Lizzy sat up and dropped the act. Her face took on an entirely different form, more refined and discerning. The goo-goo eyes were gone, like a mask she wore only for those who didn’t know her. Her new demeanor was commanding, proving the lie to how she was acting before. She ran this place; she was no damsel in distress. She had dirt on half the politicians in the city and all of the important ones.


    "You really have gotten old, haven''t you, Jack?" Her voice was deeper now, more matter-of-fact. She flashed a familiar smile. "Have it your way, straight to business."


    She snapped her fingers and stood. We were led through a set of heavy wooden doors into a private room fit for royalty. A soft, curved couch sat against one wall, adorned with plush pillows and a cozy throw blanket. In the center of the room was a small table, intricately carved from dark wood and adorned with ornate decorations. I took a seat on one end of the couch while she settled gracefully on the other. It was quiet here, the faint muffle of the club barely audible.


    The air between us was thick with unspoken tension, memories of the past mingling with the present reality of my undead state.


    “How can I help you, Jack?” she asked, her voice smooth yet commanding.


    The room exuded an air of luxury and elegance, making me feel out of place in my simple attire. But as always, she made me feel at ease with her effortless charm and grace. This was her sanctuary, where she could shed her title and responsibilities and simply be herself. She kicked off her heels and lounged back. A goon got her a drink of dark amber.


    A few women sat in the back of the room, watching us. I assumed they were her real bodyguards. The goons were just for show.


    Her piercing gaze met mine, a mix of curiosity and something darker flickering behind her eyes. She sighed after a moment, the sound laced with resignation.


    "So, how can I assist you, Jack?" she asked, studying me intently. "Back in the business?"


    I scoffed. "No, just fulfilling a favor." But deep down, I knew it was more than that. It was quickly becoming personal.


    I reached into my pocket and pulled out the matchbox, tossing it onto the table between us. Her relaxed demeanor faded as she stiffened at the sight of it.


    “Got this from the pocket of Robert McGuffey.”


    "Jack, you know I can''t discuss my clients. It''s a matter of privilege."


    “Even the dead ones?”


    She didn’t seem surprised.


    “Especially the dead ones,” she said, taking a sip of her drink.


    "I didn''t realize you still had a ''no kiss and tell'' policy," I retorted.


    She let out a sad chuckle. "Oh Jack, you of all people should appreciate our discretion."


    "Lizzy," I said, leaning forward, my eyes boring into hers. "This isn''t about some petty job. There''s something big brewing, and it’s got everyone from angels to demons on edge. I need to know what McGuffey was into, and I need to know now."


    She studied me for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Then she sighed, taking a sip of her drink. "You always knew how to get under my skin, Jack."


    You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.


    "Yeah, well, it’s a talent. Now spill."


    She glanced at the matchbox again, her fingers tapping lightly on the armrest of the couch. "Fine. But you owe me. Big time."


    I nodded, knowing that whatever the cost, it was worth it. “Deal.”


    A woman with a flowing gauze dress and pointed ears emerged from behind a nearby curtain. She moved with the grace and fluidity of a predator as she poured the fragrant liquid into my cup, never once breaking eye contact.


    “Robert was a putz,” Lizzy said, matter-of-factly. “Didn''t know his shoes from his shirt. Thought of himself as some sort of collector. Demon connoisseur. Guy was harmless, really. That is, until he found something. Don’t know if it was dumb luck or a cosmic joke, but he got his hands on something real nasty, Jack. Don’t know what it was, only that he was real worried about it. Told the girls all about it. People following him at night. Dark figures out of nowhere. Honestly, we just thought the guy was losing his marbles. Then, he turns up dead. He was a good customer, Jack. I don’t like losing good customers."


    "Who else knew about it? The artifact."


    She hesitated, then leaned in, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Everyone, Jack. From the highest echelons of the supernatural underworld to the dirty politicians in City Hall. They’re all after it. This thing is no joke. And the price on your head? That tells me one thing. Someone wants you out of the picture, and fast.”


    I leaned back, processing the information. “Thanks, Lizzy. I owe you one.”


    She smirked, a glint of mischief returning to her eyes. “You always did, Jack.”


    We had a fling about fifteen years ago when she was fresh meat in this joint. Now she ran the show, and I was the one looking like a museum piece.


    I reached into my pocket for the key.


    I don’t think that’s a good idea, Jack, Frank’s voice crackled in my head. She might be as beautiful as death’s eternal night, but she’s slipperier than a greased goblin.


    Her gaze lingered on me as I listened intently to Frank.


    Jack, this key isn’t just a trinket. You sure she’s the one to trust?


    We’re running out of options, Frank. She’s our best shot at figuring this out. Unless you’ve got a better idea?


    Touché, Frank quipped. Just keep your wits about you.


    I chuckled silently. Not getting sentimental now, are you, Frank?


    A smile played on Lizzy’s lips as she watched me. "Oh, I thought I smelled Frank. You''re still wearing him, aren’t you? Old gentleman, how is he?"


    I shrugged, keeping it cool. "He''s still full of himself."


    “I think I might be starting to get why the hit is on me. The artifact that Robert got his hands on. I have the other half.”


    I placed the key down on the table. "Do you know anything about this? Ever seen anything like it?" I asked.


    Her reaction was instant and raw, startling me. She jerked back from the key as if it were a red-hot iron, hissing in disgust. Her composed expression contorted into one of bitter disdain, her eyes ablaze with scorching intensity.


    "Where did you get that?" she spat out, her voice dripping with venom. There was a look in her eyes I’d never seen before. Something visceral. Feral. A hunger like one I felt very recently.


    I grabbed the key from the table and backed away. The women in the back of the room edged closer.


    She slowly regained control of herself. But the danger still lingered in her eyes, like a smoldering fire behind a carefully constructed facade.


    "That key... I don’t know what it is, Jack, but I need it," she said, her voice laced with a hint of fear. Her jaw was clenched.


    "Something in me, in my bones, tells me that if I could just touch it… I could have anything. Everything." Her voice trembled with a dark longing, sending a chill down my spine. We were dealing with forces beyond our understanding. “You need to get rid of it, Jack. For your own safety. Give it to me.” She hissed, stepping closer.


    Uh, Jack. We might want to start thinking about making a polite exit, Frank’s voice cut through the tension.