"Another B-negative, anyone?"

Nan Flanagan surveyed her houseguests with hidden distaste, but as she valued her job – her existence, at that – she made sure to keep her emotions covered up with a faint smile.

She stood in the center of the circle, dressed in a stark white suit jacket and white slacks, the snowy color complimenting her pale, bloodless face, her cold, unforgiving blue eyes, and the dark blonde hair she had pulled back into a bun that sat atop her head.

Surrounding her were four men dressed in business suits, all of them staring at her with eyes black enough to send shivers down her spine.

"We're all quite fine, Miss Flanagan – do sit down."

Grunting in frustration, Nan took the seat that had been offered to her by one of her guests.

"Did you all really feel that it was necessary to barge into my house in the middle of the night? Couldn't we speak by teleconference or something…?"

"We have come to discuss the future of the AVL," the heaviest of the men said as he fiddled with his moustache, which was the color of the night sky outside.

The American Vampire League, of which Nan was the spokesperson, was in serious jeopardy, as Nan knew – if dealing with anti-vampire radicals (such as Reverend Steve Newlin) wasn't enough, there was enough talk of treason amongst the League members to arouse suspicion in the minds of everyone, even those higher up in the hierarchy.

And who is higher up than the League's four directors? Nan mused as she surveyed the men seated all around her. They were her superiors in every sense of the world – they had all been made centuries prior to the start of her human existence – and they made a name for themselves in the vampire community by being outspoken supporters of 'mainstreaming' and human-vampire equality.

As far as Nan knew, they had even commissioned the creation of TruBlood.

"The future of the League?" Nan asked, playing dumb. "Whatever do you mean? Last I checked, Steve Newlin had packed his bags and run from Louisiana – what threat can he be now that his ego has been severely deflated?"

"It is true that the Fellowship of the Sun is in complete disarray now that its head as fled the state, but there remains a far greater threat to our existence," the tallest of the four men pointed out. He was lean and muscular, with deep-set eyes and a mess of chocolate hair.

Nan cocked an eyebrow – this news had been unknown to her.

"If you're talking about witches again, I swear I'm going to resign," she muttered flatly. "I've had just about enough of this supernatural Necromancy crap."

The tall man laughed suddenly, and Nan squirmed uneasily in her seat – nothing good ever came from a vampire laughing.

"You deluded fool," he cackled. "You think mere witches and wizards mean anything to the AVL? They're about as intimidating as a werewolf cub."

"Well, you four had me wage a full-scale war on them the last time they popped up in Shreveport," she shot back. "And that little campaign shot our popularity straight to Hell, what with the civilian casualties. It could take us years to get back in the good eye of the public…"

"We haven't got years," the third man, wearing glasses, pointed out. "Until we establish the source of our threat, we might have a handful of months…maybe weeks before our fears are realized."

Nan's jaw fell open slightly, and she felt a jab of pain in her chest, as if she had been stabbed by a silver rod.

"Oh my God, you can't be insinuating an inside threat, can you?" she asked.

"As far as we can tell, someone at our very core is trying to destroy us," the final man murmured. He was the oldest of the four, as was made apparent by his scraggly steel-grey hair and wrinkled, yellowed skin.

"Destroying us how?" Nan demanded, but she thought to herself: Why the fuck didn't you idiots tell me about this before?

"Do you remember hearing about that fire in the Houston Nest?" the facial-haired man asked of Nan.

"Of course – it was all over the AVL channels a few months back. Over one hundred vampires fried to a crisp. It was a complete massacre – not one survivor."

"A great number of those vampires were leading members of the mainstreaming movement, and it is our belief that someone within our network silenced them permanently."

Nan looked at the four men skeptically – she really wasn't in the mood for fairytales so late at night.

"You can't seriously believe one of my men was responsible for this – I heard the fire was started by short-circuiting wires, or something. A tragedy, yes, but more along the lines of a tragic mistake."

"The threat is real, Miss Flanagan, you can be sure of that – that 'short-circuiting wire' nonsense was a lie we feed to the vampire community ourselves," the eldest man said.

Nan felt yet another jab of pain, and she winced.

"I'm not a fan of treacheries, gentlemen – and I don't appreciate being lied to when it comes to matters as important as the stability of a League which I am trying my best to control."

"You nothing but the face of the AVL," the tall man snorted. "A pawn we use to sell to the public what we are telling you to sell. Do not challenge our authority when it comes to handling these delicate issues."

Nan felt like lashing out at the man in a fit of fury and rage, but she did her best to hold her tongue – after all, she wasn't an idiot; any of the four men, even the old one, could kill her in an instant.

"With all due respect, Sirs, I don't understand why you couldn't have been upfront about this threat when news of the fire leaked…"

"We can't have every vampire in this country running around like a chicken with its head cut off, becoming distrustful of, and turning against, one another," the bespectacled man noted. "And how would the human public react to the news that the AVL had been infiltrated by a vampire serial killer? It would be complete bedlam. We're already on thin ice with the humans as it is."

"Will the Government be notified of this?" Nan asked. "Perhaps political support could draw out this traitor."

"You actually believe the Government would lend a hand if we came to them for support?" the tall man grunted angrily. "They would have us all staked if they knew our control over human-vampire relations were threatened."

"We must keep this among the proper channels," the elderly man said. "You do understand, Miss Flanagan, that there will be severe repercussions if we learn that you informed any outside network, vampire or otherwise, of the proceedings that went on here tonight."

"Of course," Nan said. "The AVL is rather unforgiving when it comes to treachery, I know that. Thus, I pity whichever bastard is trying to screw us over."

The tall man grinned evilly.

"He or she is in for a rather gruesome execution, I assure you," he said.

"I can only imagine," Nan muttered.

Folding her hands in her lap professionally, she continued: "Now, then, gentlemen – tell me what you want done. I'm yours for the using."

"For starters, glamour everyone in this household – human companions, bodyguards, et cetera – we don't want anyone overhearing anything, you understand."

"Yes, yes, that will be done," Nan said, biting her lip – did they think she was some sort of moron? She had earned that position as AVL spokesperson, by God, and even her superiors ought to treat her with an ounce of respect.

"Additionally," the elderly man chimed in, "We must stress that you keep your eyes and ears open at all time – if you suspect anyone under your authority of having committed treason, you must report them to us immediately. Whatever threat may emerge needs to be crushed as soon as possible."

"Speaking of authority," Nan said dryly, "what does the Authority think about all of this? Surely they have some idea as to who is behind the attack of the Houston Nest."

The Authority, which consisted of a council made up of the most powerful and influential vampires from all across the world, had eyes everywhere – if some new enemy force was brimming, the Authority would already know all about it.

"The Authority is quite concerned," the tall man said with a slight growl. "And they are not concerned easily – dark forces are at work here, Miss Flanagan, and the AVL is at the center of what could be a very serious problem."

"But surely they know what we're up against," Nan said, visibly frustrated. "I mean, they're always snooping around and digging up secrets that members of our community would prefer to keep buried."

"The Authority is not directly involved in this particular investigation," the bespectacled man explained. "As we – the AVL – appeared to have been the intended target of the Houston attack, the Authority believes that we should resolve the situation ourselves…immediately. And by any means necessary, might I add."

"What means of investigation do you have in mind? Without the Authority's assistance, I don't understand what the AVL can do to stop any sort of dire threat."

The tall man leaned forward in his chair, leering at Nan with hungry eyes.

"We are prepared to conduct a series of extreme…interrogations. Of course, we aren't about to go around kidnapping random vampires and torturing them. But we have already compiled a list of possible culprits, and the appropriate papers have been signed to order True Deaths, should it come to that."

Nan smirked, clearly unimpressed.

"Yes, gentlemen, we all lived through the Spanish Inquisition, and we know just how popular that movement was. You really think mass executions will work wonders this time?"

The man with the moustache shrugged.

"It's worth a shot."

Nan bit her lip harder until blood burst into her mouth.

"I suppose so," she said coldly. "And if this – rather drastic – plan fails…?"

"We'll deal with that problem should it arise," the elderly man said, standing and smoothing out in the creases in his suit. "Well, that will be all for tonight, Miss Flanagan – we will be taking our leave."

It's about time…

"Have a good evening, gentlemen," Nan said with a flick of her wrist. "My guards will escort you to the door."

"We will be in touch," said the tall man as he and his three associates exited the living room, two burly men, armed to the teeth with concealed weapons, following them out the door.

Now that she was all alone in the house, Nan clapped her hands together, and almost immediately, two figures appeared in the doorway.

Yvonne was Nan's primary human companion, and for good reason – she was gorgeous, with her tanned, sun-kissed skin, wild mocha-brown curls of hair, and dark suspicious eyes. But the only part of Yvonne's stunning features that Nan really cared about was her bulging neck vein.

Standing beside Yvonne was Carlo, Nan's other companion – well, he was more of a back-up, along the lines of a servant. A rather flamboyant bisexual, Carlo was tall, lean, and muscular, and always walked around the house shirtless in order to show off his golden, chiseled abs. Like Yvonne, he sported dark features, and his eyes sparkled with hidden intelligence and wit.

"Can you both wipe your eager, dumbfounded grins off your faces?" Nan snapped. "I didn't summon you for your blood – get over here."

Both humans did as they were commanded, almost tripping over one another on their mad dash over to where Nan stood.

With an annoyed grunt, she placed a hand on both of their shoulders, and stared into their wide eyes, preparing to glamour whatever tidbits of information they had overheard out of their memories.

Just as she felt her presence force its way into her human companions' minds, a loud rat-a-tat-tat, followed by shrieks of agony, echoed from somewhere outside.

Instinctively, Yvonne threw herself to the ground, screaming bloody murder, while Carlo, slightly dazed, grabbed Nan and forced her toward the door.

"What the hell are you doing?" Nan screeched, throwing Carlo aside and zooming over to the picture window that overlooked the expansive grounds of her mansion.

There, out on the stretch of pavement that led to the macadam street that ran in front of Nan's private residence, all four of the AVL directors were clumped in a trembling circle, as a cascade of bullets – silver, no doubt – emerged from somewhere in the darkness, reducing the helpless men into smoking puddles of blood and gore.

Nan raised a trembling hand to her mouth as the elderly man was struck directly in the temple, his head exploding in a misty cloud of blood.

Unable to watch anymore, Nan turned away from the window, shaking all over.

"Get down!" Carlo screamed from a distant corner of the room.

Nan snapped to attention just as the window exploded in a blast of fire, knocking her to the floor in a shower of shattered glass shards.

Flames licked at the silk curtains that had been pulled back to reveal the remnants of the decimated window, and almost immediately, the entire room was ablaze.