Typhon glanced at Sapphire with a rare flicker of reluctance. "You really want to come?" he asked, already knowing the answer.
Sapphire nodded stubbornly. "I'm not just going to sit around while you play detective."
With a heavy sigh, he relented. "Fine. But stay close. Understand?"
She smirked. "Like a shadow, milord."
They slipped through the crowded market and soon arrived at a narrow, grimy alleyway. Typhon pushed aside a rusted grate, revealing a hidden tunnel that smelled foul and damp, an underground passage no one spoke of, tucked away beneath the city's sewage system. Sapphire's eyes widened. She had never known such a place existed, so close yet so well concealed.
"This is where they hide the real trade," he murmured.
Sapphire wrinkled her nose but followed him inside, the dim light casting eerie shadows on the slimy walls. The ground was slick and muddy, making her feet squelch with every step.
"Stay there," Typhon instructed, pointing to a dark corner that smelled slightly less awful. "Don't move. And for the love of the gods, don't touch anything."
Sapphire sat down on a cold stone, trying to hide her discomfort behind a brave face.Typhon disappeared into the darkness
"Don't make me come back for you," Typhon's voice warned from the shadows.
Sapphire grinned to herself, knowing she was in for an interesting night.
Typhon pushed open the creaking door to a dimly lit room that smelled of stale ale and smoke. The place looked like a poorly scrabbled inn, with battered wooden tables and mismatched chairs. Shadows clung to the corners where vampires sat quietly, their eyes glowing faintly as they played cards and nursed drinks. The low murmur hushed as Typhon entered, all heads turning briefly before settling back into silence.
He scanned the room and walked directly toward a man slumped in a chair, swaying slightly as if drunk. But Typhon knew better, vampires had an iron tolerance for alcohol, and this was mere act.
"Game," Typhon called out sharply.
The man's red eyes flicked open, sharp and calculating despite the disheveled appearance. "You always this direct, Typhon? Or just in a hurry tonight?"
Typhon didn't smile. "I'm looking for some answers. Thought you might have a few."
The card players at nearby tables watched with keen interest, the tension thickening with unspoken grudges
Games eyes narrowed as the man's sharp red gaze met his. The room's air thickened with unspoken grudges.
"I have no answers for you. Not after you left me for dead."
Typhon's jaw tightened. "Get over it."
The man's lip curled in a bitter smirk. "Easy for you to say. But the past is a wound that doesn't heal with words."
Typhon's voice dropped, colder now. "I'm not here to relive old ghosts. I want to know who's smuggling through the market. And if you don't help, things will get ugly."
"You sure know how to turn me on," Game sneered, mockery dripping from every word.
Before the words fully sank in, a heavy fist slammed into Game's face, sending the cup flying and shattering against the floor. The sharp clink echoed through the room.
Typhon grabbed the stunned vampire by the collar, yanking him upright. His grip was iron-strong, unyielding, no human could have done this, but a vampire's strength was otherworldly.
"You got to do better than that, Milord," Game mocked, wiping the blood at the corner of his mouth with a smirk.
Before he could blink, Typhon's fist slammed into his face, once, twice, relentless, each strike echoing with years of unfinished business. The vampires nearby didn't interfere; they only watched, the air thick with tension and the scent of blood.
Game staggered, laughing low despite the blows. "There's the beast I remember."
Typhon grabbed him by the collar, his voice like steel. "I don't have time for games, Game. Where are the smugglers?"
Game coughed, blood trickling down his chin as he slumped into the chair, laughing bitterly.
"I give up," he drawled, spitting to the side. "Same Typhon… still all fists, no patience."
Typhon didn't reply, he simply waited, jaw clenched.
Game exhaled sharply, then leaned back. "The black market's shifted underground, deeper than it used to be. You'll find more than smuggled goods there now."
Typhon narrowed his eyes. "Like what?"
Game's tone dropped, suddenly serious. "Humans. Desperate ones. Selling themselves, some even their kin. Winter's coming, and hunger makes monsters out of men."
The tavern fell quieter, the surrounding vampires pretending not to listen.
Typhon's gaze darkened. "And who's buying?"
Game looked up at him, red eyes glinting. "Who do you think?"
A pause.
"Hivites have enemies, Milord. And some of them are building their armies with your people's blood."
Typhon's jaw tightened. "Who's funding it?"
Game smirked despite the swelling on his lip. "Now that… would cost more than a broken jaw."
Typhon grabbed the collar of his tunic, yanking him forward, eyes flashing. "Don't test me, Game. I'll rip it from your tongue if I must."
The tavern held its breath.
But Game only chuckled darkly. "Easy, Milord. I'm not your enemy… yet."
He pulled away and leaned in, his voice lowering. "Word is, someone high up in your court is keeping the market alive. Backdoor dealings. Hidden routes. Eyes in every corner."
Typhon's expression darkened.
"And the humans?" he asked.
"Mostly from outer villages," Game replied. "They disappear… sometimes willingly. Desperation does strange things. But when they're returned, if they are, they come back drained. Hollow. Dry"
Game leaned back, the smugness returning to his bruised face. "They're feeding something, Typhon. And it's not just coin."
Typhon's eyes narrowed, jaw clenched as the weight of the words settled.
"I'll get to the root of this matter," he said coolly.
He reached into his cloak, pulled out a heavy pouch, and flung it at Game's feet. The gold clinked loudly on the wooden floor.
"Get yourself more drinks. You've been useful."
Game gave a low whistle, picking up the pouch. "Now that's the Lord Typhon I remember."
Typhon didn't reply. Without a backward glance, he turned and strode out of the smoky, dim inn.
Approaching Sapphire, he found her squatted by the damp wall, head buried into her knees.
"You are back," she whispered without looking up.
"I am," Typhon replied, his voice low.
She slowly rose, brushing off her skirts, eyes meeting his. "I saw something move in the shadows…"
He let out a soft chuckle, stepping closer. With a tenderness she didn't expect, he ran his knuckles gently along her cheek. She closed her eyes at the touch, instinctively leaning into the warmth.
"Don't worry," he murmured. "I'm here."
"You shouldn't be here in the first place," he added, his hand falling from her cheek but lingering near, as if reluctant to let go. "This place isn't for you."
"I said I'd wait," she said softly. "And I did."
Typhon nodded, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his face. "I know." He glanced over his shoulder at the dark corridor they'd just come from. "Let's get out of here."
As they walked, the stale air of the underground pressing close around them, Sapphire glanced up at him. "Did you find what you were looking for?"
He didn't answer at first. Then, grimly, "I found enough."
They climbed the narrow stairs in silence, the faint flicker of torchlight at the top promising cleaner air and safer ground.
When they emerged, the night was colder than when they'd entered. Sapphire wrapped her arms around herself, but didn't speak. Typhon paused, then without a word, draped his cloak over her shoulders.
Her fingers clutched it gently. "Thank you."
He looked down at her, something unspoken heavy between them. "Get some rest," he said. "Tomorrow will be heavier than today."