Children of the Night

Private Talks

The servant, who had tried in vain to keep Harvey under control, is cleaning up the study when Tristan and Ethan enter. With silent horror, he watches Ethan's wardrobe slowly dripping onto the wooden floor. "Can I get you anything else, gentlemen?" He asks politely, nonetheless. Tristan looks at Ethan as well and sighs. "Please bring some dry clothes for Mr. Blackwood here."

Ethan convulsively suppresses the urge to look down on himself and instead tightens his stance. "And please take them to the large bedroom upstairs on the right," Tristan adds with a restrained smile before the servant leaves the room. Tristan somehow enjoys watching Ethan wrestle with his pride. As if his sheer will could hold the water in the fabric of his clothes and stop dripping. He missed that. Not to be completely idle while things are being prepared, he pours them both a whiskey from the decorated glass carafe. The half-open globe where the strong alcohol is kept has just been freshly refilled and the glasses are clinking as Tristan takes them with one hand and the carafe with the other.

He pushes a glass into Ethan's hand before emptying his own in one go and refilling it. Ethan wrinkles his brow. "Since when do you drink whiskey?" he asks.

"Since your boy blows up our council meetings and jeopardizes important contracts."

Ethan waves his glass slowly before he puts it on a small side table next to the couch without drinking it and lights up a half-wet cigarette from within his jacket. "We're still working on the subtleties. Etiquette is not necessarily the most important thing to survive on the streets," he smiles at the thought of Harvey. Tristan is torn as he watches Ethan delightfully let the smoke slide through his nostrils.

"This banquet he spoke of is in two nights? Where?", he wants to know.

Ethan notices the tension behind Tristan's gentle features. "Yes, in St. James Square in the East India Club building. We can't march in there with a hundred men, Tristan, no matter what Harvey said."

Tristan laughs before he pours himself a third glass full of whiskey and empties it again in one go before he puts the glass away, too. "Fate plays tricks on us, my friend," he smiles. "We are invited, not only because we need access, but because we have important business there. Who would have bet on that?"

Ethan is frowning. "We? All I know is that the company where the food is ordered is the same company that was a supplier at the last attack. The mere fact that you're going to be there reinforces my suspicion. There are also rumors of high-ranking members of the human public. I do not believe in coincidences, but without looking around this supplier's warehouse and on-site, I cannot say for sure. Unfortunately, my source at the Limehouse Docks has... died."

"What do you mean with it died?" Tristan wants to know, but Ethan just hums before he continues. "That's all I got. What kind of business could the Vampire Society possibly have going on at a human banquet like this? I certainly have nothing to do with the aristocrats there."

"Not yet," Tristan sighs before pointing to the staircase outside the door. "Let's go upstairs so you can change. I can see from here that you're cold and have goosebumps."

Ethan's attitude stiffens, but he can't think of a good counter-argument. So he finally nods and they switch rooms again. When Tristan makes no effort to leave Ethan alone, Ethan decides to play along and change in front of him. Without taking notes of Tristan's view, he peels out of his wet suit and exposes the wound on his chest.

"It looks almost like the scars on your back," Tristan remarks and has to restrain his fantasy about what had happened. Concern over Ethan's condition and the extent of the poisoning drains all his other thoughts and brings unpleasant memories to the surface. Ethan appears emaciated and undernourished. He used to see him like that all the time. It was usually shortly after a big battle or after a big wound, he was just recovering from. Since they settled in London, however, this had only happened once; namely when he had messed with the leader of the beasts from the woods in a poisoned state.