"Do you think it'll work?" The ginger-haired man peered curiously over his partner's shoulder as they stood hunched in an alleyway in the late afternoon.

"Emil, you've seen it done a hundred times," sighed the dark-haired man, holding a corked tube that contained a color-changing gas over a silver pocket watch that he dangled midair, its chain captive between his fingers.

"Not a hundred, but I'm sure we'll get there eventually, Rick," corrected Emil, watching as the man popped off the cork with his thumb and poured the iridescent vapor (that behaved like a liquid) onto the watch. The smokey substance covered the silver item momentarily and then began to move of its own accord to a determined destination, as a color-changing cloud floating slowly out of the alleyway towards the owner of the watch.

"Sentient aeriforms," said Rick matter-of-factly, trailing after the tuft of gas that transformed into a wispy arrow. "As good as bloodhounds when it comes to tracking scents, but less of a hassle to take care of."

"Ain't that the doggone truth."

∞

I fastened the last button on my ivory waistcoat and admired the oil-lamp illuminated brocade of the cloth, its patterns revealed to me like a secret message exposed to firelight. The bedroom had glossy white walls and bronze lamps shaped like naked women in every corner standing by avant-garde furniture that appeared to serve decorative rather than functional purposes. I sidled into my tailcoat for the event this evening, and reached for my heirloom pocketwatch from the clothes I wore earlier in that day, only to discover the articles were sans watch. I had no opportunity to search for it, however; a phone call from the concierge anxiously declared that I had visitors in the lobby, and I descended to meet them.

I never knew myself to be so popular as I arrived to ten burly men loitering loudly in a clump at the lobby. An unusually pungent and spicy aroma permeated from them, and as I neared, the group fell silent.

"Theo, is it?" came an indistinguishable, yet familiarly suave voice from the daunting clutter of men.

"Yes, that's me. Can I help you gentlemen?" In the quiet moments between our discourse, I mentally retraced the past few days I spent in the city, trying to discern a moment or an action that might have irked a gang enough to hunt me down.

"We figured we'd make a polite gesture by meeting up with you before the big magic act at Yoni's," said Rory, emerging from the group alongside Rick who was swinging a shiny silver--

"That's my pocketwatch!" I exclaimed, glad that it was not lost but curious as to why Rick had it.

The slick-haired magician sauntered towards me and placed the item into my hand, leaning to my ear with a small grin and a low voice. "Funny name for a man, Theona. Judging by the inscriptions on the item, it's passed down to every male in the family, and it would appear that you are the most recent owner of the watch, miss..."

"Bulloch. Mister Bulloch to the outside world, if you could please," I requested politely between clenched teeth.

Redheaded Rory interjected amidst our conversation. "We're here to ask you to refrain from coming tonight to the party, Mister Bulloch. It's in your best interest that you stay here tonight and mind your own business."

"Dare I ask why?" I glanced at the gruff posse Rick and Rory brought along with them.

"Because you'll be interfering with these gentlemen's work if you do decide to grace us with your presence this evening," said Rick coolly, nodding at the suited men behind them.

"I didn't know I was that much of a threat to your profession that you'd hire thugs to scare me, but I'm sorry, it's not going to work," I proclaimed, irritated by their tactics.

"Look, we're jus--,"

"This is the only lead I have of searching for the two men who can help look for my friend's husband, and I'm not going to surrender my efforts because you can't handle having another magic act beside you!" My words resonated in the lobby, and I only realized the volume after the fact, as Rick and Rory stared at me in horror. The entourage they came with shuffled about in exasperation, and one of them pulled Rory aside.

Rick did the same to me, but held my arm with more courtesy and kindness than what Rory was given. "I need you to understand that this is more than what you believe it to be, Miss Bulloch. This is not the sabotage of a rival magician stemming from hubris; we were hired by the Purples, the men that you see here with us, to help them with...an extermination."

"An extermination? Of vermin?"

"Of their rival gangs. These men are extremely dangerous, and we have reason to believe that the Endigos are just the same sort. We don't want to risk an innocent party if we can help it, and that's why we've come to warn you."

"By pickpocketing me and leading a group of potentially armed gangsters to the hotel I'm staying at? I'm not convinced that you've got my best interests in mind, Rick. And why have you been recruited for this 'extermination?' You don't seem like the fighting sort."

"That's because my methods are unorthodox, Miss Bulloch. If you couldn't tell, I dabble in magic."

"Really shoddy magic with that invisible string of yours, yeah," I snorted. My comment apparently offended the man as he gave me a disagreeable look.

"If you're that keen to get yourself killed in a mob massacre, I won't stop you, Miss Bulloch. But you're going to have to prove yourself useful if you're joining us."

I patted the long lump against my thigh and smiled devilishly at him. "Don't you worry, Rick. I've got what I need in a fight."

Rick, in response, was at a loss for words as he shifted his perplexed gaze between my pants and my face as he briefly re-evaluated his knowledge of human anatomy.

∞