---

---

_{♀ ♀
ℳ𝒶𝓎 16 9:00 -> 9:47 𝒜ℳ
𝒢𝓎𝓂 -> 𝒯𝒽ℯ ℒℴ𝒻𝓉
ℐ𝓃𝓉ℯ𝓇𝒶𝒸𝓉𝒾𝓃ℊ 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 the order, herself, Leone, Milo and Roommates @Altered Tundra@TootsiePop@NeoAJ
♀♀}

---

---

Each word added fuel to the punches thrown at the punching bag. The frustration from Khione was palpable as she bounced between her feet, breaths coming out in short exhales while she repeated the one, one, two, three combo as she circled the bag.

Obviously, the week was a long shot from being the worst out of all 1,147 weeks she’d been alive. Regardless of that, it was definitely getting up the ranks to be the most annoying. With her luck, the usually ample options of burning off that annoyance were limited to whooping the punching bags’ ass since her favorite people were nowhere to be fucking found.



The thought of being avoided, whether purposeful or not, combined with the sound of her phone ringing was enough fuel for her to roundhouse kick a hole in the bag all while releasing a war cry of her pent up sexual frustrations.

“Khione that was a bra-“
“Yeah, yeah, my bad. I’ll bring you the cash tonight after I’m off work.” The reply was as swift as her retreating form, the only other sound from her was a grunted ‘see you later’ to the owner before she pushed out of the glass doors. The phone rang again, this time the distinctive tone of a facetime call played and elicited a groan. why couldn’t she have a morning to herself to throw a fit? Taking a deep breath to extinguish the annoyance that lingered she declined the facetime and answered a second after the phone rang for a normal call,

“Hello Oni, I thought you were going to ignore my call again.” The familiar distortion feigned a hurt tone, but Khione knew better, even through the hard work of a program, she knew who was on the other end of the call.

“Yeah, I thought about it. What do you want?” Khione replied in a well practiced tone that held just enough contempt to make her displeasure clear without crossing any lines. She knew better than to cross those lines.

“Be cautious child… I’m simply just following up on our last discussion about those interesting people you keep in your company. Especially that human girl, oh what was her name, hmm… Natalia was it? The one who lost her family to the ‘Bonekeeper’?”

Khione’s brisk gait froze a moment receiving an irritated grunt from someone passing by her as their shoulder roughly hit her own. The mention of her roommates’ name usually wouldn’t have elicited this sort of response, but if the Order was inquiring about you, it rarely meant anything favorable. The last time she was brought up in the conversation it was for testing purposes, the Order wanted Khione to present the new recruit for their trials, but she wasn’t ready for that.

“I told you all last time that she’s not ready, we ha-“

“You have until July 8th to bring her to us or we issue a termination. That should be enough time for the best of Genesis, no?” There was a taunting quality to the distortion, they were testing her patience, and she wouldn’t feed into their games. Silence was her only answer, her feet moved against the cement again carrying her towards The Loft as the conversation changed from Natalia to the other hunters around the five boroughs.

Khione navigated the conversation cautiously wanting to avoid the topic of a certain hunter who had been causing problems for her and barely contained a sigh of relief as the conversation was reaching its end.

“We will be forwarding some assignments, make sure one makes its way to Set, we’ll be checking in again. All for glory.”

“Glory for all.” Khione’s reply was cut short as the line ended just as she faced the door to The Loft. For a moment she stood with her forehead pressed against the cool metal, the bustling of the street was relaxing for once, a welcomed distraction to the hot-headed girl. Slowly opening her eyes she glanced down at her phone going to her conversations, there was no way she was going to be able to keep the God of Destruction high and dry from the action any longer. Of course they knew her game.

To: Pyscho
Envy tonight 9pm, Platinum Room, wear something hot.

The gym was not going to cut it anymore, and as much as she hated texting the Zeno’s lap dog first, somethings were more important than her pride. Sex was one of those things.

To: Asshole
Did you finally go and die? Or are you avoiding me? We can’t be fuck ‘buddies’ without the fucking.

With that out of the way she slid her phone in the pocket of her shorts and entered into the only place she called home, making sure to announce her return to her loving family’, “DARLINGS IM HOMEEEE~“

---

_{🗡️
May 16 9:30AM->9:50 AM
The Loft
Interacting with: Khione @Hoekage, Becky [NPC]
🗡️}

---

It was too early. It had to be too early. There was no other reason for the crustiness in the eyes. The quick rollover to bury the head in the pillow. The taste of cigarettes and Baccardi 151 in the mouth. It all added up. It was a Saturday morning after all. There was absolutely no need to do anything. Just roll over and tell the day to fuck off and.... shit. Someone else was here in this bed.

That quick realization was enough to jostle Natalia Pereira out of her slumbering state. She did her best not to bolt up immediately, lest she alert the other person in the bed that there was activity. As she did her best to pry her eyes open to assess the situation, she tried to remember what had happened last night. All right, all right, what did I do again? It was an off-night. We weren't booked, so I decided to drink. Went to Envy, made sure no one getting any ideas with Mina, talked up... She looked down at the long-haired head still resting on the pillow next to her. Nat craned her neck to get a look but couldn't tell if she inadvertently broken her own loft rule or not. ...someone. Brought them home, and I'm gonna guess since there are clothes all over the floor we had some fun. Ugh. She gave her body a once over to make sure there weren't any bite marks or anything. From a cursory glance, there was nothing fresh. Just the scars from the nights accompanying Khione out when she was learning about the trade. All right, so I probably didn't do anything too stupid. Only one way to make sure though.

Nat slowly eased her way out of the bed, the cold floor offering another wake up call on her bare feet. She shook it off and moved over to the window, which currently had its blinds drawn to prevent as much sunlight as possible from getting into the main bedroom of the loft. That was going to change soon. Nat quickly shifted the blinds to arouse her unknown bedmate from their slumber, either via pain or ... well less pain.

The person in the bed groaned slightly before sitting up and rubbing her eyes. Well, the lack of screaming would indicate that I did not bed a vampire, so that's a plus. The lack of clothes indicated that Nat had not broken the loft's "No Guys" rule, which was a relief. Guess I would have remembered if a guy actually managed to talk his way into my pants, since that never happens. As the girl with the dyed purple hair shook her head, Nat looked down at her previous night's companion. "Hey you, sorry to offer the early wake-up service, but I got stuff to do, and I figure it's best I don't leave you alone in here to nick all my shit. So you gotta hit the road."

"Already?" The young woman looked around before grabbing her bra off the floor. "Shit, I figured you'd at least get me a coffee or something before you kicked me out."

Nat thought for a second. If her little sister wasn't up and about making noise at this time, it likely meant she was out during her usual Saturday morning café run. That meant she would have her usual tasty treats coming soon. But there would be nothing for this girl. "Hey look..." She was drawing a blank on this girl's name. Did it start with a B? Why would she be with a girl whose name started with a B? "...Britney."

"Becky!"

"Really? OK. Well, whatever, Becky. Look, last night was great and all. And if you need the money for a cab, I got ya covered. But I have some important stuff to do. You know how music labels are, right? Of course you don't." Nat grabbed her own pair of jeans off the floor, sliding them on as she searched for a top. "But hey, you come to Envy enough, you'll probably see me there again at some point. We can hit things off again then." She punctuated this last notion with a wink. She didn't need to know how rare it was for her to be at Envy and not be working.

"OK sure. I have money for a cab. And... you have my number, right? I mean, we did exchange numbers?"

Nat subtly rolled her eyes. "Sure, doll. I'll be in there under Dagger. Look me up when you are back in New York." Odds were Becky was one of those commuter-type party girls. In from Babylon or Massapequa or something stupid on Long Island. Nat found Becky's pants on the floor and tossed them to the girl in order to hasten the expedition process.

"DARLINGS I'M HOMEEEE~"

That sound meant that the clock had run out on Becky's chance to leave without attracting attention. Nat sighed and slid a worn t-shirt over her body. "Well, sounds like you do get to meet a roommate on the way out. Consider yourself lucky, Bex."

"OK, well I think I have everything..."

"Well, if you don't, I'll mail it to you. Let's go."

Natalia quickly ushered the still groggy woman out of the master of the three-bedroom loft that was a steal at the price they were paying for. She had hoped Khione had ventured into the living room area, but nope. Still in the entry way. That meant she would see the results of last night's visit to Envy.

"Oh, hey Khi," Natalia said non-chalantly. "Don't mind the young lady here. She was just leaving. Isn't that right, doll? Becky made a move to answer, but Nat cut her off. "Yes. Yes she is. All right talk to you later, doll." Nat quickly pushed what she could only assume were Becky's shoes into her hands and sent her out the door, locking it behind the one-night stand. She grinned at the veteran vampire hunter. "So, uh, I think Mina is out getting the usual, so you know, I hope you're hungry and in the mood for a recharge after... I'm going to assume you were out beating something up? Something inanimate at this time in the morning?"

❦ Time ❦ Evening, May 15th ❦ Location ❦ The Bar ❦ Interactions ❦ Jack Graves (NPC), Octavius Zeno (@Hoekage)

To: Tavi Zeno
Delivered: 4 hours ago
Like everything else here, the drinks at the bar are free too. Come check it out!

To: Tavi Zeno
Delivered: 2 Hours Ago
Hey. Where've you been?

Two Bloody Marys (extra bloody, how she liked it) in, Andrie's phone chimed from her bag. Based on the ring tone, she could tell it was her work phone. Never a fan of letting her work life mix with her personal life, Andrie had two phones she fielded texts from. Her work phone only had generic ring tones for her clients, whereas her personal phone had ring tones by contact, so she could tell who was messaging or calling without even looking at her phone.

She almost missed it, as she was busy flirting with the bartender, a cute human with a sheepish smile and curly brown hair. Not that she expected it to go anywhere, but she was bored, and had yet to find anyone she recognized who wasn't already preoccupied. It had been two hours since she'd texted Octavius off of her personal phone. Of course, he had yet to respond, so now she was drinking alone, like a loser. Typical Tavi. What was so important that he hadn't checked his phone all night? He hadn't even unlocked his phone screen to take a picture? If he had her notifications muted she'd personally break that pretty face of his. She contemplated sending another text, but in the end her sense of dignity won out and she took the phone off the bar and put it back in her handbag. Maybe she'd be less tempted that way. She fished around in her bag and pulled out her work phone, protected by a sleek, professional black case.

Most of the contacts in her work phone were of Zeno blood or Zeno affiliates, seeing as they were the ones who gave her her assignments. There was the occasional unaligned person, but no Artois or Tepes blood or followers. Andrie imagined that her employers wouldn't love her working with their political competition, and after all it had taken to get her where she was today, she wasn't too keen on crossing them. At any second, her legs could be swept out from under her, and she knew that. Either way, there wasn't much reason to stray from the Zeno family. She had friends there, and her employers always made sure the money made its way into her bank account.

The drink in her hand was set back on the bar with a rough clink, a little bit sloshing over the sides. Stray drops ran down the glass and soaked into the napkin she'd put the drink on. Of course on the day she was invited to an all expenses paid trip to the Vampire king's own private island she was ditched, and then had to take an assignment. This was supposed to be fun, but right now it was anything but.

From: Robert Price
Received: 1 minute ago
'There is a Jack Graves at your location. He needs some convincing to close a deal with one of my businesses. Show Mr. Graves some Zeno hospitality.'
Attachment: 1 Image

Andrie couldn't help but mirthlessly snicker at that. It was a cold sound, not friendly in the slightest. The bartender turned around, a question on his face, but she waved him off. Hospitality. Her cold blue grey eyes narrowed at the phone screen as if it had personally offended. Calling what they were asking of her hospitality was an almost offending attempt at subtlety or modesty. Rarely did Andrie get a request for an advisory conversation over drinks, or a round or two in the boxing ring as opposed to in bed. It wasn't that she disliked her job, Andrie had no qualms about servicing her clients. She slept around easily, knowing each and every client was screened thoroughly before sent her way. How they got them to agree to that, she wasn't sure, and she wasn't concerned. There wasn't any danger to her job, but Andrie did feel she had more to offer than convincing pillow talk. It wasn't her place to say so, though. The offers were never demands, more firm requests, which made Andrie feel a little better about things. Nevertheless, she always did as she was asked, which made her one of the Zenos' most frequent employees.

It did help that Andrie was also very good at her job. To put it simply, it was hard to want to say no to what Andrie asked, especially with a bit of convincing. The Zenos definitely took notice of this, and eventually none of them were above calling in favors from her, whether with a repeating client or with a fresh face. Andrie had a way of keeping them coming back, for seconds, thirds, and so on.

As if sensing her hesitation, Andrie's phone chimed again. The notification was from a different app, the one she managed her transactions from. $800 had been transferred directly to her bank account from a user called 'Don't Make Me Ask Again'.

To: Robert Price
Delivered: Now
Classy. I'm on it.

❦ Time ❦ May 16th, 7:00am → 9:40am ❦ Location ❦ Jack Graves' Lodging → The Grand Hall ❦ Interactions ❦ Jack Graves (NPC)

When she woke up, there was no confusion as to where she was, or what had happened last night. The 'day after confusion' was for rookies, and she was anything but. She normally didn't stay after, but she had been so exhausted, and he'd asked her to stay. It sounded like he would beg her if he had to, and Andrie really didn't want to deal with that. Besides, she was unemotional, not heartless.

Now, though, she was kind of regretting it. His arm was wrapped around her torso, and she was pulled up against his chest, her head tucked under his chin. It was surprisingly warm and comfortable. She almost wanted to stay like that a little bit longer, keep the fake feeling of intimacy and trust. But, she had little time to enjoy the moment. She needed a shower, and she wanted to be out of here before he woke up. She'd successfully convinced him to close the deal, so her job here was done. She gently disentangled himself from his limbs, rolling off the bed and grabbing the handbag and shoes she'd tucked out of the way under the bed.

A hot shower later, she pulled on last night's clothes and returned to her room. She needed to change before breakfast with the king this morning. She blow dried her hair, put on her makeup, and grabbed a blue dress she'd hung when she'd arrived. She made it to the Grand Hall just as people were beginning to sit down. She stationed herself at one of the Zeno tables near the sides of the room.

When Tavi arrived, late as Andrie expected, she made a point of not looking at him. Besides, Dmitri Tepes looked like he was getting ready to address the invitees. Maybe they'd figure out what they'd been called here for. She couldn't imagine it was just for pleasantries. With a short speech, he disappeared from the hall, tailed by one of his brothers.

As far as she was concerned, Andrie would land on her feet. She already had her own place, and as long as she could keep working for the Zenos, she had a pretty lucrative job. But, she wasn't quite sure she was the kind of person who would be the head of the a Royal House. She'd never even imagined she'd have this opportunity. Did she even want to be a Royal House ruler?

Andrie settled on figuring it out later. Part of her wanted to text Octavius about how crazy this whole idea was, but he had yet to text her back since last night. No way was she going to text him first. Was it too early to start drinking?

Now that she thought about it, though, this party would be a perfect opportunity to meet new people and potential allies. She scanned the room, trying to see if she recognized anyone besides the Zenos.

---

Twirling a well worn joker card between her well manicured fingers, Avyanna watched with curiousity as the others began to file into the room; all vampires apparently, some of them seemingly disheveled from the party from the night before, one she had chose not to partake in, for the sake of...learning. Information gathering to be more exact. Or just spying if one would want to be more blunt. Of course, no matter what it was called, Avy had a goal, one that made this trip much more exciting. Now, fate had always been a touchy subject to some, but if this invintation wasn't destiny, she didn't know what was. It had basically carved the path forward, and all that was left to was for her to walk down it and watch the world burn behind her. Though that was just a tad dramatic, even on her part.

Currently, she sat futher from the others, not wishing to draw attention to herself as she slowly peered across the room at each individual, her arms crossed, evaluating. She had learned about the houses some time ago, but to be honest, she couldn't care less about them nor their petty affairs with each other, but they happened to be important in the vampire hierarchy, and they had lasted some time throughout history, which happened to have bad reactions to those who were different. The history books proved it. Thus, she did owe them an ounce of respect; not to have any would just be rude at that point, but that didn't mean Avyanna had to bow down to them of course, the very thought of giving her freedom to a "King" or taking orders from someone at all (Ha! Ridiculous!) gave her chills, and a very strong feeling to kick something in anger. But she refrained. In some strange, twisted sense, she actually felt bad for those who belonged to a house; they were figuratively trapped. If they failed this task bestowed on them, great dishonor would follow, well, judging by this latest crew that had just entered the room, they didn't seem to care much about dishonor, let alone how they appeared, though she had to give them props for doing so.

There hadn't been a moments hesitation when accepting to come to the island, this place was extremely luxurious and wealth was definitely not on her side, a more tempting offer couldn't have come. This was her chance. Her chance to show them how much of a bitch she could truly be. She hadn't ever wanted to get caught up in this vampire bullshit; she couldn't have been happier being a mortal human with aging problems. That's what made it fun! The risk of doing everything you possibly can in the smallest amount of time was everything! Do you know how awfully boring it is when you're immortal? The stiffness becomes unbearable and you become stuck in a never ending loop as your mind wastes away in a dark room because god forbid if you even look at the sun you'll combust into ashes! But now-now everything has changed, and for the better too. There will be destruction. There will be chaos. Even if she died after all of it, that's even better. She'd have left her mark, bite mark if you will. And they have it all set up, it was basically hers for the taking.

Now, what was even more interesting was the fact that Daddy Dmitri was cutting everyone off, forcing them into independence and to fend for themself in this cold, cruel world. At this, a small smile began to spread across her lips in amusement, and luckily for her, Avy had always been on her own so this wasn't too bad, but the same couldn't necessarily be said for some of the others that crowded the room, especially the three men who'd walked in basically late, by the look of their faces. Though there were others that looked as if they already had it in the bag, such as Kasania, (Was that her name? Perhaps.) whose stature gave her a much more confident, if not a bit imposing, look. But who caught her attention the most was the gentlemen dressed in black. Now he seemed interesting.

As Dmitri finished his very "inspiring" speech, Avy leaned her head back, taking it all in. Given the circumstance, she could possibly try to create a house of her own, but her status in the vampire world was close to nothing, especially not belonging to a house of her own, but creating an alliance would be so much easier. Chuckling, she shook her head, now curious how the others would take it. All that was left was for her to play along as well. Might as well get involved, or everything would be pointless.

Standing up and letting the chair scratch against the ground, Avy walked over to where the group was, and clearing her throat. Ahem. So every man for himself now, yes? Avyanna, but I go by Avy," giving a smile, greeting them.

---

Somewhere in New York || May 15th, Morning

Mel opened her eyes to the ceiling, glossing over it lazily. So she was at Pierre’s place again. With an expansive view of the upper east side, his flat was always a nice place to wake up in, though the man attached to it was a different story. Ever since she’d caught his eye at one of the soirees his wife held, he’d been smitten with her. Sure, she may have led him on a bit, but he was intelligent enough to understand what he was getting himself into the first night, especially when the fangs came out.

“Morning, Pierre.”

The man beside her on the bed flinched, opening his eyes with a peevish smile. “No fooling you, huh?”

“Not with a heart rate like that,” Mel said, turning onto her side. “Like what you see?”

“Yes,” Pierre breathed, pupils dilating.

Tugging at the edge of her lips, Mel rolled onto him, letting her weight sink down. As his breath hitched, her hair feathering over his chest, she kissed him, nipping and licking at his lip. She lapped up the slivers of blood she drew greedily, smirking as she avoided his attempts to deepen the kiss. Just as he leaned upwards, attempting to wrap his arms around her to get a better grasp of her, she pinned him down, grinding onto him.

“Stay,” she cautioned, drawing the word out playfully. Then, licking a trail down his jaw and onto his neck, Mel sank her fangs in, the salty skin giving easily to allow her to relish the warm essence of the life of the man moaning under her.

As she sucked away, she felt the tension drain out of Pierre, his strained muscles relaxing as the euphoria took over. While she’d be lying if she said she didn’t enjoy having complete power—complete dominion—over another person, she didn’t reap much satisfaction from biting human, especially one she’s bitten so many times. This utter lack of challenge was why she accepted the invitation. After all, when Dmitri fucking Tepes sent someone an invitation, refusal was hardly an option, or at least not for Mel when the guest list was brought into question.

After she’d had her fill, she unlatched herself, licking her fangs as she observed the blissed-out man below her, eyes glazed over as he smiled with half the correct muscles. Too easy, too simple, too predictable. But, a nice wallet and contact list.

“Perk up, big boy,” Mel said, sliding down over the developing layer of soft tissue around his abdomen.

---

---

Somewhere in New York || May 15th, Afternoon

Mel’s phone rang just as she was stepping out of Pierre’s car for the fourth time that day. New York was busy around her, a mixture of casual, business, and high fashion around her as the day went on. Ahead was her destination: another street of high-end boutiques made accessible with Pierre’s credit card. So she was manhandling him a little, but hey, he’d had a good morning. The only loser was Pierre’s chauffeur, who was forced to drive circles in search of a parking space, not knowing if he’d find one before Mel finished her tour, and even he was getting paid.

“Hi Daddy,” Mel said, her voice sing-song and dripping honey.

“Dochurka.” Her father’s exasperation was clear across the phone, expressed in the minute strains and spaces in his voice and words.

“Yes Otets,” Mel said, pouting. That too was communicated, if her father was actually paying attention to the call. There was a difference there, with her father—as there often was. For the monarch of a family that touted black-and-white views, Semyon Vasiliev had an awful lot of grey about him, making him both easier and harder for Mel to deal with. “You called?”

“I am checking in with my second-youngest.”

“And she is alive and well, without the family fortune. Tell that to mother.”

“Armelle, dochurka, do not be too cross with her. She means well.”

“She means to marry me off,” Mel said, her smile dropping. “Otets, tell me you didn’t put her up to it.”

“I did not.”

The silence that followed wasn’t what Mel was looking for, and she let it stretch on until her father spoke again.

“Dochurka, are you sure you will not return to Russia?”

“Yes, Otets.” Waving off the lady attending to her, Mel made for the exit, her mood spoiled. The light air conditioning created a breeze as she exited, blowing her hair forwards. “And don’t bother reactivating my card—I don’t need it.”

Her father sighed, both of them knowing that she still expected it to be reactivated. This was how the game went: she would detach herself from her family financially for one, two, then three months, but eventually she’d fall back on them again. In a way, it was how she stayed a part of the family, even overseas. She’d contributed her fair share of the fortune, though mostly in the past, and nothing would change the fact that she was and always would be a Vasiliev.

This, however, was exactly the problem. ‘Dilly-dallying the days away’ was what her mother had called her current lifestyle, and Mel supposed she was right. Yet, she wouldn’t go back. She couldn’t, whether or not she was living on borrowed time; her younger sister was now receiving suitors, and it reflected poorly on the family if a younger daughter married before an older one, but Mel wasn't quite ready to settle down.

So, postpone she would, and as much as possible—or at least until after this weekend of fun and games at the Tepes’ expense.

“Anything else, Otets?”

“Armelle,” Semyon said, this time with a depth to his voice that wasn’t immediately decipherable. “I wish you the best.”

“Otets?” Mel asked, but a beep signalled the end of the call, leaving her to stare at her phone. Though maintained her pace, her heart was pounding: She’d rarely heard her father so conflicted. Did he know something she didn’t? She doubted it, especially considering that the Tepes event was so soon; her family wouldn’t dare interfere with her on Tepes property, and she was headed to the party later today.

She tucked her phone away, putting it down to paranoia. Rather than fretting over possibilities and inevitabilities, Mel was going to do what she did best: live in the present, and presently, she had a party to attend.

---

---

Tepes Private Island: The Grand Hall || May 16th, Morning

Mel was among the earlier crowd to the hall, having woken up at the same time she did every morning: early. At this point, her internal alarm was more of an incurable nuisance than a choice, albeit being helpful once in a while. Today was one instance she got to be thankful for the habit pounded into her by her upbringing, but her happy mood hadn’t lasted for long: Her bedmate, bless their unaging soul, was already gone. Though she wouldn’t admit it, Mel took a certain amount of pride in being the light sleeper—the person who woke first—and she was both miffed and surprised by the fact that she woke neither before them nor when they left.

This bit of annoyance, though, was what carried through as she arrived at the grand hall, taking a seat and watching the latecomers mill in behind her. Silently waiting as people were seated, Mel kept her eyes on the elders, watching their reactions as some drama unfolded at the royal table. While she understood their disapproval, she personally didn’t mind how the princes looked: clothing aside, there was hardly a problem. Besides, her own dress, low-cut and gold as it was, likely wouldn’t have made the cut for ‘royalty’ either, so she could partially sympathize.

A smile danced on her lips as she watched. Having accepted the invitation because of the Tepes’ guest list, she was glad to see that the Tepes had delivered: The previous night’s party, with its chaotic nature, failed to provide a comprehensive gathering of everyone of import, but Dmitri Tepes had succeeded. With the variety of people and power in the room, Mel had little doubt she’d stay entertained this weekend.

A royal throat-clearing started the entire affair off, and Mel listened, her eyes still ghosting over the family heads. Her attention, however, quickly fell on Dmitri alone as he reached the pivotal point in his speech. Suddenly, her parent’s actions made sense: Unable to convince her to rejoin them in Russia, they’d chosen to cast her out—or set her free, depending on which parent she was considering. But, somehow, Mel hated them even more for it; rather than letting her go, they’d tied her down with responsibility, with goals they’d chosen for her. Maybe she did want this, or maybe she didn’t. All she knew was that she didn’t want to compete on someone else’s terms. Her faux financial need for her parents had been her pledge of loyalty to her family, and if they thought she'd be helpless without them, they couldn’t be farther from the truth. While she spent her fair share of time for play, she’d been raised to spend the rest of it on work, and that she did.

That said, Dmitri’s challenge meant a lot more than just being fine financially. Allies and enemies, truces and rivalries—that was how houses were built. Now was the time to play her cards strategically and decisively. Who would she approach first, the former royals or the unlikely usurpers?

---

Time 7:47 to 9:40
Location From a private jet to the Grand Hall
Interaction with Beatrix de la Croix_@GhostMami

---

Seraphina was absentmindedly twirling red liquid in a crystal glass, sitting comfortably in the beige leather seat peering out into the night. She peered over the thick manila envelope, bearing the black wax seal of her father. It was of a peculiar design. For one it was square with lots of unmarked residue on all sides. It denoted a scroll at its vertical center. Flanked by a drop on its right and on the left, there was an intricate figure of a man holding a staff. This was Alexander’s personal seal. A seal that hasn’t been seen since 1902 when Alexander formally announced his retreat from the royal court and the vampiric world as a whole. A part of Seraphina wanted to tear open the envelope and spill out its content but her father’s orders were strict and he would not allow any deviation. A vampire of Seraphina’s age would’ve disregarded that command the second she was out of his sight but Seraphina knew better. No matter what she did, he would know. He always knew.

Instead, she was focusing on what knowledge her father did share with her. There was a meeting, a grand one. The king and queen had invited vampires from all families and some elders. He knew why though he preferred not to share it with her. It was a surprise after all. The only thing she had to worry about is the dossiers on all the vampires present. They were young but much older than her. She had to know them before she would land.

And know she did. She had begun with her own house: Tepes. There was Kasania, Niklaus and Valerian. Kasania was growing in her role as Tepes Princess. She was beautiful and successful. Like Seraphina, she worked with humans, though Kasania worked with police. To Sera, humans were humans. No matter if they wore blue or nothing at all. Sadly Kasania has been successful in stalling her marriage. Then there was Niklaus. An odd one out. While all children often have strained relationships with their parents, Niklaus had earned particular scorn from his mother. Finally, there was Valerian who, like his sister, had grown well into the role of Tepes Prince. The file lacked it but Seraphina remembered her father helping with a certain indiscretion. She wasn’t privy to many details: only that it concerned a woman.

Then there were the Artois girls. Both of them were exceptionally young. Younger than Sera even. Which meant they were easily manipulatable. Amelia, the heir, was as wild and free-thinking as an Artois ought to be. Though her continuing, public effort to make human and vampire-kind into equals was beginning to somewhat annoy the Tepes elder. The youngest of the two, Irene, was not a direct heir. Furthermore, she appeared to be quite a sheltered girl. Her dossier, compiled by a handful of quite capable PIs couldn’t find much on her.

Where Tepes and Artois had just a few flaws, Zeno was plagued by failure. Failure taking shape in Octavius, Tessa, and Dominic. Though it would appear there were vastly different reasons. Octavius was as charming as he was insufferable. A man that you could hate and love at the same time. Though there was a certain lack of grace in him. Tessa, for her part, wasn’t so bad. Greedy for knowledge but not much else. Seraphina despised her, even though she never met the woman. She despised the utter lack of hunger. Here was someone who always had what she wanted. Finally, there was Doctor Dominic Wells. Though the file made it quickly clear that he was very much a Zeno. While the first two were simply bored or graceless, he had utterly rejected everything Zeno stands for. Now he worked as a doctor of some clinic treating anything and anyone. Seraphina supposed it was meant to be honorable but she failed to see the point. Those that visited a clinic like his would wash up there again and again. Amounting to nothing at all. Why spend resources on them?

Now that she had memorized the dossiers by heart, she took her time to relax a little and see the stars as she flew through the night.

She arrived amid everyone else. Seraphina very much knew she wasn’t a vampire of note. Only her heritage might earn her some importance. That or her job. Outside she could hear the faint callings of her blackbirds. Enjoying the skies once more. The swirled around the grand hall. The walls were nigh non-existent, giving the birds a clear view inside it all. Eventually, they flew inside and settled high up in the rafters of the roof. Observing the gathering. Seraphina, for her part, took place far in a corner as she held the manila envelope close to her.

After the king’s speech, she felt stumped and surprised. To witness the creation of a new house, it felt like you could live a whole life, a vampiric one, without ever hearing of such a thing. Yet here she was. In watching it all unfold, standing on the sidelines. Hastily she opened the envelope of her father. Inside there was a long letter, explaining his intentions and her own powers. She was to represent him in this whole ordeal. Inside there was also a few letters. Yet, per his direct written orders, only one was to be sent as fast as possible. Seraphina took a particular letter and read the name: Mrs. Beatrix de la Croix. Written in gorgeous calligraphy with golden ink. Sealed by Alexander’s personal seal on jet black wax. Seraphina was shocked. She had seen the file of this vampire yet assumed her to be unimportant. A setback. Huginn came down from the rafters as Seraphina held the envelope up. The raven took it in his claws and flew upwards again until he neared Beatrix’s chair and came down quickly. Yet he gracefully landed right next to her plate and delivered the letter before he took towards the rafters again.

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Time 7:04 to 8:32
Location New York City - Saint Paul's Churchyard to Central Park
Interaction with Khione Crusch_@Hoekage

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Central Manhatten was a busy place. People moved like blood in a body. Packed together and always in a hurry to be someplace. There were a few places where they calmed down enough. Saint Paul’s Churchyard was one such place. A place where even Americans grew solemn. Alexander was always amazed by that ability as he entered the little yard. Ancient gravestones filled place haphazardly. Most of the names were weathered off. Few people walked the small, winding path. Alexander slowly approached an unremarkable grave near one of the few trees. The roots had recently been cut, as per his request joining the rather substantial donation. All done anonymously of course. He didn’t carry flowers. Instead, he placed a single, pitch black pebble on top of it and touched the grave for a moment as he closed his eyes. It was good to be back.

Minutes later he stepped out of the graveyard. His pocket was empty. All his small, little pebbles spread across most of the state of New York, on top of weathered graves, remote mountain tops and large, green meadows. With his duty to the dead completed, he proceeded towards Central Park. Where a most unfortunate amount of business was awaiting him.

Central Park was extremely different from Saint Paul’s. It was sprawling but painfully artificial. It chaffed against Alexander, who watched the boulders with disgust. Humanity was a terrible architect of nature, he concluded rather quickly. He followed the painfully pronounced paths towards the scene of the crime he was tipped off from. He reached the police line just in time to see the corpses being put in bags. His vampiric sight gave him greater details from this distance no human could hope to level. No matter how keen their eyesight was. The girl had a rather ungraceful wound in her neck. The weapon certainly wasn’t a blade or anything thin. The scene a bit further was even more gruesome. Burned flesh holding what appeared to have been his guts. A gruesome death to be sure. Though while everyone around him was both disgusted and morbidly curious, he couldn’t care to show anything. Instead, he examined the broken trees and bark. A pity. Trees were so much more valuable than humans. Alexander felt more kinship with those immortal wooden beings than with the walking blood bags.

As Alexander was examining the bodies, some post arrived at The Loft. There was a registered letter for Miss Khione Lee Crusch. Her full name was written in gorgeous calligraphic font with golden ink. The letter itself was sealed with pitch black wax bearing the Tepes family seal.

Inside there was a letter made from expensive, thick parchment paper. It was once again written in gorgeous, time-consuming calligraphy but this time with scarlet red ink.


Below it was signed, not with a normal signature though. It was a deep red thumbprint. Unmistakingly made from blood.

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Time || Morning's Glory

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_{Time: 10:28
Location: Secluded Parlor
Collab between Seraphina & Béatrix@GhostMami}

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Seraphina had prepared the room down to the most insignificant details. All the windows to the outside were closed and covered, allowing no sunlight in. Except for one door behind where she would sit. She considered it a precaution. Still, the room was filled with artificial light so everyone could see everything quite clearly. On the central table stood two cups and a pot. Though they weren’t made from porcelain, instead they were made from clay. The pot itself had a dull glaze on it and mandarin signs carved into it. Her father’s orders were extremely stern when it came to using the pot. Only one kind of tea could be brewed in it, no metal was to touch it, and it had to be cleaned with water and left to air dry. Seraphina had followed these orders down to the letter. Now she could only wait, two minutes before 10:30.

She was anxious as hell. Princes and princesses she could handle. Most appeared to be either young or yet to outgrow their arrogance. She could level that arrogance. Béatrix offered another challenge, though. She was older and much, much colder. Her file was painfully short on any meaningful information. The only thing she had was the small footnote of her father: be cautious, be suspicious, and do not underestimate her. All of that would’ve been much easier with some bloodwine in her but her father insisted on tea. She hated tea. She hated waiting. She hated having to talk to Béatrix. Though none of it showed. She just wanted it to be over with so she could grab the bottle she hid in a drawer.

Seraphina Aghrem. It was an unfamiliar name to Béatrix, be it that she came from too small a family to matter, or that Aghrem was simply not a family at all. The letter explaining her reason for summoning Trixy for ‘tea’ was vague and signed by some nameless entity. Perhaps they were both nameless entities, or perhaps they were one in the same entity. Regardless of aliases or namelessness, this entire situation had Trixy on full alert. This reeked of a trap, but thankfully, she always came prepared to face those who wanted her dead. There was a long list, after all.

Béatrix rolled up the letter and stored it away in her bag. With the door to her room locked behind her, she changed out of her elegant breakfast outfit into something more appropriate for conducting business. Pulling a safe out from her suitcase, Trixy scanned her fingerprint and opened it to reveal two handguns, a cache of ammo, two daggers, and her badge. Working for the NYPD had its perks. With a badge, it was pretty much no questions asked when it came to getting your weapons through security. This saved her the effort of having to actually compel humans to let her by with weaponry. When it came to conducting her own personal business, however, the badge could stay behind. Trixy left it in the safe and proceeded to conceal all four weapons on her person. With a pair of tall boots and a leather jacket, she looked much like the average New Yorker, with no outward sign of the heat she was actually packing.

Promptly at the time specified in the letter, the staccato of Trixy’s boots hitting tile announced her arrival in the parlor. The air around her shifted to match to cold expression on the woman's face as she approached the table where this Seraphina sat. In addition to once again sizing up the stranger, Béatrix also scanned the room. The invitee had took caution to keep the sunlight out, either because she was Turned herself, or because she knew that Trixy was. There was also a clay teapot, steam curling up from the spout, keeping up the facade that this meeting was actually meant for them to share tea. If this turned out to be the rouse that Béatrix suspected, she would give the girl points for style before ending her life. Effort was very important.

Without any formal greetings, nor even a smile, Béatrix sat across from the woman and watched her reactions. After a few moments of silence, she moved her piercing gaze to the teapot and spoke. “If this mysterious author knows so much about me, you'd think they'd consider offering wine to a frenchwoman instead of tea.” Her icy blue eyes returned to Seraphina now. “I will not be drinking it. Leave that pisswater to the english and the orientals, and instead let’s discuss why I’m really here, shall we?”

Seraphina was braced for many things. Still, to hear the elder vampire talk in such a brazen, impatient way. She felt the same kind of meek fear she felt with her father. A fear that told her she was in the presence of something much bigger. Not many of her age would understand that what she was facing here was something that could kill her easily. It’s why she kept the door open and for now the reassurance that she could run into the sun kept the fear down low inside her.

Though when Béatrix spoke about the tea, Seraphina suddenly felt so relieved. In an instant she shot up and went towards her drawer. “Ah, then I might have something better.” She said as reassurance as she slowly opened it up. From it she pulled a glass bottle filled with a very dark liquid. At its core it looked black but the edges, where light could pass through, showed that it was in fact crimson. The bottle lacked any form of sticker. Instead the year, the name and line of blood it came from were formed in the glass. Seraphina brushed her hand over where the letters should be. A normal human couldn’t hope to discern the minute details within the glass shape but a vampire’s enhanced senses showed a complete image. She poured two glasses and placed one before Béatrix as she took a small sip herself to show that it wasn’t poisoned.

Trixy stared down at glass suspiciously. This was turning out to be a peculiar meeting. Mysterious unlabeled bottles of dark liquid in lieu of tea. Granted, whatever it was, was probably better than tea. When Seraphina took a sip from her own glass, poured from the same bottle, Trixy relaxed marginally. The woman appeared to be relieved to be able to reach for the bottle, and eagerly took a first sip, so the offering seemed to be genuine. Far more genuine than the fanciful tea pot was. With a small ghost of a smile, Trixy elegantly plucked up the glass and breathed in the aroma. Blood. She had just drank, but something about this scent beckoned her to indulge, awakening the predatory instincts she kept under lock and key. Fighting the bloodlust to down it all in one go, Béatrix instead took the daintiest of sips. She wanted to dislike it, to be snarky, but… “That’s…. That’s quite good, actually.” She admitted in earnest.

“Let’s get to business.” Her father would want her to go slow. To coax her prey. Though Seraphina made her own judgement of the situation. Béatrix did not seem too intent to be wooed. “My employer-” She hid it well, but she still hated that word. She hated it because it was a mask of what she truly was. Of what she wanted to be. “-fears that the young Artois girls are not up for the task they were given today. They are young, either brazen or shy and know next to nothing about the true world of Vampires. To put it bluntly: at best they will be puppets. At worst they will be killed.” That was a lie. The worst was the Crypt. Seraphina had only seen it once. She would rather die than be imprisoned in the Crypt. “So my employer offers them an alliance. One that would shield them from the worst of the contenders.”

As the woman began to speak, Trixy’s inner detective flourished. She watched her lips, her eyes, all of the subtle hints that one gives away in their body language when lying… or when telling the truth. Much to Trixy’s surprise, despite the stranger’s magical affinities — given the raven trick — she did not appear to be experienced enough to defend her mind. She must be young. Younger vampires tended to be easier to read for Trixy, their minds were open and they hadn’t learned to control their thoughts yet. When the woman spoke of this “employer”, her thoughts curled around the word like shadows and rejected it. A lie, or at the very least, half a truth. Trixy sensed her discomfort and tried to hone in on it. There was plenty else to address in what she was saying, but Trixy would first focus in on what had caught her attention before getting to the matter of the Artois girls.

“Your employer, was it?” Her french accent wrapped the question in a seductive taunt. Trixy smirked and tilted the glass to her lips once more. “If you wish to gain anything from this meeting, you should start with being truthful.” She set the glass down and folded her hands in her lap properly. “You don’t consider them an employer. Why? Are you being forced to be here, against your will?” There was a touch of genuine concern in the last question. Béatrix had special punishments in place for those who forced women to do things against their will.

Seraphina took a sharp breath. Of course the elder picked up on that. Why did it have to be that? In truth she wanted to tell Béatrix who her ‘employer’ was. On the surface just to show what kind of power the elder was dealing with. But deep down she just wanted to name herself daughter. Though sadly, her father has forbidden her from revealing his identity. Putting her in a particularly difficult bind right now. “Not forced.” There was annoyance in her answer. She didn’t have anyone to care for her when she was born. She wouldn’t need it now. “As for truth, none of what I said is a lie.” She took a quick sip, letting the oxygenated blood energize her. “And this meeting isn’t about me.” She continued, trying to steer the conversation back on track. “This is about the Artois girls. I am here so they won’t be forced to do anything they don’t want to do. So what do you say? Will you help us help them?”

The response was uncomfortable, that much was obvious to the observant vampiress. Sera might not be forced to be here, but she was forced to withhold information. Béatrix was a patient detective, she would get to the bottom of it. If not today, then the next. After Seraphina brought up the girls once more, it was Trixy’s turn to be annoyed. She leaned forward, her elbows digging into the flesh above her knees as she looked squarely into the other woman’s eyes. “The Artois are in perfectly capable hands.” Trixy opened her palms and displayed them proudly. “Mine.” She calmly inhaled and sat up straighter. “You were correct in stating that they are young… shy… but they are revolutionaries. They know nothing of the “true vampire world” because they are not part of it. They will turn it on its head, and the world will be better for it. They will not be puppets, and they will not be killed. And hear me now, if your employer wishes to do them any harm, I will kill him. And then I will kill you. And then I will kill anyone else involved.”

Trixy stood up now, a clear power play so that she could look down on Seraphina. “A word of advice: If you are going to make a point of meeting with elder vampires, you might want to work on guarding your thoughts. If your father truly wants to meet with me and discuss a possible alliance, he can do so in person. I won’t shoot the messenger, but I certainly don’t trust them.” It was a shot in the dark, guessing that the entity was the girl’s father. Béatrix would observe the girl’s reactions to gauge how close the guess was.

She speaks like father would. Those were the thoughts that floated up from Seraphina’s mind. Béatrix spoke with the same conviction as him. In a way that erased all doubts and made what they said simply facts. In the past she could simply revel in that certainty. Now she had to rise up against it. No, she didn’t get up. That would simply level the playing field. Seraphina remained seated yet utterly unintimidated as she slowly swirled the glass of blood in her hand. Though her eyes stared back with a wild flame behind them. She released a sharp breath and said: “When Amelia was in Milan and Irine in New York, in what side of the world were you? Where you watching Amelia partying in some house or looking over Irine taking a stroll through Central Park?” She never had to deal with a vampire like Béatrix before. The Elder managed to push all the right buttons.

Especially the one about her father. “As for my father.” She would put it to rest. No matter how influential, threatening or powerful she would not reveal him. “He is dead. I don’t even know where he is buried. So I’d ask you to refrain from the subject.” It was a complete lie. She simply switched parents. The only thing she knows about her mother is her last name: Aghrem. “And for the threats against me and my people. They are unnecessary. We bear the Artois’ no ill will. I simply offered our help. If you insist on declining, then I am afraid there is nothing we can do.” To hell there wasn’t. As if Seraphina would let it just be. This was simply the easy route. “As for your curiosity for my employer, I will relay it your wish and because you gave me such gracious advice, I will return in kind.” She got up. Now all diplomatic neutrality flowed out of her. These were no longer talks about alliances and help. It felt personal. “You’re underestimating him. Don’t.”

She stretched out her arm passed Béatrix and pointed with an open hand towards the door. “I’m afraid that concludes our little talk.”

Trixy watched the girl’s growing anger with proud amusement. She did not take the bait on her mention of the Artois girls, it was just a reactionary swing on the other woman’s part. Trixy had hit a soft spot, meaning that her guess was far more accurate than she could have hoped. “Darling, I don’t underestimate anyone.” Hence why she arrived to this meeting with enough firepower to challenge an entire family of vampires, instead of just one. “I don’t decline the offer… yet. Please do forward my request to meet eye to eye. I’ll expect your raven.” With a half smile, Trixy’s gaze followed Seraphina’s arm towards the door. She dipped in a quick curtsy and made her leave just as coldly as she had arrived.

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Time: 14:00 ⇒ 14:15 EST
Location: Café comfort
Interacting with Khione Crusch_@Hoekage & Alexander Tepes_@Legion02

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Alexander arrived at the strangely spacious looking café. The place seemed modern, yet just a touch out of place. Like it came from another time and tried to settle here without sacrificing too much of its old identity. Though Alexander couldn’t really place where it came from. At the counter he ordered his tea with a delicious looking apple pie slice. As the people behind the counter prepared his order he looked around. His eyes counting the few people present. He smiled. The stage was set. With a polite yet cold nod as he received his order, he took a seat in the back. Though with his back against the wall, so he had a clear view of everyone who would come in and approach the counter.

The morning seemed to be just the beginning of a long day of nuisances for Khione. Phone calls from the order, summons from the NYPD’s Supernatural Unit (that she chose to ignore), and then to top it off another summon, but from someone more powerful than she (this one she couldn’t ignore). The young huntress entered the cafe, in a casual yet flattering outfit that matched the trends amongst the few people coming and going as she walked to the counter. The exchange with the girl at the register was pleasant and quick, and Khione found herself setting the tawny colored americano on the table and filled the vacant seat slowly.

Face to face with the man who shouldn’t know who she was, wasn’t as unnerving as she thought it would be. There were probably a lot of people, and vampires, out there that wanted to kill her. At least this one was showing his face.

“Alexander.” Was the simple, curt greeting she offered as she took a sip from her second iced coffee of the day.

Alexander looked up to face Khione. “Miss Crusch, I presume.” He returned with a warm, almost fatherly smile. The moment he saw her, he began to compare her with the description he was given. “I must say, our mutual friend has done you no justice with his description.” He said as he vividly remembered the blood choked account of Khione: ‘Black hair, darker skin tone. Bit of Latino look. Cold gal. Distant.’ He outstretched his hand, an invitation to take and shake it. A sign of good faith. “I’m so happy you could make it. Apologies for the last-minute invitation. I was held up by a certain royal before I could dispatch the letter.”

“Most people don’t.” Khione replied her tone trailing off as calculating dark eyes trailed over the stranger across from her. Alexander was handsome, but she never came across a vampire who wasn’t. The smile on his face was neutral but there was something in his eyes, maybe it was just the age, but she knew better than that. Despite that she met his invitation, yet again, and placed her hand in his giving him a firm handshake,” I have a flexible schedule, as you can imagine. Though today happens to be a busy day for me, so if you wouldn’t mind I’d like to get to business.”

Alexander was somewhat surprised by the firm handshake. Then again, she was a Daughter of Aeternum. That alone made her stand up from the common rabble that humans usually were. “Ah, very well.” He said as he lifted his cup of tea. “Let us proceed to business then. Though perhaps we should first get some privacy.” He said, then he took a sip of his tea as he lifted his left arm and snapped his fingers once.

All around them several chairs began scrapping over the ground. Everyone sitting in the back of the café, a total of fifteen people, stood up at the snap and moved towards the exit. Much to the surprise of the girl at the counter. When Alexander lowered his cup again, they were nearly all alone in the back. “Much better. Now, I do understand you are pressed for time but I insist that I do introduce myself. Even though I am fairly certain your people have extensive archives. My name is Alexander of House Tepes. Elder and trusted advisor of King Dimitri Tepes. Now, with that out of the way, let us proceed to business.” He took out his phone and quickly tapped a few keys. It took a moment, though he continued talking: “Under normal circumstances I would only invite you as a courtesy call. As my king insist on amicable relationships. Sadly, as of this morning, terms have changed.” He passed her the phone. On it was a picture of two young people. A man and a woman. They looked like they were in a nighttime bar. Together. Happy. “You will find them in Central Park. Dead. Murdered, I might add. They were… associates of mine. I find the circumstances of their death quite troubling.”

The uniform movement of the people around them was slightly surprising and she turned her head to see the emptiness of the lobby. The bewilderment of the nice girl at the register made Khione crack a small smile as she turned back to face the man. “Cool party trick.” The statement was promptly ignored, at her request he sped things along, but, not without an introduction.

Alexander of House Tepes, Elder of Dmitri who was already an annoyance with hundred of years under his belt. There was plenty of information on Dmitri in the records of Genesis, but nothing on an Alexander. Was he lying? The thought was brief as she remembered the seal that had been stamped into the letter mailed to her, no not lying, but to remain out of the Orders eyes from the beginning of Genesis and until now? Khione hasn’t said a word as she lost herself in her thoughts, perhaps it was rude she didn’t offer an introduction in turn, but he knew who she was, and she was rude.

Only when an artificial source of bright white was placed in her line of sight had she come back from her thoughts. Blinking in the familiar faces of the couple found dead this morning in Central Park had a coolness awash her senses. Not a trace of the tension in her muscles or chaos in her head showed in her facial expression nor the more difficult to control signs like a heartbeat. An outwardly nonchalant shrug was given in response to his concerns about the nature of losing his associates, but inside Khione was stewing with anger. This was the fourth time that day the annoying and very fuckable hunter on the verge of termination had managed to slip up in her conversations.

Khione wasn’t sure how much Alexander knew, unluckily for her, there were several reasons he had to choose from to justify calling her here. Not that he needed any justification, knowing her name and address practically put her life in his hands. This was the exact situation she never wanted to find herself in, yet here she was. “I heard something horrific happened in Central Park but decided not to get involved on my day off, seems like I made a good decision.” The best way to lie was to always tell half-truths, it was her day off, but she knew about the incident, and knew about the previous incidents similar to this one. “What about their deaths is troubling? It’s a big city, everyone has enemies here, unfortunately, it seems like your associates had enemies with money. I’ve heard the relations between your kind can be pretty volatile, but I guess that’s where the Zeno’s rack in all the cash? Well, besides arms and drugs.”

Alexander took his phone back and began to swipe through it. “I know my people. While they weren’t saints, they most certainly weren’t criminals. Death is an unjust fate for them. Furthermore-“ He said as he once again slid the phone towards Khione. This time the picture on it was far more morbid. The corpse, sitting against a tree, clutching his stomach. It was burned completely. “-this is an unusually brutal way to kill. That is a sentence given only to the worst transgressors amongst the Tepes. So I highly doubt it was a vampire that killed them. No, I believe it is a human. One with an exceptional hatred for making such a torturous kill.” He took a quick sip of his tea, draining the last of it as he let Khione observe the picture a little bit in silence.

“However, I am not here to tell you about the killer. The police will surely know more by tomorrow.” He said, after which he took his phone back. “But I have an obligation towards my people, Miss Crusch. Retribution.” There was no emotion in his voice. No sadness, no hate, no rage. He was simply, coldly, stating the facts. “I will find whoever did this. I will find who houses them. Who helped them. Trained them. Then I will right this wrong.” He stated his intentions as one would state facts. His words were frigid, immutable prophecies. “I will give you one chance, right now, to tell me if you know who this was or could be. If I leave here without a name, there will be no leniency.”

‘Retribution’ the single word almost made her laugh, humans were ugly beings, but finite in their existence. Unlike the vampires, who always danced just on the edge of meeting justice with their powerful existence and hundreds of years of manipulation. Khione didn’t hate them, not all of them, but she’d doubt killing one wouldn’t have served for an injustice sometime in their past.

The threats were a poor treat paired with the already bitter coffee, she should have ordered something sweet like a caramel macchiato or a white mocha, to really savor them. The true Khione was rearing her head in that moment, as she leaned forward, aware of the dipping neckline of the tank top she wore,” Alexander… if I didn’t know better, it sounds like you were threatening me. I can appreciate a male who knows the importance of foreplay and I am interested, but I’m afraid I just don’t have the time to play with you today.” A pout played at the lips of the young woman who was burning with rage inside, she had come across vampires like him. Old and arrogant, they never paid her any attention more than stating their demands, and never looked at her with a hint of lust their younger kin could be tempted into.


Alexander answered her seduction in kind as he inched closer to her as well. A small, hungry smile formed on his lips. As he got closer he first looked into her amber eyes. Then he trailed down towards her pink lips and then lower. “Then how about I make you scream tonight?” He whispered playfully. His hot breath falling upon her bare neck. He was but inches away. Something inside of him wanted to give in. To lower his fangs into her skin. To take her then and there in a bloodied embrace.

As suddenly as he had leaned in, he pulled himself back against the chair. The coy teasing stopped immediately. Replaced once more by the friendly smile. “No leniency then. Very well. Then I am afraid I must take my leave.”

He took a last sip from his though and began to shuffle sideways to get out of the boot seat. Though halfway out he stopped and checked his watch. “Ah, how foolish of me. I have forgotten the most important thing.” He looked up towards Khione.“It is to my understanding that this city is somewhat of a… hotbed for the youngest generation of vampire royalty. As we are speaking now, my gracious king is announcing a change in all of their lives. They are expected to form a house of their own, while they are cut off from their original bloodlines.” He got up- “Enjoy your day off, Miss Crusch. I suspect it will be your last for a very long time.” And he walked away.