The white light that emitted from the computer screen illuminated Olivia's already pale face. Her blue eyes scrolled over the email, taking in the bits of information that were important. After she had finished reading the email, she sighed and clicked the little red X at the stop of the screen. Still no word about Ricky. She was starting to get worried. V shook her head and leaned back in her chair. The chair that Ricky should have been sitting in as head of the family by now. This was a young vamps job. She was too old for this. After sitting still for a period of time, the computer screen went black. Still, the vampire did not move.

After sitting in the dark for awhile, the all to recognizable feeling of thirst mixed with hunger tickled her throat and clawed at her stomach. She checked her watch. 9:30 PM. The clubs would be filling up soon with some pretty blood donors. She rose from behind the desk and exited to the hall way. The house was quiet. The rest of the family members must have been out and about doing their jobs or hunting already. Damn. I hate hunting alone. She thought to herself as she descended the stairs. As she was entering the parlor, she heard a noise coming from the garage behind the house. Maybe that's Jack. She thought as she headed in the direction the noises were coming from.

David looked over the neon haze of the clubbing district in north San Francisco. The noise and momentum of the night was tugging at his curiosity as he took one last drag from his cigarette and cast it to the sidewalk. It had been about a month since he had been in the public space. There was a certain strict protocol he needed to follow to make sure he wasn't discovered. He figured after a month of silence the Agency wouldn't be looking into his case with any major degree of scrutiny.

"Just another fucking door-kicker killed on the job." David imagined they would eventually pen down. The whole process felt reminiscent of those times when he and his team would be dropped into the middle of some horrible arse-end country that usually ended with 'stan'. He couldn't help but think of that five minute window after the helicopter disappeared into the night sky and the noise it kicks up faded away. A cold and eerie silence would follow as they faced out and waited to see if they were compromised.

In this case, San Francisco was his new area of operations, and the helicopter was a shitty convertible he stole at a truck stop. That golden five minutes was equivalent to a month of studying the night life of the city from afar. This was the area that Sofia was investigating. This is where she vanished.

David had made a note of the grand attire of wankery that most people wore when they were 'out on the town' but he could only really muster some slim dark blue jeans, brown dress shoes and belt, a light dress shirt and a blue blazer for practical purposes. This was the limit of modern twatiness he could tolerate. What he would give for some board shorts, a singlet and "flip flops" as the yanks called them.

With hands delved deep into his pocket he sampled the atmosphere of the crowds outside each of the clubs in the district before choosing one at random to get into. After a short stint in the lineup he was inside and navigating his way to the nearest bar counter to compete in the hustle and bustle for a drink.

Jack sat in his small office tucked into the corner of the workshop, feet up on his desk scrolling through Instagram on his phone. He'd finished his last job an hour or so ago, replacing a clutch that one of the Vamps had trashed in one the many cars in the Abascas fleet, & had nothing much else to do. As the time hit 9:30 pm Jack peered out of his office out into the shop and satisfied that nothing else was coming in decided that it was quitting time. Quickly doing a once over of the shop to make sure everything was where it should be Jack switched the lights off and headed for the exit. No sooner had he set foot outside the door though did a Corvette appear round the corner, one Vamp pushing it & another inside steering it. Smoke was pouring from beneath the hood. Jack sighed heavily. Looks like he wasn't going home after all.

"What the hell did you do it?" He asked as the car stopped in front of him. "Dunno, it just went bang," said the Vamp climbing out of the car. The other one had quickly bolted once the car was where it needed to be, clearly wanting to be anywhere but there. Jack shook his head. About as an intelligent a reply as he normally got. "Just push it in" he instructed, still shaking his head as he pressed the button to open the garage shutter door & stepping through when it was sufficiently open enough. The stricken Corvette was pushed in shortly after & Jack dismissed the Vamp with a wave of his hand. "Let's see what the damage is then," he sighed as he popped the hood & lifted it up to reveal the V8 engine beneath - or what was left of it in this case. Smoke still pouring out, oil everywhere and quite a large hole in the side of the block. "Great." Jack muttered. "There goes my night."

The sun was at last setting over San Francisco. While for many it was time to experience the night life and get away from the daily duties… it was also a time for the world’s true alpha predators to come out, free from the burden of the sun. In a warehouse located in the ports of Oakland, a small crowd had gathered. These men varied in appearance but each one had a certain look in their eyes, a certain ferocity. They waited patiently, in silence, each one preforming some task to keep themselves entertained. One played with a handgun, taking mock shots as if to simulate practice, another doing the same with an assault rifle. If it wasn’t a weapon they were messing with, they were then either reading records located on a tablet or counting a wad of cash in their hands. Suddenly the silence was broken by the sound of a roaring engine as the main door to the warehouse opened. The men glanced at each other and stood up straight as they eyed the vehicle that arrived, a black Bugatti Chiron… they all knew what that meant.

He had arrived.

The sports car cruised into the warehouse, avoiding the various wooden crates inside and the other parked cars. When the car turned off, there was an eerily silence as a man stepped out. They all bowed at his presence however while one uttered a phrase. “Welcome Lord Dragos.”
Dragos eyed the assembled men as he urged the men to move. “Rise” and so they did. Dragos paced back and forth examining each of the assembled individuals as the men stared straight ahead, they knew not to make eye contact, not yet. The head vampire then stood at the center and raised his arms and with an amused smirk spoke again, this time his tone a bit more relaxed. “Welcome to San Francisco.”

The time was around 9:30 as Dragos sat in the back of a Cadillac escalade, his eyes closed as he thought over the meeting from earlier. Back in the east coast there was a certain freedom, knowing without a doubt he was the King of New York. But this was a different side of the country, with different rules and different faces. From information he previously received, he was surprised the city hadn’t torn itself apart considering how many rival families had gathered in this city.

The escalade had reached its destination, and Dragos emerged taking in the atmosphere of Northern San Francisco.The crowds, the traffic, the view... it all vaguely reminded him of home. As Dragos walked the streets it was easy for him to attract attention, women gossiped at the sight of such a man, wondering who he was while men looked in envy though admitingly the head vampire was physically imposing. As the vampire positioned himself to enter one of the clubs, his eyes focused into what lay inside. For a vampire to enter a territory into a rival’s territory unannounced was likely grounds for a confrontation but Dragos knew what he was doing…