Beatrix watched with vague interest as the young Adelisa tried to defend her honor. Trixy kept quiet, sometimes saying nothing said more than any words could. Plus, eerie silence on her part might make the Kingstons uncomfortable, as most already thought she was crazy. Truth be told, Trixy had only not responded to Mithias' comment about her dress because she didn't think much of it. After a few centuries, a certain amount of pride builds in a vampire. Beatrix knew that most men, aye not even men alone, most people found her attractive, so flattery didn't mean much to her. In fact, she could tell from his body language that he hadn't meant any harm in it. A good executioner could always tell if a person was being truthful. Despite her long-held silence, Trixy did have to stifle a laugh at Ali's comment about kinks and incest. She had to choke back a little bit of the Kingston's awful tasting blood offering to hide the chuckle. When Alistair finally brought the meeting back to the topic at hand, she was glad for it.

Adrian

The room he was laid in was warm and beside him lay two women, both willing participants in his way of healing, he had drank his fill, each of the girls were someday going to be sired into vampires by him, but for now they remained his faithful servants. When Alistair's text came through he replied simply, "The Master of Whispers regrets being unable to show himself...sorry brother...annoy Praetor for me."

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Morgan

Morgan had been the one to take Adrian into the Tortuga to rest and using his cell phone she called the two women who had pledged their service to him forever. Once they had arrived and got settled in, Morgan took herself into one of the other rooms and got a shiny black dress that barely hung above her ankles, the dress itself was what almost looked like scales, if asked she would jokingly say it was her gift from a dragon, if only the knew...it was her gift from The Dragon... when she was fully dressed and had put on a touch of makeup, just enough to compliment her deep red hair, she made her way to the Kingston manor and let herself in walking into some form of silly argument, "Mind your tongues...we are guests after all." Her voice was calm and level but underneath it was a layer of power only one as old as her could speak with, "After all there will be plenty of time to argue and bicker after we have solved the issues at hand." She took a seat next to Beatrix, her movements reminding one of a spider in the way she did things...elegant and oh so deadly.

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Lucian

Lucian remained upstairs, sitting in front of the mirror awaiting to be called down, awaiting a death sentence. If that was the choice he would accept it and give back the life he had been given so long ago. He would join his son in eternity, he opened the chest at the foot of his bed and put on his suit, his uniform from world war 2. It would serve him well once again be it in life...or death.

Adelisa looked at Morgan with a slight smile. Did all the Blackmoore women look stoic and femme fatale? Would she ever- no. She probably would never be a dangerously seductive woman like Beatrix and Morgan. She was quirky and feisty, unable to keep calm. Maybe that was her charm? Or not, as she had a hard time showing any charm. Her blue, curious eyes wandered the table and landed on the drink in front of her. It smelled different, that was for sure, but she lifted the cup to her lips and sipped.

That was a bad idea because she instantly wanted to spit it out. She put the drink back up to her lips and discreetly spit the drink back into the cup. She smiled sheepishly, but now understood why everyone in the Blackmoore family didn't like it. She used to never care about the taste or texture or temperature, but it was different now. Adelisa wasn't starving, so everything hit her like a freight train when she realized these must of been from bags. A blush lit her cheeks and she bit her bottom lip.

Sandro seemed uninterested in the conversation about family. That was one thing he had never cared all that much about. Like Alistair he believed family was the one you chose. Yes he had gotten along well with his Sire, but he also hadn't seen his sire in somewhere around a thousand years. One of those numbers he had forgotten to keep track of. For a Historian he was awfully good at forgetting dates.

In concern to the drink, Sandro touched the cup of cold blood, and without taking a sip he grimaced. "Were we here to discus something, other than dinner sources?"

"We here to discuss that with threaten us all. Dracula and his return, for those you unfamiliar Dracula is what many believe could be the first vampire or akin to it. He is powerful and old, his abilities are mystery even to me and I hunted him for two centuries." He stopped realizing the ghosts he mucked it up he reissued orders, soon blood was serve again this time it steam and as for Morven well he kept animal blood around as well, it was a good back up if they ever ran out. "As it stands I know this, Dracula is telepathic, hypnotic, and even alter gravity as to walk or move up walls. That's just the edge or it, he can control become creatures of the night, move weather how he wills, and move through even the smallest crack in building. Dracula is not without a weakness, he need for blood is greater than any of ours and his powers make it more demanding, human blood is alright but vampire blood keeps him strong longer."

He towards the door to the room adjoining. "He can also it seems... Move between Vampires bodies..." He went quite letting that all sink in. This made it serious even if that did beat him whoever could have there body threaten by him. "I have called you here to discuss two things, one a way to remove the second mind from Lucian's. Failing that, how to kill Dracula and ensure his total and complete destruction." With that he took his seat at the head of the table." Auria sat beside him sipping from her goblet watching the crowd.

Adelisa nodded slowly as the man spoke, knowing the full extent of the situation. Dracula had always been known as bad news. Rumors spread of his existence in another vampire, but until now it has all been rumors. She looked over at the warm blood and closed her eyes. She knew her place at this meeting, so she kept her mouth closed. It wasn't polite to talk out of turn, but she wondered what they already attempted. Maybe it was under their noses the whole time and they just couldn't see it? Or maybe it is a journey only a hero will take?

Adelisa drank some of the whiskey Alistair suggested. It definitely did its job, but Adelisa would not drink more. Alcohol, though she was a vampire, lowered inhibitions and made Adelisa feel uneasy. Feeling more uncomfortable in a situation she had a lack of comfort in already would have made the meeting unbearable. Her soft blue eyes landed on Alistair, wondering what he thought of all this.

Praetor looked at Morven. "I hunted him through three hosts. Hosts can act independent but Dracula can take over at any moment. Generally though he waits until the body is, if he's not fully grounded he escape in to others much easier. The last host... Well I behead and drove a stake threw his heart. It took Lucian, me, and handful humans who had discovered him. None of them made it back, I told the story to there children years later and thus we have the book Dracula."

He looked to Alistair. "I know of three ways to make him leave that body, either Lucian becomes human once more. We make Dracula fear enough for his safety to move to another host, or we kill Lucian. As none of those options are really useful at this moment I called this meeting."

Turning back to Morven he spoke in her native tongue, even getting the accent and old dialect right. "I speak your language, you do not need to translate unless it for the others." He turned back to the entire table with a straight face.

Beatrix wondered why they didn't just kill the boy, if Dracula was so dangerous to have around. She didn't dare speak her thoughts aloud though, most of the room already found her heartless enough. Trixy also wondered why the Kingstons feared Dracula so much. They were a vampire clan so full of self-loathing, you'd figure they'd worship a vampire who ate and killed it's own kith and kin. Perhaps they didn't hate their undead predatory life as much as they let on. Beatrix finally spoke, "Become human once more? And just how does one go about that, Praetor?" Was there some secret cure that no one but Praetor knew about, or was he just spouting off useless impossible solutions to the problem.

Mithias exhaled and pressed his fingers together. This was quite an interesting dilemma two clans had decided to engage upon together. One vampire was possessed and another loved him. Such a beautiful and binding thing was the power of love.

The Kingstons had always been gracious. They spared human and vampire life alike and even hosted for those that were opposed to their strict beliefs. Certainly they did not want to kill one of their own family. Mithias sympathized and inwardly longed that their patience and mercy were more common traits.

"It seems there is an inherent flaw in simply destroying the hosts of Dracula. He is prepared for that, having demonstrated his ability to change hosts several times now. I would consider imprisonment as an alternative, isolating the host from potential transmission, but I assume a jump would be just as difficult to avoid while trying to seal the host away... for eternity.

Perhaps we should approach this more scientifically. Dracula's current being is either a psychic entity or a soul-based one, such as one of your ghosts, Praetor. There are among our kind those who have powerful gifts in these domains. Has it been tested? ... My maker was one such vampire, having enough power to completely control another mind, even several of them at once. I spent centuries building a tolerance to such invasion. However, a psychic assault might be enough to destroy Dracula, or remove him from another vampire, if that is Dracula's basis. I don't know if I could find my sire, unfortunately.

If instead Dracula is more of a ghost, well, that would be your department, Praetor."

Theo smirked at Jareth as they walked the dimly lit streets of New York. He didn't know where the families were and he could care less. He was alive and ready to take on the night. He looked at Jareth and said "where, oh where, would precious young blood be?" He wondered what good night activity they had in this city. Obviously he was looking for fun and destruction, but he hadn't been out of hiding in over 60 years. He had his minions do the work of kidnapping for him. Now, he was out and this was all new to him.

Beatrix:

"Well, our best bet is probably to try to find your sire, or another elder vampire with psychic abilities." Trixy shifted in her seat, if only she were older, more powerful, she could be the solution to this problem. "I could get into Lucian's head easily enough, maybe even be able to alter his thoughts and actions. But Dracula is far too old and powerful for me to get in a mind battle with." It hurt her pride to admit that her abilities were weak against vamps that are older than her, and she was sure Praetor would enjoy that bit of knowledge...

Jareth:

"Precious?" Jar asked Theo and swept his fingers underneath his chin. "Well the most innocent and precious will be home sleeping in their beds, but we might be able to find some young blood engaging in the city's night life. Ever been to a rave club, old man?" He asked in a bit of a taunt.

Theo chuckled and said "I haven't been out in over 60 years! Obviously I have absolutely no clue what a rave is." He looked around and realized just how old he was. His entire life, he always felt young and free; but now he felt all his past injuries, all the things weighing him down, all of his past digressions coming to light. He felt old. No other way to put it.

Praetor nodded to each idea and sighed. "Destroying him would simply mean putting the rest of you at risk. Especially you younger vampires, very few are... Immune to his control, I am thanks mostly to century of study and my control over spectral beings." He pulled out a very old looking book his pocket, a journal of sorts perhaps. "I collects notes on others who have killed him, all were thousand years old or more when they accomplished the feat. Many had help, yet all of them state Dracula survived. At times it was as a ghost as he had no form waiting for a poor vampire to stumble across him. Yet at others point he would hide in the mind of others waiting centuries to reveal himself. He see's to mix psychic and ghostly abilities, meaning those two groups of vampires are generally immune." He shut the book carefully laying on the table.

"So we will need Mithias... And my sire. You all know I am Roman my sire however..." He glanced at Morven. "Is one or was a native of Ireland. Auria and I were named Praetors and ordered to secure everything past Hadrian's wall, we were winning, crushing every native we found. Then we came upon something that to this day baffles me, an army of vampires. Thrice the of our army they fell upon us, they all hailed from different tribes. As the lines collapsed I ran out and fought there leader one on one... He was massive, a giant of a man. We battled for and fought I cut off his head and drove the shaft of spear threw his heart. Yet I lay dying, the last soldier on the field the rest had run or died." He shifted a little as if this was the first time he'd told this story. "I could barely keep my eyes open but a man approached, he spoke in the tongue of the Celt yet bore no tattoos over even a clan name. They called him the man of gifts, he approached me smiling. Opening his mouth he was my sire."

Praetor hand gripped his sword tightly, he looked down as if suddenly taking notice and sighed. "I have tried to learn more traveled the world a dozen times and all I have are whispers. Yet I know that when I awoke I saw vampires and perhaps Lycans to accompanying him." He sat down. "My only lead is the clan of Lycan's I saw with him, they all had two stars and full moon tattooed on there backs. What I do now is that my power is the same as his, however his dwarfs mine." He finished with a sigh.

Praetor and Auria looked at each other nodding, they had shared stories very recently. Auria bowed to the elder Morven though she knew the women detested them. "I was also turned that day. By another group me and several other who escaped the battle. I thought it might have just been punishment but you say that you didn't turn any means that the vampire who sired Praetor may have had others at the field. One's who turned me and most of my fellows. I know that vampire who turned us were not from your home. They were barbarians from the east above Rome, they traveled with the wolves as if they were kin of sorts." She sat down and Praetor rose.

"What ever we do killing Lucian does not help the cause we can only confine him keep a close eye on him. As much as it pains me to say this, the Blackmoores would be better prepared to face him. The Kingstons are not a large clan while you are. Your numbers could stall him long enough for stronger vampires to take him down, it would also mean it's your best interest if he didn't die... After all Alistair would be the perfect target for him. A clan leader with strength, if he remained here... Well Klaus has no defense and that Greek is as strong as I am and has a lot qualms about violence.

Beatrix:

The hairs at the back of her neck stood up at the mere mention of wolves. Trixy held no greater hatred than that which she held towards lycanthropes. Vile beasts, devoid of morals or honor - not that she really possessed any herself - but, she abhorred them none-the-less. It was they who took the one true love of her life away, her better half, her soulmate, her sire. Francis... his face was still so fresh in her memory, a wound that never really healed, it just left her bleeding for centuries. Trixy flashed Alistair a look that showed both her discomfort and hatred of the direction the conversation was taking. If this led to having to work with the wolves, she was so out. She would rather burn her new home to the ground before commingling with mutts.

Jareth:

"60 years? Shit, I haven't even been alive that long..." Jar said in surprise, he felt like a mere child around all of the other vampires in this city. That being said, he was certain that he could match, and surpass, any of them in terms of wit. Age is just a number, after all. "Well, I'm gonna show you a real good time then. Make you forget all about that broad..." Jareth had a broad he needed to forget about too. A beautiful raven-haired broad, with skin like porcelain, and eyes like glaciers. Jar pulled out a few tabs of O-neg from his pocket and popped one in his mouth before offering one to Theo. "Pre-game?" he asked, and when Theo gave him a questioning look, he explained "Pre-game, it's like partying a little bit before going to the actual party. Gets you loosened up and stuff."

Theo nodded and took the little tablets. It wasn't his first time trying to be numb with Jareth's experiments, but the mention of Adelisa made him a bit… bitter. When he swallowed the little tablets, his knuckles fisted. He cracked his neck and sighed, the drug working wonders on his thoughts. His mind went to a certain kind-hearted brunette and he gritted his teeth. He remembered when she would play with the little slaves that fed the vampires with a more… youthful taste.

He looked back at Jareth and smirked softly. "Loose enough?" he said in a cocky manner. It was hard to keep his mind away from the Blackmoores. They took what was his and the whore he kidnapped was back in their hands. He had nothing to get back at them.