The doorbell. 

Mirabelle looked to Praetor. Part of her knew she should allow her elder and bodyguard to answer it, but her pride swelled. The Blackmoores were at her door to accuse her of wrongdoing, and she couldn't just stand for it. So, instead of allowing him to step in for her, she stepped out the den and through the kitchen toward the door. But her sire knew her too well, and quickly stepped passed her. 

"You were going to bed," she hissed. 

"I heard the door," Klaus stated, angling himself between her and the opening as he opened the door. He greeted the vampire before him with a smile, though a tense one. This one was old--older than himself. Though she was turned much younger. "How can we help you?" 

Mirabelle's glare on Klaus softened as she looked to he ancient before them. Then she was suddenly comforted by Praetor's and Klaus' presences.