*Previously on Cold Blooded – most of the two vampire families, Kingston and Blackmoore, are in 'The Tortuga' bar.* >Maria was shocked by the sudden change in Lucian. He sank to his knees and began to sob. She was quickly beside him, holding him. Once he was done begging her not to fear him she made gentle soothing sounds, rocking him slightly. "Shh... shh my love... I do not fear you... do not do this to yourself. I never want you to suffer." > >She looked up, bracing herself as his sire approached, but the male simply patted him arm, wished him happiness and left. Could it possibly be that simple? Maria didn't trust it but dismissed it for now. Lucian needed her. She stood, making him stand with her. She wiped his face lovingly. "No more tears. No more being on your knees my love. I am here." > >She looked at Alistair. "I want to take him home. Please?" she pleaded, needing her sire's permission before bringing a non-family male into their home. --- Alistair was both mildly bemused by the theatrics of it all and completely confused as to why it was all happening, especially *in public*. A wry smile twitched at the corner of his lips and he sighed, more dramatically than intended. Perhaps it was infectious? He knew some vampires were more prone to warbling fits of melancholy, bursting into tears, or turning to rage as if a switch had been flipped without a moment's notice, while others were... more detached. Apathetic. “Whatever you want, darling,” he said to Maria, eyes flitting over towards Trixy in a gesture of *what on Earth am I meant to say to this?*. He'd never been good at refusing those of his own blood, be those few he turned, like Maria, or his grandmother. “You're responsible for him, though. If he hurts one of us – and that includes you – well...” Alistair finished off with a shrug. “Don't let him shed on the carpet, either.” “Béatrix? I think it's time to give Mira a *gentle*, diplomatic reminder that The Tortuga is our territory.” Alistair offered the French woman a grin as he turned his back on Lucian and Maria. “We have stuff to do and as much as I find her and her posse entertaining, I *really* just want to kill something. Rogues, that is.”

Béatrix stood idly by Alistair as Maria and Lucian fawned over each other. She took a sip of her freshly-made sanguine cocktail, eyes shimmering with the bloodlust that Trixy always kept just below the surface. Trixy lived this way so that in a moment’s notice she could be ready for a fight, to run, or perhaps a bout of passion. It had been this way since Francis was ripped from her hundreds of years ago. She lived life at the cusp of humanity and ruthless savagery, the wind deciding which side of the fence she fell over. On the outside, Béatrix was the picture of elegance and beauty, a perfect actress concealing a fractured mind and soul, and few lived to tell the tales of her crazed and feral nature once she let it shine. *“I want to take him home, Please?”* Maria said. Her voice snapped Béatrix back into the here and now. Take him home? Was this a man they were discussing or a puppy dog? Trixy fought back a chuckle at the absurdity of the question… not that she would mind having one of the Kingstons defect to the Blackmoore cause. Wouldn’t that cause delicious drama? Of course, Trixy immediately turned to see Ali’s response… he looked a little tongue-tied, as per usual when it came to the requests of his kin. The conversation went on and Trixy actually audibly chuckled at Alistair’s shedding comment, obviously she wasn’t the only one to notice the unintentional dog reference. Before long Trixy’s drink was gone and she shifted uncomfortably, itching to get out and burn off some of the energy vibrating just beneath her skin. The fresh blood of the jock and the bartender in her system caused a flush in her cheeks, starkly contrasting her unnatural vampiric pallor. *“… I really just want to kill something. Rogues, that is.”* said Alistair. The comment was directed at Béatrix. Her response was a smile, sharp as a razorblade, and a curtsied bow. Her token leather trench coat crinkled over her corset and lace skirt ensemble as she did so. “Let me be your weapon, mon sieur.” Spoke the huntress, with a delighted hiss in her tone.

Night. It always provided cover, even in the age of electric lights, even against immortal sight. Darkness was mother nature's cloak. Darkness, and silence. Zipping at supernatural speed between brief exposures to streetlights, Mithias deceived the human eye until he could come within range of the Kingston manor. Fortunate for him that it was away from the city, high on a hill, and surrounded by trees and a manicured lawn. The vampire paused high in a tree himself aside the stone castle-like walls. A wind was picking up, blowing across a layer of red tulips in the yard below. He loved small, beautiful sights like that. He waited for a guard dog to round the corner out of earshot. Mithias had fully staked out the building and planned his arrival. He could have simply walked in the front door. He could have simply been a fool and died... or he could have ignored that letter. But he didn't. Taking aim at the roof, he fired a grappling hook, using a silencer of course, and swung above the cameras to land against the outside wall. A narrow window was cranked open, and that would be his entrypoint. Inside was a large, darkened bathroom that clearly hadn't been used in a while. The window likely had been left open and forgotten. Mithias set up a quick zipline to the trees. Kingston manor was large, and for the most part unoccupied. Using his heightened senses, Mithias explored where he could without being detected. He passed a long hall decorated with beautiful portraits and award plaques. It appeared this mysterious family of vampires were close to each other and valued their legacy. Mithias sighed quietly. It was nice to see that family still mattered in this world. Perhaps they did not lure him here to kill him. He'd have to investigate further. Shortly, Mithias stealthed onto the upper balcony of a large ballroom/theater. Quite elaborate for a simple residence. He was here on invitation, but he was going to find his host himself. Mira was her name. He listened intently for any sign of anyone else nearby. Something told him that he wasn't alone, and he smiled slightly. Then, as if he hadn't detected anything, he gracefully lept off the balcony with a forward flip to land perfectly on the dancefloor below in a crouch.  Mithias was a hooded figure dressed in all black. Two swords stuck out obviously behind him from under a short cloak. He was clearly armed, with guns as well, and who knew what else. Clearly he was a vampire and an intruder, but any attempt to read his thoughts only met with blackness. It was like a steel door was tightly closed for 360 degrees around his mind. Certainly an excellent quality for an assassin. Mithias stood in the open, waiting for whoever had discovered him to either approach or flee. There was plenty of room for a fight in here.

Lucian held Maria and breathed in and out softly, she was so comforting, everything about her made him feel like he had found peace at very last. He heard her ask her sire if she could take Lucian home and Lucian was more than surprised at the answer, "Thank you...Lord Blackmoore." That's when a black car pulled up out front, out of it stepped a large man with long dark brown hair, bright brown eyes and clad in a black suit that had almost tacky gold lace around all the edges, in his lips rested a large Cuban cigar that puffed small rings of smoke about his face and with every step he took he passed through another ring, his hair was braided in one strand on the left side of his face. The man had a cold expression about him despite the obvious smile lines on his face, the massive man was built like a warrior and walked with a stride like he was stepping over the fallen bodies of enemies. This massive man walked casually right through the doors of the Tortuga took one good look around and let out laughter that was not only boisterous but loud as well, "I'll be damned...leave you lot alone for 15 minutes And everything goes to hell!" The large man looked to the blonde knight clung to Maria, "Lucian Loralenn of the knights Templar and of the Kingston's...Be there a good reason you're attached to a Blackmoore?" He didn't wait for lucian to answer before answering Alistair's request, "as mater turn...I have the location of some rogues, old friends."

"He's Maria's boytoy. I presume he sings nicely," Alistair answered dryly for the possible Kingston-convert behind him. The vampire stuffed his thumbs through his belt-loops and swaggered over to the not-quite intruder. If he was honest, he was glad for the interruption - at least someone was allowed to laugh without being called a 'bad, unsympathetic leader'. Alistair allowed himself a smile, one fang jutting out crookedly for a flash. "Adrian, my man! Where've you been?" Instead of pausing to allow the other man to answer, he continued quickly, "You know what? Tell me about it after. Rogues first – and I do hope to God that's a plural."

Maybe it was because Trixy hadn't seen him in a while, or maybe it was just because she was excited at the promise of bloodshed, but she pranced over to Adrian in an uncharacteristic mood. Once by his side she planted kisses on both side of Adrian' s cheeks. Both being members of the Blackmoore Council of Advisors, they were relatively close friends, and Trixy had a feeling she new exactly what brought him to The Tortuga. "How many toys have you found for me to play with on this night?" She asked with a crazy shine in her eyes, amped up on her never ending bloodlust. Her arms stilled looped around his neck. Humans, vampires, it mattered not. Beatrix De La Croix, the Wolfsbane, would gladly take anyone on.

Magnus strode out of the backroom, holding a wine glass by the cup, stem going down between his fingers. The air seemed to grow stagnant when met with his presence, darker, colder. "I couldn't help but overhear, did any of you say 'Kill' just now?" Magnus said with a grin, sipping from his glass. "Sounds like fun, count me in." He smiled, showing off his fangs. He calmly strode over to one of the stools and sat down, putting his leg across the other and resting his arm that had his glass on it.

*"...and they lived happily ever after. That is still one of my favorite stories, but oh my look at the time. I suppose it is time for me to get going, but don't fret dearies I'll be back the same time next week for more story times. Bye bye for now babies."* The sweet and soft voice of a older, southern woman said. The voice came from a small television set that was sat in a store window, a price tag for fifty dollars was stuck to the top right side of the T.V.'s screen. The T.V. showed an animated black woman, who looked old enough to be someone's grandmother, seated in a wooden rocking chair which was placed near a roaring fireplace. As the screen changed to a random commercial about rash ointment the young man that was sitting cross-legged on the sidewalk in front of the store window sprang up with a cheer. **"Bye bye Mama Melody!"** He said with a huge grin on his face. The young man, more of a teen than man, began to stretch his lanky frame, loud sickening cracking sounds escaping his body. After that he looked around... er or rather just turned his head in the same motion someone would do if they were looking around as the teen's eyes were tightly wrapped around his eyes preventing any form of sight. **What should this one do now?"** He asked himself aloud as he scratched his head, causing a water fall of crimson hair to fall over his face. With a shrug the teen began to walk down the street aimlessly with a huge smile on his face and humming a simple tune, walking pass a bar by the name of *The Tortuga*. To anyone else the teen would appear to be like any other homeless teen, but to a select few... he was basically the same thing just they knew him as the pain in the neck of a vampire Cheshire.

Although empty upon arrival, Klaus knew it was only a matter of time before someone showed up to the estate. So when he had arrived, he had snooped around the large home and eventually retreated into the kitchen. He knew Mira kept bags in the freezer; a vampire unfamiliar with the home could make the assumption, as the faint aroma of blood always hung in the kitchen atmosphere. However, unlike the rest of Mira Kingston's little family, he preferred traditional methods of feeding. So, he was still at the kitchen table, his pale fingers turning the pages of an old book as his nose occasionally wrinkled in annoyance. Suddenly, though, a presence. And Klaus realized this vampire had been here for a relatively long time, only now making a statement of "here I am" in the room just next to the kitchen. A Kingston had no reason to sneak around the estate. Perhaps a Blackmoore? Although Klaus wasn't at odds with the Blackmoores like the Kingstons were, irritation set in. The vampire stood and stepped to the kitchen entrance way, his gaze falling on the figure cloaked in darkness. He was quick to assess the stranger: armed to the teeth, ready to defend their self should the need arise. _Defend_, echoed in Klaus' mind with hesitant relief; although considered old even for a vampire, he lacked the power many other vampires had. And walking around armed was for brutes and humans, in his opinion, anyway. Despite the anxiety settling into Klaus' mind, he put on a toothy grin, his eyes alight with curiosity. "Can I help you?" he prompted the stranger, allowing annoyance to lace his tone. "Maybe show you how to knock?" --- The night had barely started and Mira was already exhausted by undead drama. Between the stand off at club Tortuga and having to send Praetor in to gather the rest of her unruly family, she was done. However, the cool darkness offered some relief. Perhaps she just needed air. Regardless, her path was directing her back to the estate, but it'd still be a while until she reached home. Automobiles were not the woman's favorite mode of travel and walking provided her time to think. Still, even for a vampire, the streets weren't completely safe. Others roamed about and she kept her guard up; she was relatively young for a vampire, after all. Especially for a vampire who claimed to be the head of the family. She at least trusted Praetor and Klaus at her back, both of whom held a certain influence as ancients that she wouldn't have for a long, long time.

Adrian stretched out his arms and put them on Trixy's waist, "Oh you wouldn't even begin to believe me if I told you..." His eyes fixed on Alistair with a hardy smile painted upon his lips, "Converting Kingston's now eh?" Adrian let out another bout of his laughter that could bring ones mind back to the mead halls of old, "Do you think I would have bothered to come see you if it wasn't plural??? I have good info that says more than 12 vampires, younguns mind you but still, have taken up residence in the old mill by the docks, they are responsible for the deaths of 4 people so far...the police are saying rage killer...I'm saying we take care of this tonight."

"Rage killer, you say?" Trixy asked as she pulled away from the brief embrace. She smile saucily at Adrian and put her fingertips to her chest. "Last I checked, that was me." She quipped and chuckled at her own joke. Her eyes found Magnus sitting at the bar and she wondered where he'd been during all the Kingston drama. Beatrix flitted over to him and gave him a killer smile. She leaned up against his lap and put an arm around his neck and shoulders. "Well, dearie, where have you been all night?" She asked with a fang-toothed grin. "Well, it matters not, you showed up just in time for the fun anyway." Her eyes had a sinister sparkle and her cheeks still flushed with the alocohol laced blood she'd consumed earlier from the rapist jock boy. "Adrian comes with good news... Well, good for us at least." She said.

Praetor caught Mira deep in thought, he smiled and leaned over her shoulder. "Boo." He said before giving a chuckle. "Lucian is off with a Blackmoore girl for the night, I am little saddened by that, however it seems everyone can fall, well except me." He gave a dry laugh falling into step beside Mira. "I wonder how things back home are." He spoke quietly. However this good was strange for him, he was trying to be a little up beat, due to rumors floating around about rogue Vampires he had four British Snipers set watching them, the ghost undead once again protecting their treasured officer.

What Morven was doing wasn't *stalking*, exactly. Silently she padded through the streets of the concrete jungle that was New York, worn flat shoes barely touching the ground as she nonchalantly cast her gaze around the urban landscape, not focusing on anything in particular. Every so often, she would cast a wary glance at a small dot a few blocks ahead of her, as if expecting it to take an unexpected turn or pop up behind her without a moment's notice. Hair pulled up into an intricate braid, revealing delicate markings in sludgy, forest-green paint, Morven certainly didn't look normal; however, most people only glanced once or twice, a slight smile on their face that read, “*this is what kids are into these days?*” At least, that was until she broke out into a run (or a mild saunter, for a vampire's natural speed), and the few people that were out at such a late hour audibly scoffed. “Ches! Ches!” Morven called out in a slightly irritated hiss, jogging up to the blindfolded vampire and crossing her arms. “You need to be more cautious when it comes to your surroundings. You're in Blackmoore territory while there's a bit of a – an issue.” At least, the deafening sound from only a short time ago that sounded like it came from a vampire seemed to suggest as much. She hadn't been so deaf and disoriented since the last metal concert she had attended out of curiosity. Her nose wrinkled for a moment. “And if you're not careful, that lovely hair of yours' will turn to dreadlocks.” --- Alistair thumbed the hilt of his sword absently, resting his back against the bar. Twelve rogues were not a big deal, but in the bigger picture... “There's been a lot of new blood recently,” he mused aloud. “The homeless around the city are going missing, according to Morven, and stocks from blood banks are dwindling. If I didn't know any better, I'd say those are sure-fire signs of a new upstart family. Perhaps this group fell through the cracks?” The leader of Clan Blackmoore grinned wolfishly, tangling a hand in blonde hair in an attempt to resist the urge to let loose a manic cackle. He loved his life sometimes, but it was often *so boring*. A new player in town – even if it was made of loose rogues and fragile coalitions – would sate his desire for excitement, at least for a time. A war on two fronts, if the Kingston situation escalated. “Adrian! Lead us to them, if you'd please. I need a drink, and I want it to be vampiric.” Most said that drinking another vampire's blood was pointless – and, well, they were right. It had no nutritional value whatsoever, it was the consistency of tar and it was marked by an acidic flavour worse than vinegar, but everyone had to have their quirks. Alistair's just so happened to be intricately related to a thirst for power. He preferred to fight and struggle with what he drank from.

A huge, rather goofy grin came across the crimson haired vampire's face as he was stopped by what looked like a fellow teen. **"Mo Mo!!"** Ches exclaimed before pulling the shorter vampire into a hug, he let out a laugh and twirled the two of them before releasing her. His grin faded into a slight pout as he realized he was just scolded by the girl. **"Ches is sorry... He wanted to watch the funny box with Mama Melody in it..."** He said as he pushed a random pebble with his big toe. Ches never liked it when he upset Morven, she was one of the few that didn't try to out right avoid him. **"What makes the bad times for Mo Mo? Can Ches help?"** He asked, hoping to make up for his wandering. He then burst out into a laugh. **"Why would my hair feel the dread?! They are happy and give the tickles!"** Ches said as he waved a stand of his hair in front of Morven's face.

"You know me, always there but not there." He said with a grin. "Always in time for the fun parts, too." He took another sip from his glass and placed it on the counter, eagerly listening to the conversation between Alistair and Adrian, waiting patiently for the details. It'd been a while since he had taken down a rogue, tonight would be a very fun time for him indeed. The second he heard Alistair telling Adrian to lead the way he grinned and stood, shoving Trixy off gently. "Let the fun begin, shall we?"

Feeding off of the energy and excitement of her family members, Trixy jumped away from Magnus, ingoring his gentle shove. Her black leather trench billowed out behind her as she moved. Ever-watchful eyes scanned the room, all of the humans were still unconscious from Maria's banshee-boy's screech. "I'm always game for a good time, but are we going to just leave them like this?" she asked, the question was devoid of empathy or genuine care for the humans, it was more of a cover-your-ass kind of question. She took her place beside Alistair with a smile and absentmindedly put her hands on the hip holsters that held her dual glocks.

The resident vampire had chosen to speak. That was noble of him, considering Mithias was an armed intruder in his very home. It would have been dishonorable for Mithias to sneak in like a coward and kill a vampire in his or her sleep, but he was not bound by honor. Religion and codes were for the faithful and proud, for the young, misguided, and controlled. Mithias had discarded those illusions long ago. Reality was not bound by such childish rules. All was fair when it came to survival. Honor was for a soldier, but Mithias was a hunter. As such, his mission was to kill swiftly, efficiently, and mercifully using whatever means necessary. Hunters did not warn their prey. They got the job done and vanished without ever being seen. Glory never tainted their silent victory. A hunter prized strategy and efficiency to take down powerful prey, and if such prey left itself vulnerable, then it was fair game. By all rights, Klaus would have been justified in taking Mithias' head at the first opportunity without warning. Mithias knew this and was ready for it. It would have been the smart thing to do, but that didn't necessarily mean it was going to happen. Mithias was aware of something crucial. He knew that, as time passed, vampires all eventually come to suffer the same curse that plagues high immortals, curiosity. Unless he made himself an immediate threat, there was a good chance he wasn't going to be attacked, even when trespassing into the heart of a coven. Mithias turned slowly to face Klaus, who could see that the lower half of the intruder's face was masked by a black cloth, but memorably striking, vivid golden eyes shone from underneath his hood. Those eyes held no malice or fear, and were almost disturbingly unreadable, as if they were the eyes of an animal. The aura around Mithias was that of a vampire, yet something about its timbre echoed to Klaus of vampires of old, familiar in a way, yet causing him an undeniable level of concern. ...could he admit that it was fear? Mithias beheld the creature staring at him in the doorway. He was a beautiful, yet rugged blonde young man when he was turned. He looked quite human, aside from his piercing, annoyed gaze and fangs. Mithias could only guess at his true age, but he had no desire to test the man. "Forgive me." He said, placing a hand over his chest and bowing. He stood with his hands at his side, keeping his eyes on Klaus. "I had to investigate my would-be enemies for myself. I would speak with your Lady Kingston."

Mira blinked at the sudden presence beside her. She was surprised but she greeted Praetor with a smile despite the troubling news. "Has he read Shakespeare? _Romeo and Juliet_ did not end well," she pointed out, the warm grin growing cool. With the confrontation with the Blackmoore's still fresh in her mind, Lucian's choice in woman was particularly frustrating in the moment. She sighed and glanced to him as he stepped in line beside her. She brushed her hair from her face and responded, "Hopefully quiet." As far as she knew, the home was empty, though the night had proved exciting thus far and she wouldn't have been surprised to find a circus under her roof. --- Curiosity killed the cat, though Klaus was hesitant to attack not out of curiosity; he was hesitant to attack another vampire for a number of reasons. At the top of his list was the fact many of them had powers he, even as an ancient, lacked. Power, speed, and experience could easily be outclassed by the right _gift_. Though, under the Kingston roof, it came down to the fact that was not a Kingston. The person before him was no business of his until proven a definite threat. Granted, past that, his Mira was a Kingston--arguably _the _Kingston--and so he felt a certain protectiveness to the family head. He almost regretted his hesitation, however, when the other turned that golden gaze onto Klaus. Something about it was unsettling--and hauntingly beautiful--and it was now the curiosity in him sparked,. Still, the off putting grin rested on Klaus' lips and his predatory gaze only hardened. Luckily for perhaps both vampires, however, the younger one didn't make a move to attack. Klaus allowed himself to relax--though barely, as he had a general rule not to trust other supernaturals. At the mention of Mira, however, the tension was back and suspicion flickered across his gaze. "She isn't my Lady anything," Klaus stated matter-of-factly, the grin fading into a more formal frown. "I'm a guest here." An uninvited guest, but so was the vampire before him.

Mithias sighed inwardly, but did not move. Wouldn't it be just his luck to have timed his arrival to when Miss Kingston would be out of the house? No matter. He had already enough evidence that her invitation had been innocent and had decided to show himself. The presence of another of her guests was none of his concern, insofaras they remained peaceful toward him. "I will wait." His smooth voice gracefully ended the awkward silence.

Klaus regarded him in the silence that followed, frowning a bit. He was curious as to what this man had to do with Mira as well as why he insisted on hiding his face; however, he was unsure he could pry without coming off too strongly. He was well aware of his feelings of protectiveness he had for Mira, and if this stranger meant her harm, he didn't want to say too much. So, instead, he made a bold decision to turn his back on the intruder to return to the kitchen. "What do you call yourself?" he asked. "And can I get you a drink?" He turned back once retreated within the kitchen, eyebrows raised in question. Bram Stroker's _Dracula _still sat on the table.