It was ten in the morning when we arrived at The World's End in Camden. Another of London's historic pubs, its basement had been converted into a night club, the aptly titled Underworld Club.
A popular location for tourists and regulars alike it was usually packed. This morning it looked like any other club after a heavy night.
The party had obviously been a good one. Pungent scents of stale alcohol, piss and vomit wafted through the air despite the efforts of a miserable looking man who was working hard with a mop and a bucket full of bleach.
My wretched hangover did not enjoy the bouquet.
At first they didn't want to bring me, but after what happened with the vampires, it was safe to assume that any well-connected member of the supernatural community already knew that I was here. My power had a unique signature, and even if they couldn't pick up on that, I'd hardly been flying under the radar with my little display at the Spaniards Inn.
The time for hiding was past, we'd brazen it out now the best we could.
Stephen engaged the unfriendly looking man who had the unpleasant task of cleaning the well-used pub. The man gestured to the pub's main entrance and went back to his work without another word.
Stephen entered first. Emily brought up the rear. We fell into this formation naturally now, the two of them maintaining their security protocols even though the power structures in our relationship had changed.
I may not have any control over it, but my magic always emerged when I was threatened, and when it did, I outstripped both my companions in fire power. Stephen and Emily knew what I could do, but they both still tried to protect me and I was glad of it. It showed that they cared, or at the very least, that they were still getting paid and were fastidious workers.
And there were two things that they had which surpassed my power: knowledge and experience. It was these things that immediately became apparent when the large, jolly looking man came striding towards us as soon as we stepped into the dark, empty nightclub.
"And how are her majesty's two best agents?"
The man was obviously a witch and a strong one, judging by the bright green life-force that glowed strongly around him. He was tall and broad, muscles straining against an overly tight shirt. Black hair was tied back at the nape of his neck, a little too full around the hairline for nature. Tight leather trousers completed his outfit.
Showy and unnecessarily revealing wasn't a look that I admired in a man.
"And Alice, is that you?"
I'd been hovering in the doorway, following Stephen and Emily's lead. Their carefully maintained calm screamed for caution.
When the man addressed me, their postures straightened and tension sucked the air out of the room.
Was this a test? If it was I had no idea what would be a pass or a fail.
All I knew about this guy was that he was an influential figure in the Southern Coven, and that he might be able to help Mary. Securing his assistance could be the only thing that prevented us having to go grovelling back to Hazel. Her price would be too high.
I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry as dust.
"Roger, this is Alice, but it seems that introductions are unnecessary," Stephen said, before I could put my foot in it and ruin Mary's chance.
"Of course it is! My brother told me all about you, dear child, although you are far lovelier in person than I could have imagined," Roger said, as he took my hand and raised it to his lips. "If you've come to thank Ben for his assistance with your father, then I'm afraid you're going to be disappointed. He's up north, resolving a coven dispute in Glasgow. But perhaps we can come to some other arrangement to settle the debt that you owe to the family."
"Debt?" I spluttered.
Roger's statement was so laden with what I owed to him that I almost forgot it was Ben not Roger that had defended me against my father's army of gargoyles.
I scowled at Stephen. They could have told me about the connection on the drive over.
"Why of course, little one. You didn't think that the service of the Southern Coven, at the risk of one of its princes, was going to be free of charge, did you?"
I bit down on my tongue to stop the outburst that nearly erupted out of my mouth. I was nobody's little one. I'd rescued that damn prince from life as a gargoyle. I'd say all debts between us were squared.
"Pipe down Roger, if there's any debt to pay, it is owed to Ben alone. Alice will address that with your brother when he returns from his business. You can give him my card. I will negotiate payment between the two of them, as is the custom."
My mouth hung open as I studied Emily. Her usual calm composure verged on boredom as she dismissed Roger's claims in a tone that suggested she had the authority to do so.
Roger's face heated. The green particles of his life-force throbbed and glowed around his large body as his anger built.
A surge of magic rushed through my blood as I realised that he was intending to use that green magic against Emily. I stepped forward, ready to act, the tiny silver particles that hovered close to my skin multiplying frantically. They joined together creating a rich silver glow that reached out from me to Roger.
Before I could release the magic, Stephen moved, blocking Emily from Roger's sight. "You can leave it in the magistrate's capable hands can't you, Roger? It was your family that seconded her nomination, after all."
Roger's life-force dimmed, but the rage in his eyes increased exponentially as his power decreased. This guy did not like to step down from a fight with a woman. He looked at Emily like he wanted to tear her apart.
Emily didn't flinch, but met his gaze, allowing a touch of amusement to shine in her eyes. Rage blazed back at her, the rich green of Roger's energy shining out through his hazel eyes. I didn't wonder that she bated him. That man was an obvious misogynist.
The threat was subdued, but the cold intensity of Roger's life-force still called to me. Silver tendrils of power reached out of me, wrapping themselves around the base emotions that I could feel as if they were my own.
The things that Roger wanted to do to Emily, to me, to any and all women swarmed through the connection that my power made with his. Just for a moment, his desires became mine, and I liked them. The second that the horror of it crossed my mind, I banished it. Disgusted with myself, I clumsily broke the connection, pulling my magic back to me and forcing it deep inside.
Roger felt the jolt of separation. His eyes shot to mine. A swirl of silver moved round his pale hazel eyes and then disappeared. A smile of understanding twisted his face.
"Ah, perhaps you will do after all," he said raking his eyes over my body.
Bile burnt the back of my throat. I looked away, unwilling to share in the intimacy seeping from his tone. The others hadn't realised what had passed between us, and I wanted to keep it that way. The sick images of women bound and degraded wouldn't leave my mind. I felt only disgust now, but the memory of the shared excitement lingered. That was just his perverted reaction reaching out to embroil me in its darkness.
It had to be. I wouldn't allow it to be anything else. It was not a part of me, a symptom of my growing power. I would not be corrupted into a version of my father.
As though he could feel my struggle, Roger directed a knowing smirk my way. I thought I might throw up.
"We need your help," I said, desperate to move things on from the plague that had infected my mind.
"Well why didn't you say so dear? What can I do for you?"
There was more than a hint of sarcasm in Roger's voice, and I began to despair that someone so twisted would help us at all.
"It's my aunt Mary," Stephen said, taking over before my temper blew it for all of us. "She's ill."
"What could I do to help your aunt? You're human." Roger's face twisted into a sneer of derision at that last word, but his life-force flickered bright green.
"Some information has come to light that throws doubt on her classification as human," Stephen continued cautiously.
Roger watched us, waiting. My irritation increased with each second that ticked by.
"You wouldn't happen to know anything about it, would you?" I blurted out, my mouth working before my brain caught up to urge caution.
"The power lines have been distorted recently. A witch with a weak link to her heritage might begin to experience some connection to her power," Roger said, a calculating gleam in his eyes.
"And how would you help such a witch accommodate her power, having lived her life as a human?" I kept my voice steady, I really didn't want this creep to know how invested I was in his answer.
Roger looked at the floor, hands joined behind his back. He leaned back on the heels of his feet and looked at me down his nose.
My patience was hanging by a thread. Silver particles multiplied around me, knitting together, reaching out to Roger's rich green energy. He was a worthless cretin. But I could use his power, change its sequence, make it mine.
Muscles tense, my body inched forward helping my silver life-force close the distance between us.
A tight grip on my arm broke the spell. Stephen's gaze bore into me, willing me to control my magic. I pulled it back to me, swallowing the burning sensation of too much energy fizzling through my veins. I couldn't lose it now. Mary was relying on us.
"They would come to the coven and be assimilated with their brothers and sisters."
Of course they would. That was not the answer for me, but Mary, she needed the coven to make sense of the memories that were twisting her mind.
"Would you help us out with Mary?" I asked.
"Any favour for you, Alice," Roger said, with a satisfied smirk.
Oh dear, what has Alice gotten herself into now?