Martello groaned, straining against the ropes when he eventually woke. It had been three days before he woke, completely healed but weakened from his sleep. Outside, it was warm, and I had rolled up the sleeves of my dress, and watched him intently as his eyes opened. 

It was around nine o'clock, and still the heat was stifling, not that he would have felt it. "Where am I?" he moaned. 

"Nowhere" I answered, sitting opposite in a wooden chair, it wasn't exactly comfortable, but I reclined back and pretended it was. His eyes narrowed. "You" he said.

"Yes, me" I said, "surprised?"
"Who the hell are you?" he said, "you aren't exactly very old, slayers aren't normally so stupid as to send children to fight for them"

"Big talk for a man tied to a metal beam, missing three fingers, all at the hand of a child"
His eyes darkened, and when he tried to move the missing fingers, he cursed and screamed. "You bitch! I'll kill you!" 

I laughed, "no, if anything, i'd be more concerened about the longevity of your own exsistance at this point in time"
"What do you want?" 

"Information" I replied bluntly. 

"I won't give it" he told me.

"Lord Martello, you have clearly not heard of my reputation, or my parents'" I said, obviously I did not have one, but it was certainly enough to cause him to rethink.

"Who are you?" he repeated.

I saw no harm in telling, it wasn't as if he was going anywhere. "Beatrice Everlyn"

"You're the little witch that's had Felix running around like a mad man, and the daughter of that bastard, Peter Everlyn"

"Ahh, yes, Prince Felix" I said, using his vampire title rather than human one and ignoring the comment about my father. 

"What do you want from his highness?" he said, spitting on the floor. 

"None of your concern, but I do require information on his current whereabouts"

He laughed coldly, "I will never tell you" 

"You can tell me yourself, or I can use a witch to force you to tell me, your choice" I said flatly. 

He laughed again, "Slayers do not deal with supernatural beings, not unless they intend to kill"

"I would be willing to make an exception" I said coolly.

He remained blank, not saying a word. "Very well" I said, rising to my feet, "we shall see if a few days without blood loosens your tongue"
His expression remained blank, and I turned and left, shutting the door behind me with a loud bang. 

I stepped into the night, walking away from the house and back towards cilvilisation. Lucas Martello would be hard to crack, but I needed Petrov's location and he was the only lead I had.

Making my way through the slums of London, I saw all kinds of people, and all walks of life. It was the epitome of poverty and despair in England. Harlots stood on street corners, feral children scampered the streets and the homeless huddled by make shift fires. The houses were run down and decaying, built during the start of the industrial revolution, they were not designed to last long. The bricks were blackened and a lonely churchbell rang out, sounding above the infants cries and wails of pain. 

There was no where more desolate. 

I was not a hundred percent certain i'd find who I was looking for here, but it was a good place to start. Lydia was waiting for me on the corner of Earlswood road, just like she had said. Her red eyes shone out in the darkness, and a hood covering most of her face.  I made my way towards her. She nodded when she saw me approaching and said, "He lives round here"

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