We didn't know where to start looking for the other captives. Even after scouring the Executive Priority Health clinic, we were stumped.

But my Godfather sent us a helluva lead.
-"Something is going down on St. Claire mansion tonight. She sent me an envelope with the address, and would be affronted if no one shows." This time he gave me an insane grin. "Now, would be uncouth to disappoint the lady."

Since I was a White council Wizard AND Marcone's family, no other soul needed to step into the lion's den. Shiro and Michael would be the cavalry, diving in to get the victims to safety. The seedier underworld would be posted with some serious hardware around the mansion. No one wanted witnesses to inform the other Vampire Clans. Luccio's wardens would make sure of that.

It took a lot of begging and cajoling, but no one else would come inside the mansion. Not even mom.
I bested her when your body was that of a child. While formidable, she forgets the extent of my prowess.

The guard at the gates gave me a once over, from my wooden sandals to the green caduceus in my cloak. Shoes was curled around my staff, playing the motif to the hilt. He checked again the two invitations I provided.
-"By which name and title should the herald announce you?"
Remember camouflage, vessel.
That's why I left the sword at home.
-"Healer Dresden, the White."
-"On behalf of my mistress, please be welcome, Healer."

The guests gathered at the entrance were bemused at my look. I was playing the part of the harmless healer, stereotype incarnate.
Focus on protecting the innocent, for that is the spirit of the Martial Artist.
I can't wait to cave in their smiles with a fist.
In untold millennia, you are the first healer I have to restrain from violence. Irony surely knows no bounds…
What? when you-
THAT SMELL! AHEAD!

A gentleman of indefinite age was dressed after a Roman Centurion. On his hand, an unlit cigarette yet he was exhaling smoke. He was admonishing harshly a small gathering of vampires.
-" my true form would shatter this place and crack th-"
He craned his neck around and his green eyes found mine.

Smile, vessel. Smile.
I displayed a toothy smile and added a 'lil wave with my hand.

Even from the distance, I could see his eyes zero on Shoes. He started wheezing smoke from his nostrils and strode forwards. The sea of guests parted, giving ample way to the centurion.

Who is him? And why is he mad?
You bear witness to the oldest of dragons. The name in your human tongue is Ferrovax.
SAYWHAAT?!

The deep rich purr of my inner resident betrayed his mirth. Shoes was prepared for a fight, body curled, ready to strike
Nothing upsets more an apex predator than the feeling of being prey.
Who in their right mind thinks of Dragon and goes...Mmm, that head would be lovely hanging on my fireplace.
From predator to prey means change. And immortal creatures can't cope with change.
No relation with murdering other dragons? None at all?
Mayhaps, vessel. It has been a long time and I can be forgetful at my old age.
You are a bad liar, you know that?

He stopped close, the few feet between us revealing his whole frame was ready for violence. Veins in his neck pulsed with fury and he didn't speak, he growled in english.
-"Slayer of Eternals, set my kin free."

Show some measure of respect, for he is powerful. But don't grovel.
-"Elder Ferrovax, I know not of what you speak of."

He came right into my face, his entire frame oozing killing intent.
-"Set that young hatchling free."
And he pointed to Shoes.