Alfie, just take a breath and—"
"I can't do it, Erika! I'm panicking too much. I won't be able to bluff. I won't be able to read the cards I—!"
"Hey!"

Florence shoved past me and held her brother by the shoulders. I opened my mouth to tell her to lay off him – he didn't need criticism in his fragile state of mind – but she only held onto him, staring into his matching green eyes, giving him confidence.

"Look at me. You can do this. I know you can. Just breathe like mum tells you to. One. Two. Three. Four..."

He shut his eyes and took a long inhale... and exhale.
Flo smiled. "You good?"
He nodded. His breathing was fast but slowing. "Yeah... yeah, I'm good. I will be."
"Do you want us to wait outside for a few minutes?" I asked. Leopold's eyes widened.
"No! We need to—"
"Wait for Alfie," I growled. "Go in if you want but the four of us are waiting here."

He gawked but my scowl did not shift. This was my family. We weren't in a rush tonight. We would get the artefact either way.

"Bloody kids." He waved us off and stormed through the house, slamming the door behind him to muffle the music.

The four of us sat on the steps in silence for a few minutes. It was not uncomfortable, nor did anyone show any visible desire to leave, perfectly contempt in waiting for him. Alfie could take as long as he needed to feel ready to go inside. We would not rush him, even if we were keen to get our families back.

He was the first to stand. "Okay," he said, looking at me directly. "I'm ready."
I smiled. "Good."

The front doors opened to an explosion of wild extravagance I hadn't witnessed in years. The entrance hall was an ocean of party guests dressed in their best and, some of them, in what I hoped was their worst. The lights dimmed in the outstretched living room then snapped into a spectrum of cyan and magenta that struck the swaying bodies of the dancers.

Alex leaned in close to my ear and yelled, "I wonder where this poker game is."

The room was far too dark to spot Leopold or Robert in the crowd and, if I was honest, I couldn't imagine either of them dancing with the rest of this particular group. Robert, in particular. More light came from an ajar door at the opposite end of the room.

"It's too dark to tell. We should go over there."

I took Flo's hand and waded through the crowd. A few party-goers stopped to smile or open their mouths to chat over the music but I pushed on with a hardened face, muttering 'excuse me' to anyone that could hear.

The room we arrived at was the bar and, to no shock from myself, Leopold was propped up on a stool with a whiskey in hand. Robert shadowed him.

"Took you long enough," he tutted.
"You never told us how to find you."
"You don't know your way around the house anyway." He swirled his whiskey in the short glass. "It would have made no difference."
"What about the poker game? Where will that be?" Flo pitched in.
Leopold snorted. "You should all have a drink first."

I recalled the last time he offered me a drink and scowled.

"Oh, come on! Don't look so sour. We're at a party!" He whined, almost laughing at me.
"An important one," I reminded him. "We need clear heads."
"What's one drink gonna do? Your dad drinks sometimes, doesn't he?"
Alex nudged me. "He's right, Erika. We'll blend in more if we have a drink, anyway."

We needed to mesh with the crowds. Everyone there was near drunk or far beyond it. It was easier to pretend to be one of them if I at least had one drink to loosen up the tension.

"Fine. Just one."
"Same here," said Alex.

With a simple gesture to the barmaid, Leopold was handed a pair of flute glasses filled to the top with bubbling champagne, passing them to us with urgency.
Alex shrugged. "Cheers, I guess."
I tapped his glass. "Cheers."
"And the twins?" Leopold said.
"I'll have one!" Florence beamed.
"I'm fine," Alfie replied. "I don't drink much anyway."

He offered Florence a drink of her own that she downed in just two mouthfuls. I rolled my eyes.

A single sip was all I took of my own. It was a courtesy, nothing more. "What about the poker room? Where is it?"
Leopold rolled his eyes. "Can't you just sit down for one minute?"
"When my dad is found and the witches are dealt with, I will sit down. For now, talk."
He held up his hands. "Alright, alright! It's out the back. I'll show you."

We entered the realm of bright lights and feral dancers once more, crossing the room to exit the building out the back. The glass patio doors led to a whole other world within the party. Green grounds, in which guests dispersed, stretched far, its edges brushed with rose bushes and trees. It appeared open and freeing, and the other guests were enjoying it. One had even stripped and was running naked towards the trees.

It was 8 o' clock.

What caught my eye as we walked across the grass, however, was the nine foot fence surrounding the grounds, painted in white and topped with curling barbed wire, hiding behind the greenery. I suddenly felt more trapped than liberated with the drink in my hand.

Robert must have been watching me stare. "The Collector's possessions are of significant value. Security is his topmost priority."
"And yet he invites hundreds of strangers to his home," I retorted.
Leopold shrugged. "He's a gambler. What do you expect?"

More caution. When we got that artefact, it would never leave my sight until the witches were stopped. An experienced collector should know better than to allow hundreds near his precious items.

The poker room was separate from the house, kept in a large hexagonal conservatory. Gamblers stared as we walked in. We were too young to be there, even if some were the same age as Alex and I. We looked young. Naïve and new to the trade. So new, in fact, that I had no idea how to play it. I was relying entirely on Alfie's skill and the guidance of Alex and Leopold. My only use was to acquire the artefact discretely if Alfie failed.

It was then that I realised just how bad of a plan this was, and started to feel sick.

Alfie was paling as we approached the table but, as Leopold paid to deal him in, took a deep breath and stretched out his fingers.
"I've got this. I've got this. I've got this."

"Leopold Hopkins, is that you?"

Leopold stiffened. His face twisted then contorted into a sickening smile as the rest of us spun around to find the source of the voice. "Mr. Collector, sir! Nice to see you again."
"Wish I could say the same." The Collector flashed us a smile that made Florence and I blush. "And who might these be?"

The Collector was not who I expected him to be. In my imagination, he was an elderly man with dulling eyes and a chilling voice, clad in pinstripe suits with a cane always in hand to show off his wealth as well as to warn people off. The Collector himself was far younger, perhaps early-to-mid-thirties, and much more attractive with his groomed golden hair, gentle tan and pearly, perfect smile. He wore black and white tuxedos instead of the trashy pinstripes I pictured, and clutched a dry martini rather than a cane.

"This here, is Alfie Mullein," said Leopold. "He's entering the poker game."
The Collector snorted. "Good luck, son. This is high stakes, you know?"
He nodded. "I know."
"Well then." He took a sip of his martini. "I wish you well. And what of you, darling?"
His blue eyes twinkled in my direction and I had to swallow. I was not the type of woman to flinch at the sight of an attractive man, but his stare was intimidating. "Erika."
"Erika...?"
Leopold nodded for me to answer. "Erika Lupine," I added.
The Collector threw his head back and whistled a laugh. "Lupine? That's a big hunter name. How does it feel carrying that weight around?"
I shrugged. "I can manage."
Another flash of white. "I'm sure you can." His fingers drummed the rim of his now empty glass. "You know, a hunter like you would appreciate some of the artefacts I have on show upstairs."
Horizon's Edge. "Like?"
"Like a range. I have a lot I'd love to show you, if you'd be interested in a private tour."
Diana's voice chanted in my head to play along. There was an opportunity here that I would be a fool to waste. "Tonight?"
"If that's what you wish."
I smiled. "I'd like that."

Alex grimaced while Florence's eyes almost popped from her skull. I would tell them later what I was doing but, for now, I hoped they would keep their mouths shut.

Leopold coughed. "And this is Alex Arwood and Florence Mullein."
"A pleasure." He shot them a smile. Florence turned peach while Alex forced every muscle possible to smile back. "It's been a delight to see you, Leopold but—who is that?"
Robert blinked as if only now tuning into the conversation. I had a feeling he was listening anyway, despite his faraway look. "I am Robert, sir."
"You're too old to be in this group. Even for Leopold. Who are you?"
"My butler," Leopold croaked. The Collector cackled.
"A butler?! Can you not wipe your own arse anymore?"

I raised my brows and shared a nervous glance with Florence, who bit her lip. She was trying not to laugh at Leopold's expense. If someone disrespected me the way The Collector was addressing Leopold, they would find themselves on the ground with their ego a few notches smaller. But Leopold – the rich, ex-hunter who made a name for himself in England's capital – did nothing.

"It's nice to have some help at the manor," he replied. "You have your own, right?"
"I do."
"See. It's perfectly normal."
"But I bet you don't need the help, do you?" He swaggered towards Leopold and leaned in close. His lips brushed over his ear and he spoke in a whisper. "You just don't want to feel alone, right? All that money and not a single person to share it with so you pay someone to be your friend."

I almost felt sorry for the man. The two had evidently met before and I found myself curious at what went wrong with the two of them.

Leopold stuttered. "That's not what I—"
"You can argue all you want, Mr. Hopkins. I know what you are. You're a loner. A nobody in a world of somebodies." He leaned back and held out his arms. "You don't belong here and you know it. This is a whole new world – a way of life people are born into."

He glanced at his empty glass. "I should get a drink but I'll catch you later, Erika." He shot Alfie a wink. "See you at the game, little Mullein."

Once he was out of earshot, Alfie hissed. "What a dick."
"Yeah, Erika. What was that about?" said Florence. "'I have a lot to show you.' 'Oh, I'd like that!' What's going on?"
"He's at least ten years older than you. And way too slick." Alex shook his head, clenching his jaw. "He's shady! Why would you—?!"
"Chill out! Both of you."

Over their shoulders, a bouncer was watching me. I gestured for the group to come closer. "I saw an opportunity and I took it. If Alfie fails at getting this artefact, I may be able to get it instead."
"What?" spat Leopold. "You can't steal from—!"
"Shh! Do you want to get us thrown out?" I snapped.
"Oh, he won't just throw us out," said Leopold. "He'll shut us in the house till we're begging to leave. One way or another."
Florence blinked. "That wasn't ominous at all." Alfie snorted, but the frustration still flickered in his eyes.
"That's a risky game," he warned. "You – alone with him – is dangerous. We won't be able to get to you if you need help."
"I've managed just fine without you for years, Alex. I'll cope."
Alex chewed his lip. "Wow. Ouch."

"Erika's right," said Alfie. "Even if she doesn't get the artefact, she can find where the dagger is and we can work from there. Having a back-up plan couldn't hurt."
"Thank you!" I said through an exasperated sigh.
"Just be careful," said Leopold. "He may look charming, but The Collector will skin us alive if he catches us disrespecting him in his own home."
"I will."

Glasses clinked and the chatter and music quietened down. The Collector was standing over the poker table, a fresh martini in hand. "If you haven't paid yet, you've lost your chance. All players, take your seats."

Alfie's glasses fogged. In school, he was an outcast. Most of his time was spent reading, studying and playing video games by himself. This was maybe the most social situation he had ever been thrust into and he was scared. His hands trembled and sweat beaded down his forehead. These people were older, more experienced and far more informed on one another. They knew each others strengths and weaknesses but nothing on the eighteen-year-old teenager making his debut at the poker table with experts as opponents.

He may have been eighteen. He may have been an outcast throughout his school years. But with his school textbooks, he read journals. Hunter's journals.

Alfie Mullein was a supernatural hunter, and he would prove it to everyone watching.