The hummer had sped down away from the Everglades like lightning. The clock read 2:00, an hour since he had blown up his office. He liked the office too. He floored into downtown and got caught in traffic.

“Damn” he murmured. Melody pulled an ipod from her jacket pocket and put her headphones in. Revenant pulled it off her.

“Hey!”

“Those cause social isolation” Revenant said.

“You’re not the most social yourself” Melody replied.

“Touché” stated Revenant and tossed it back to her.

“Traffic’s moving” Melody said.

“I'm moving” Revenant growled.

“What’s that?” Melody asked.

“What?”

“That red glowing thing.”

“It looks like a firebird…OH MY GOD!!” Revenant yelped.

“What!?”

“Get out of the car!”

“Why…”

“NOW!!!” Melody and Revenant jumped out of the Car. Revenant carrying Osiris’ chest. Then the firebird hit the car as they ran from it. It exploded and sent them flying. Revenant grabbed Melody around the waist and took the force of crashing into a car through the windscreen.

“Revenant are you OK?” she asked.

“Do I look OK to you?”

“Sorry normal question” Melody blushed.

“My chiropractor is going to be really annoyed when I see him next” Revenant stated.

“Can you move?”

“Yes, Vampires are very hard to kill, to kill me is virtually impossible” Revenant replied.

“Vampire?” asked a familiar voice to Revenant.

“Oh damn” Revenant sat up. “Porcelain Grief” he said.

“Detective moron” Porcelain replied.

“I don’t suppose you're off to see the Board?” Revenant asked.

“I was…Why?”

“I need a lift.”

“I can take you…but who is the child?”

“Hey!” Melody indignantly replied.

“She is here to investigate Osiris’ disappearance” Revenant replied.

“As in Osiris Neckron? I've got to here this” Porcelain flicked her lack curls from her face and fixed her cerulean eyes on the road, her features looked just like those of a porcelain doll and she wore the most stunning evening gown Melody had ever seen.

“Late night?” Revenant asked.

“Staking out an arms deal between Korean gangs and the Werewolf Mafia” Porcelain replied.

“I solved the case of Jessica Mothamn.”

“The Aussie?”

“Yes.”

“The one with cement shoes?”

“Yes.”

“The girl at the bottom of the ocean?”

“Mmm hmm.”

“Who killed her?”
“Jonathon Lycaeon.”

“So now you're messing around in my cases?”

“Yes.”

“Damn you.”

“The feeling is mutual.”


Meanwhile at MMN (the Magical Media Network) a call had come in from an unknown caller.

“Yes” the Network President growled. How had someone got his private number?

“I have some interesting news mon ami” said a raspy, vaguely French voice.

“You called a media network with news, how original” the president sighed sarcastically.

“Silence balourd fool!”

“I'm sorry?”

“In six hours be in London. A man will be murdered on Big Ben’s hands…” the line disconnected. The president pressed on his intercom.

“Yes sir?” his secretary’s voice said.

“Get me any reporter in Europe. Then get me the cops” he hung up and wondered if this tip was real.