Constance drove us both to a quiet area of downtown. Her black luxury sedan, typical of cars that had a German pedigree as it did, drove smoothly and quietly into a parallel parking slot like it was being placed carefully into a velvet box. She exited the car gracefully, as I did so with far less grace. As we stood together on the sidewalk out front of an elegantly lit bar named ‘Jeremy’s’, mellow jazz music leaked out of the façade at a delicate volume. She locked the car with the remote and gestured to the bar with her right hand.

I followed her lead silently as I drank in the ambiance. She led me through the opulent bar filled with the hushed sounds of a luxury establishment. The patrons are having intimate conversations over overpriced, top shelf drinks. I could see the beautifully showcased bottles of liquor that I could never buy on a COP salary. They even had a single malt scotch that was twenty-one years old. As I was lusting after a taste of that scotch, Sally took me past everything to the alcove that had three bathroom doors. The two doors to the right had clear markings for male and female. The one farthest to the left was marked with a male symbol, but had a brass sign on a chain hanging from it. The sign said ‘Out of Order”.

Constance took us through the third door. The room beyond the door was done in pristinely clean blue and white checkered tiles. She took me to the back of that room and pressed two of the tiles on the wall on the hinge side of a door that had a ‘facilities’ sign on it. The door swung out on hidden hinges that were on the doorknob side. Inside, the space that was revealed was lit with a gentle sepia light. A spiral staircase went down into a deeper place. Out of the stairwell, a fragrant breeze of jasmine and vanilla wafted into my face. We went down the stairs, and the door closed behind us. We reached a landing once we had descended two floors from the main bar area.

She finally spoke up, “There is a special Jazz club located in the basement of this building, so we soundproofed the sub-basement and made our own little club. Please don’t embarrass us here. Remember what I told you. This is the most dangerous place you will ever have been.” Constance gave me a look that showed that she was worried.

“Understood,” I replied.

“The table at the back that has a cat on it is The Eldest’s personal table. Nobody else is going to be willing to go near the table. Don’t touch the cat if you can help it!” she admonished me as she looked into my eyes again. Her demeanor was different from her usual dismissive and sarcastic one.

As Constance opened the door that was set four feet back from the base of the stairs, she assumed her usual jaunty manner

She led me into the room and waved at a few of the other patrons, who waved back as they sipped on insulated mugs. The mugs were not steaming, as far as I could see. At about the middle of the room, Constance pointed to the table at the back of the dimly lit area. “There you go. Good luck. Everybody here knows not to bother you. I’ll be at the bar,” she said, and walked to the bartender’s area at the opposite side, swaying across the room to the beat of the quiet blues soundtrack.. The counter area was constructed of distressed boards and a steel framework. I noticed that the theme was consistent with the walls and floor. The patrons looked at me like I was one of the strangest things they had ever seen.

I walked slowly up to the table where a grey tabby cat was having its fur stroked by a pale man with silver hair. For somebody called The Eldest, he looked younger than I expected. I would have guessed his age as mid-thirties.

“Hello, Detective Hendricks. I have heard wonderful things about you,” came the silken voice of the man. The cat looked up at him and seemed to be considering his value. “Please, have a seat. Have a little of my wine.” He indicated the seat across from him that already had a glass with a small amount of red wine in it.

I took the offered seat and sniffed the glass in front of me. It smelled good, a bit fruity with an undertone of earthy scents. Taking a small sip, I noticed him watching me closely. He smiled as I set the glass down. “I’m not usually a red wine guy, but that is a pleasant one,” I said with a smile. The cat stood up languorously and walked over the table to pose in front of me, sitting with its tail curled around its paws. The creature looked at me for a few moments before lying down in front of me with its back to me and began to purr.

The man had yet to blink in the time I had been observing him. “Temple is a very good judge of character. He seems to approve of you.

“How do you like my place?” he asked as he waved his hand slowly around to indicate the premises.

“Very nice. Do you also own the bar above?” I asked him.

“Yes. Do you like it? I purchased it in the late 1980s and had the whole thing renovated. If there is anything you would like a taste of, I can have it brought down for you.” His smile as he said this was actually quite warm.

I considered and could not help but answer, ”I was admiring a twenty-one-year-old scotch as I was coming in, but that would be a bit extravagant.”

His smile broadened as he waved someone over from the bar counter. The bartender who moved silently to his side was a large, muscular man with a polished bald head. The man’s muscular arms were perfectly proportioned on his large frame. He must have been at least 6’ 8”. The Eldest whispered in his ear, and the man moved with speed that boggled my mind, with no sound of his passing disturbing the mellow blues music that had continued to penetrate the room. He returned as quickly as he had left. He carried a bottle of the exact libation I had lusted after upstairs. He also carried two crystal tumblers that held a cluster of whisky stones in each. Setting the tray in the center of the table, he turned to me and smiled in a way that revealed his pronounced canines dramatically. “Please enjoy, sir. Please consider the bottle to be compliments of the establishment,” he pronounced in a smooth baritone. I realized at that moment that this was the voice singing the blues in the background.

“Thank you. By the way, I am enjoying the music. When did you perform this piece?”

“No, sir, thank you! I sang that one about twenty years ago. It was right after I was turned. Please enjoy,” he added again.

The man across the table from me poured a finger of the golden fluid into each of the tumblers. I could smell the rich fragrance of the heady liquor. The bartender had already gone back to his station on the other side of the room. I saw him in conversation with Constance, their heads close together as they talked.

“That was Butch. He has been working for me since I freed him from his abusive sire in 1975. He’s a good guy. So is his boyfriend,” he shared. “So, Iris sent you for the key.”

As I enjoyed a sip of the chilled scotch, I looked back to the enigmatic man and responded, “Yes, but she said I had to meet with you first.”

He set his tumbler down and seemed to sigh with satisfaction as he licked his lips. “Have they told you of the requirements to use the key?” At my slightly confused look, he continued, “According to the legend, the key can only be used to cure the vampires and lycans by a vampire who has been bitten by a lycan and has tasted my blood.”

“What is so difficult in that?”

He smiled again, but it was more predatory than any I had seen from him yet. “My blood is toxic to vampires. Even a drop would mean certain death. Lycan bites are also lethal, as is a lycan biting a vampire. Neither would survive the interaction.”

I considered as I took another sip from the chilled liquid gold. “So, she is looking for an impossible individual?” I asked.

“That would seem to be the case, but puzzles are made to be solved… “

“By the way, how did you free Butch from his master?” I asked, changing the subject.

His smile turned less predatory and more warm. “I convinced him to release Butch. It only takes a mental command. Traditionally, the sire says, ‘I release you from my command,’ but this tradition is not mandatory.”

We finished our drinks in companionable silence. I stood and spoke to The Eldest as the cat got back up and walked over to flop down in front of the other man, “It was a pleasure meeting you, Sir. Thank you for the drink.”

“It was my pleasure as well. It isn’t often we have regular humans as guests here. I have supplied your companion with the information you will need for the next stage of your quest. Please don’t forget your bottle. The contents would only go to waste in my current company,” he said with a gracious nod of his head.

I nodded back and picked up the bottle. I walked over to Constance as eyes all around the room followed my every move with unblinking severity.

---===+++===---

When we got out to the car, Constance locked the bottle in the trunk. As we took our seats in the vehicle, she turned to me and had an odd look in her eye. “So, feeling all buddy-buddy with the murder-fluff? What the hell, man? You made friends with a ruthless killer like that?”

I raised my left eyebrow slowly as I looked at her with a smirk, “Pot, meet kettle!”

“Okay. Points for the comeback. Iris texted me. We have to stay away from the house. Something is going on, and we can’t get in the way. I’ll get us a hotel room, and you can take a load off. We can continue to the next step in our investigation. Butch gave me the lowdown.”