It wasn't as if he was travelling by choice, he was being summoned by a fool. Turning into Greys Inn road, Meyer pulled his collar up against the chill wind that swept around the corner of the street. Small beads of sweat formed across his brow from the minimal amount of exercise he had completed in walking this far; God, he was unfit. He was greeted by pulses of royal blue light, the iridescent hues rhythmically chasing away the dank yellow streetlight as it swept along the road. The source of the light was clear, even without Meyer's thick spectacles which, if he remembered correctly, had been left on the table in the library. In the near distance, a swarm of police cars huddled around the entrance to Greys Inn gardens as blurred fluorescent jackets ran back and forth between the vehicles and the entrance like bees collecting honey. What were they there for? Meyer could easily find out, and it would use only the most modest amount of power, but then that was exactly the type of expenditure the doctors had told him to avoid. The problem was, he was still interested. In fact, ‘unfortunately interested’ would be a good summary of his life to date.

Meyer crossed the road to avoid the blockade, but more accurately, as a vain attempt to further distance himself from the enticement of the mystery. As he passed them, he glanced back one final time as three more cars pulled up at the entrance. Whatever it was, it was big. Enough. There were plenty of other things to keep his mind busy without delving into human matters. For one, Wade was dragging him to Holborn Bars for some God-forsaken task and he should try to figure out what that was. Sure, he understood why Wade so obnoxious, not wanting everything to come crashing to an end on his shift, but with Meyer, he always made the extra effort to be whole heartedly insufferable. Wade made the tough decisions, that is what everyone repeatedly said. It was just unfortunate that he did not always make the right ones.

Meyer headed off the main road and down the street that ran beside St Alban's church, the route he'd always taken to the Bars since he was a teenager. The journey was as natural to him now as breathing. While letting his thoughts be consumed by his hatred for Wade definitely distracted Meyer from the incident at Greys Inn, it also meant that he remained ignorant to the three men in dark hooded jackets that had been following him since he entered the previous street. He was so consumed with his inner rant that he didn't even notice them quicken their pace behind him. The first Meyer knew of what was happening was the pain of his face being scraped along brick as he was shoved against the wall of the church.

“Wallet. Now,” a voice barked from behind him, the words slightly slurred, but the accent stereotypically East-end.

The flat of a blade pressed up against his face, the metal cold against his cheek, as he remained pinned to the wall. Instinctively, Meyer summoned his magus, gathering it like a fire in his chest before he let his thoughts drift outwards. A mental echo was the technical term for what he had just done and from it, Meyer knew there were three men surrounding him, two in their early thirties and the last, no older than eighteen. Their intentions were clear enough though, even without Meyer's powers. God, he hated humans.

The pressure lessened on his back, allowing his face to lift slightly from the wall, the freshly grazed flesh tingling in the night air. The cut would take forever heal at his age, but what annoyed him more was the tear he heard his jacket make.