Marcus turned toward the voice, eyes narrowing.
Standing in the doorway, framed by the broken ambience of the room, was a man in his late thirties—short black hair, gray eyes sharp and cold, and dressed in a sleek black suit that practically screamed wealth and violence. A polished hatchet hung from his hip, barely concealed. Behind him, six men flanked his sides, hands buried in their coat pockets, fingers twitching like they were waiting for a reason to draw steel or lead.
"Oh, isn't this interesting," Alexa murmured with a smirk, her eyes flicking over the new arrivals with amusement.
"Victor Reed," Marcus said flatly. "If I'm not mistaken. What's a mafia boss like you doing here?"
Victor Reed—publicly a small-time boss in Helios, but anyone paying attention knew better. His operation didn't run on street corner thugs or back alley dice games. He had reach. And teeth.
Victor's gaze slid past Marcus without a word at first, landing on Felix—still crumpled and bloodied on the floor, barely upright. The mobster's jaw tensed.
"Care to explain what the hell this is, Mr. Carver?" he asked, his tone dripping venom.
Felix coughed wetly and forced himself into a seated slouch, his bones audibly knitting as the healing took hold. "D-Don't worry, sir… I-I'll handle him…"
"Like you handled it before I got here?" Victor snapped, his eyes sweeping over the unconscious bodies littered across the room. His lip curled.
Then he turned his full attention to Marcus.
"You." He pointed a finger, voice sharp. "What the hell are you doing here? Why'd you do this?"
Marcus, already lighting a cigarette, took a drag. Calm. Cold.
"Well," he said, exhaling smoke, "Felix here decided to make an example out of one of his men. Problem is, his little stunt broke the veil. So I returned the favor. You know how it works."
Victor's head whipped around. He glared at Felix like he was a stain.
"You worthless fucking leech!" he barked, storming over. His polished shoe cracked across Felix's face with a wet smack, sending the vampire sprawling. "You can't even maintain the damn veil!? How the hell are you supposed to do what we need if you can't even cover your tracks!?"
Another kick. Then another. He stomped him repeatedly, each blow harder than the last, until blood sprayed across the floor again.
"Come on now, Mr. Reed," Alexa said, her tone sweet as honey. She leaned against the wall, still clutching her vials, voice playful but eyes gleaming. "Marcus already gave him his spanking. No need to keep bruising the poor bat."
Victor gritted his teeth, eyes still burning with fury.
"And what is it," Marcus said, taking another slow drag, "that you want him to do exactly, Mr. Reed? And this 'we' you just mentioned… is that your family or something bigger?"
Victor stopped mid-step. His eyes locked on Marcus.
"It's just business," he said coolly, brushing imaginary dust from his sleeve. "Nothing that needs to bother you, detective."
He motioned to his men.
They stepped inside in unison, fanning out silently—calculated, disciplined. Each one positioned to cover a different angle, ensuring no movement Marcus or Alexa made would go unnoticed or unpunished.
Alexa raised her hands in mock surrender. "Hey, leave me out of whatever testosterone contest you two are about to start."
She strolled casually to a corner of the room, her collection of vials clinking softly in her hands. Kneeling, she pulled out chalk, smooth stones, folded papers inked with runes.
"I'll be patching the veil now," she cooed, uncorking one vial and drizzling the blood in a careful line. "Try not to interrupt me—unless, of course, any of you want the whole city to see what's really living in their clubs~"
Victor let out a scoff, arms folding across his chest as he squared his stance in the center of the ruined room. His eyes locked onto Marcus with cold finality.
"You should leave, detective," he said, tone even. "The meeting that's about to happen? Not the kind you want to stick your nose in."
Marcus didn't flinch. His cigarette burned low between his fingers, a slow drag filling the silence.
"You're right. I shouldn't." His voice was steady. "I came here to punish a vampire, not sit in on mob strategy."
He tilted his head slightly, eyes narrowing.
"Unless what you're planning to discuss also threatens the veil?"
Victor's mouth twitched, but he kept calm. "It won't," he replied coolly, slipping his hands into the pockets of his pants. "Because unlike this worthless leech—" He ground the heel of his shoe into Felix's mangled hand, earning a low hiss of pain. "—I know how to be careful."
Marcus nodded once. "Good."
Then he turned to Alexa, who was crouched at the edge of the room, chalk dust smeared on her fingers, vials uncorked and empty around her.
"Almost done with the ritual?"
Alexa didn't look up. Her hands moved in practiced arcs, fingers tracing chalk lines around the blood-soaked stones, folding the paper seals precisely.
"Almost done~" she said sing-song, finishing the last glyph with a flick of her wrist. She paused. A breath. Then she muttered something low and rhythmic, her tone flattening, each syllable layered with power no human tongue was meant to pronounce.
The ritual circle responded instantly—vampire blood igniting into vapor, curling into smoke that vanished before it reached the air above. The smooth stones pulsed with soft light, and the folded papers darkened, their runes absorbing unseen ink like sponge to inkspill.
Then—silence.
The glow faded. The blood was gone. Everything stopped.
Alexa stood up and dusted her hands with a careless flourish, as if she'd just done a bit of housekeeping and not altered reality.
"All done~ We can go now."
Marcus turned back to Victor. "Well then. We'll leave you to your meeting, Mr. Reed."
He and Alexa moved toward the door, their steps unhurried. But just before exiting, Marcus paused.
He looked back, voice sharpening.
"Don't make me come after you, Victor. You're human—but that doesn't mean I'll hold back."
Victor didn't blink. His arms remained crossed, his face unreadable.
"I'll keep that in mind," he said simply.
Marcus gave a single nod.
And with that, the detective and the magician vanished into the hallway, the special VIP room door closing behind them—leaving What Lies Beyond the Veil hidden for one more night.