"Yo. Dude, You three coming or what?" Katya was almost out the door, feigning drunkenness, or even a touch of illness, to excuse her escape as a casual, human maneuver. But the aire was counterproductive if anything. The point of no return had been crossed. Suddenly, as she turned her head back to the exit, she ran into something rather solid.

When I say solid, I don't mean it was like a wall or even a blunt weapon swung at her head. It was a body, made of muscle and curves. Katya's small frame bounced off, back into the nightclub. The door outside became obscured as a black t-shirt came into focus in front of her with the saying, "Vampire Lives Matter," printed across it. 

A vampire with pale blue eyes and spiked blonde hair glared at her from above. "Leaving so soon, little miss? Oh I don't think so. You see, none of us are falling for your tricks. We know you're not drunk. We can hear your heartbeats you know. Have a seat." Placing a hand on her chest, mindless of her cleavage, the vamp marched her backward indignantly, until her legs kicked a chair and she stumbled into the seat. 

Roman suddenly found himself flanked with some kind of gun poking him in the back. A sinister voice seeped over his shoulder, "Don't move a muscle if you don't want to be on the menu."

Allison was also grabbed and hauled over to where Katya was being grilled.

The blonde vampire seemed to command some degree of respect around here. A cheap bumper sticker adorned the pillar behind him, bearing the symbol of two red bars in an "equals" sign. He looked at Katya with disgust... and a bit of sadistic delight. "You came looking for trouble in the wrong place, 'hunter.' This is a vampire club. We all heard you foreigners talking, and we're sorely disappointed. Not only are you bigoted haters, but you're stupid enough to try your medieval, oppressive bullshit in the middle of our club. That was a big mistake." 

The music kept playing, but the scene was going down at the front of the club. The Soldier group was surrounded. 

Another black-haired woman vampire in stilted vinyl knee-high boots strutted past Roman with an appraising glance, then glared at Allison and put her hands on her hips. She spoke in a Romanian accent. "Do you know what we vampires refer to you as 'hunters?' ... We call you, 'fair game.'" She grinned. Vampires apparently took care of their own problems here in the UK. 

Meanwhile, Mithias found himself standing off with two younger vampires, a man and a woman. They stared at him suspiciously, cautious about testing his motives, or his ferocity. They stood between him and his human allies, still a degree more respectful of one of their own kind. They began questioning him in a mocking fashion. "So, you're with these scum blood-bags? What are you, a pet?"

Mithias was unarmed, but could have become armed fairly quickly if he needed to. There were plenty of knives, pistols, chains, wood, and the like within arms reach. He backed away slowly. The vampires before him were less than half his age, actually, and judging by their speech and their clothing, they were probably rank fledglings. He really didn't want to have to fuck them up. 

Mattias was basically left untouched in the middle of all this.

The taunts meant nothing to Mithias and rolled off him like water off a duck's back. He began to attempt to diffuse the situation as he judged the distance between himself and Katya. He lifted his hands in a calming motion. "Please forgive my friends. This is not what it looks like..." 

Just then, a scream rang out on the communicators in everyone's ears. Sonja...

Oh shit.