Baldassare had left the faux-couple in order to do some snooping of his own. He couldn't babysit them all night; that would be suspicious. Truth be told, he didn't much care for the watchdog's presence, and was somewhat glad to get away from him. The Phantomhive made him feel on edge and he did not like that.

When it came to most people from the special zone, the coven leader was genuinely afraid of "the Watchdog". The demon was far more powerful than Baldassare could ever be. Even after hundreds of years of fighting tooth and nail to get where he was, he is still no match for a demon. Despite his self-destructive tendencies, Baldassare was afraid. He had lived for so long and had come to fear death, even if he sometimes wished that it would release him from the curse of being a child forever. Baldassare has tried everything, but he just couldn't die. Things that would kill humans wouldn't work on him, so although the barrel of a gun had kissed his temple and painted the walls red seemingly countless times, he would not die.

Even the times when he had tried things lethal to vampires, he had failed. He once went out into the sun and sat there, allowing it to burn him. It's Glen rules that you can only use one spell at a time, so it is not within his power to purchase shade gel to protect himself from the sun's rays. Katelyn had found him before too long and brought him back to the Wolf's Glen. He was too weakened to fight back at the time. It took days for the painful burns and blisters to heal. Afterwards, he tired his personal pistol; the one with the antifreak bullets. Despite his wishes, despite his preparation, he hesitated, and simply could not bring himself to pull the trigger. In truth, Baldassare did not want to die. He simply didn't want to be a child anymore. He didn't want to be perceived as weak anymore.

That is what truly frightened him about the Watchdog. Ciel reminded the vampire that he was weak, and had threatened his life on multiple occasions. He would go through with it, too. If Baldassare wasn't useful to the Phantomhive, the Girasol vampire would have been killed off ages ago. It was best to cooperate with the demon rather than oppose him.

There was a lot relying on him, after all. Part of the reason why his coven was the largest in the city was simply because of his desire to protect the people of the special zone. Gentlemen offered fleeting pleasure and debauchery. Girasol offered security and care. Even if Baldassare was rude, foul-mouthed, and hot-headed, he didn't want the people of the Glen to get hurt. He was afraid of death not only for himself, but the worry of leaving the others to deal with H.E.L.L.S.I.N.G. and pigs like Gentlemen themselves. The vampire wrinkled his nose at the sentiment. He hated having feelings.

Fifteen minutes. He only had fifteen minutes before he had to search for his associates again. Now, this wasn't a lot of time, but surely, he could come up with something within that timeframe. He was the Baldassare, after all! Even if this was another person's turf, he was still the head of the biggest coven in London, and subsequently, the United Kingdom. Vampires, regardless of rank or association, had to have at least some respect for that. A smirk appeared across his face as he spotted a prime target.

"Elam Paul!" he called, walking up to the man. The other vampire seemed to jump at the sound of his voice, but turned around all the same to greet the coven leader.

Elam Paul was one of the three generals of the Gentleman coven. Another young –looking man, appearing to be in his mid-twenties. He didn't dress in a full suit. Instead, he wore a tie and a dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and a blue vest. His hair was tousled and snake-bite piercings stuck in his lips, making Baldassare wonder how on earth he was supposed to bite anyone without tearing his own face open first. Regardless, Paul was the laid-back sort, and was easy to read. If Baldassare asked, he could definitely get something from him.

"Hey, Baldassare." The general answered. "How can I help you?"

"It's nothin', really. I was just wantin' to know if you knew anything about tonight's 'entertainment'." Baldassare answered. He kept it casual, so as to not make this an interrogation. Baby-Face dealt with interrogations in a completely different manner that was somewhat more than "conspicuous".

"Most everything's on the programs. Did nobody give you one?"

"Yeah, I got one." The coven leader said holding it up. This was going nowhere fast. "I was just wonderin' about your set-up on some of these. Like, what's with the Russian Roulette tournament? How do you keep people from getting hit with stray bullets?"

"Oh, I see." Replied Elam. "Well, with that, we have three rows of tables all in a straight line. Then on between them, we built these walls in between the rows to keep the players from shooting the wrong guy."

"I get it." Baldassare answered. He tried not to shudder as he imagined the blood-soaked walls at the end of the game. "What about the torture chamber? Are the 'players' already there waiting?"

"Nah. We just march them through the halls to the room." The other vampire replied. "Get more audience members that way. Piques their interest a bit."

"Huh, hadn't thought about that." Babyface pretended to ponder. "You do the same thing for the auction?"

"Nope. Those humans are already there, gettin' prettied up." Paul stated. "Gotta make them look nice, or nobody will buy them!"

"You got a point, there." Said Baldassare. His attention briefly shifted to pluck a glass of blood from one of the passing waiters. He couldn't think of anything to say that didn't sound too forward, so he simply pretended to be more casual about it than he really was. He took a sip of a drink and wrinkled his nose.

"Did you mix the blood?" he asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Yeah, we put it in an easy place to dispense it, why?"

"Uh-uh. You can't do that." Baldassare said, wagging a finger with his free hand. "Mixing the blood of different people messes with the purity of the taste. Different blood types taste different, and mixing them willy-nilly can make it taste downright gross if you do it wrong!"

"I didn't know that!" the general said. "I never noticed…"

"When you get to be my age, you learn to savour it a bit more. You can't know the difference if you just chug it." Spoke the other vampire. "If you're hunting, you gotta choose your prey more carefully. Get them where you can take your time. Then it's not a problem!"

"Huh… I gotta try that now." Said Paul. He offered up a smile. "You really know your shit don't you? Guess it's to be expected of the "BabyFace" Baldassare!"

As if on reflex, the glass in the coven leader's hand was smashed against the side of the general's head, shattering it and sending the younger vampire to the floor. Elam landed with a thud with shards of broken glass stabbing into his skin and blood staining his previously white shirt. He looked up, clutching the side of his head to see Baldassare staring down at him. The Girasol vampire had his hand held out, covered in blood and cuts from the glass. The mix of both human and vampire blood seeped into his wounds before sealing themselves shut and Baldassare clenched his fist and bared his fangs.

"What was tha?" he demanded as he glared down at the younger vampire. "I think I might've misheard ya. It sounded like you just called me 'Baby-Face'!" The crowd around them gasped as he raised his leg and brought it down on that of the general, breaking bone. Paul let out what was the beginnings of a scream before muffling it with his hand.

"I don't care who you are, what coven you're from, or what rank you are;" Baldassare continued. "Nobody calls me 'Baby-Face'. Understand?" Paul nodded his head before snapping his bone back into place. His opponent didn't seem at all phased when Mister Brummel made his way over, trying to see what was happening.

"What happened?!" asked the leader of Gentlemen, looking down at his lackey and then to Baldassare. In an instant, he knew exactly what occurred.

"Your flunky disrespected me." Baldassare said flatly. He began to walk past the man, pausing to hand him the glass that he took only a small sip from. "And next time, don't mix blood types. It ruins the taste." With that he left the man standing there in stunned silence.

"Marvelous…" said Brummel, catching the attention of the other leader.

"Huh?" the Girasol vampire asked, looking over his shoulder and arching an eyebrow.

"Marvelous!" the other man repeated. "Such power and dignity! Such exquisite taste! You, sir, are a true gentleman!"

"Like hell, I am." Baldassare answered, furrowing his brow and wrinkling his nose in disgust. "I'm a criminal, just like you only better."

"I'm gonna bounce." He continued, putting his hands in his pockets. "Not really a social butterfly, and I can get my own food."

"But-"

"Cornelius!" Baldassare barked, summoning the demon's attention. Within moments, both he and Charlotte were at the Girasol vampire's side, wondering what on earth was going on. "We're leaving."

Without saying another word, they walked out the door, waiting until they were out of a certain range before speaking. Baldassare was leading them back to the Bravo team's truck. He had information that they might want.

"Why did you do that?!" Ciel demanded. "We were so close!"

"I fucked up and bashed the guy's head, alright? What d'ya want me to do?" asked Baldassare. "Besides, I got info. Apparently, they're keeping the victims in two separate places. The ones that are gonna be sold off are in the same room that the event's gonna be held in."

"And the rest?"

"Probably in the basement." The vampire said. "Relax. We got this. I'll have you know, that was my old place before my group got too big and needed relocating! I can get us back in."

"Fine. We'll need you to go back in with Bravo and Echo, then." Said the Phantomhive. "We'll need to seal the entrances and exits, though. Think you can help with that as well?"

"Yeah, yeah. Let's just go get your bitch this info and give 'em a map."

"He's not my 'bitch'." The watchdog said sternly, actually frightening the vampire a bit.

"Sheesh, you really do love this guy, don't ya?" Baldassare answered, trying to play it off. "Alright, alright. Get it to Goldilocks, then we attack."