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As they started to leave the alleyway, leaving the hunter and the body of the dead college girl behind, Madison didn't notice the way that Domenic paused and looked directly at where Habren was hidden. Had she been paying attention there may have been a small chance she may have recognized Habren's aura but it was doubtful as Madison had never really spent any time with the elder that her line descended down from. They had only met in passing a few times at the meetings Habren had held when Tytonidae had produced the new code. What a flop that had turned out to be.

There was minimal talking as the pair of vampires ran towards Crown Trailer park. Domenic didn't really seem like the talking type and Madison was far too focused in her own head. Here she was, aiding a bounty offender. Putting her own life on the line for someone she didn't even know. Most of the time she was able to look the other way. The names on the bounty list meant nothing to her unless they were ones that she knew. Once upon a time she had cared a lot more. Had wanted to save them all. Either to get them to stop breaking the masquerade or to teach them to be smarter about doing it so that they didn't end up on the bounty list. That had been back when she was a part of Leviathan. But this, this had been in front of her face. Happening live right in front of her. There was no turning away, especially after that feeling of familiarity had washed over her when looking at Domenic. Guilt would have racked her to the core had she turned and walked away from him.

The trailer park was coming up on their left. Madison's pace didn't slow until she had entered the gates and she pointed out a slightly run down trailer off to the left of the entrance and back some. The outside of the trailer had once been an electric blue but had faded considerably over the many years it had sat within the park, worn down by weather and lack of care. Madison had bought it in relative disrepair but had focused on the inside of it before the outside. Honestly she didn't know why she hadn't just bought a brand new trailer but maybe the working on it had done something for her. Maybe.

"That one's mine."

The two vampires approached the trailer and Madison pulled her keys out from her bag to let them in. It had been so long that she had brought someone to any of her property that it completely slipped her mind that he would not be able to enter unless she invited him in. Upon opening the door, the lights from the four sets of hydroponic equipment shone from the left side of the trailer. The plants, just earlier removed of their flowers, were obviously not the illegal sort. The leaves were the wrong shape and the smell was that of a regular garden and not the pungent and overwhelming odor of marijuana. Madison entered first, leaving the door open and expecting Domenic to follow her in as she moved to the right of the entrance, beyond the view of the door and into the small kitchen area.

The trailer had been split in half. The bedroom and living room area had been turned into her gardening center. The bathroom had been moved closer to the kitchen where the once full size refrigerator had stood. Now there was only a dorm-sized mini-fridge sitting atop the entirety of the kitchen's limited counter space. There were a couple cabinets above and below along with a sink and a small stove top/oven combo. The only seating within the whole trailer was a two-person kitchenette table attached to the wall opposite the sink. While the area within this portion of the trailer seemed cramped, it would be obvious to anyone who entered that the trailer wasn't used for living in.

The problem with running flat out in a city like Harper Rock, Mircea had found, was that it was just about impossible to do anything other than run. In the mountains and woods, where his body knew its way without the aid of his mind, it was easier, but there, in the city filled even at that hour with throngs of people and a hundred other otherwise minor obstacles, it took almost all of his concentration to simply keep his feet beneath him, keep dodging by a hair’s breadth the humans whose eyes couldn’t quickly enough track his movement to know him as anything but an unexpected breeze. And then there were the corners. Streets that wound together and demanded one change of direction after another that threatened to unbalance him and send him crashing through the side of a building or into on coming traffic. The bridges were perhaps the trickiest straight lines to contend with and, often times, it was easier to simply use his momentum to launch himself over the rushing river Harper Rock had been built to straddle. All of this meant that there was only a vague awareness of his phone ringing in his coat pocket, the tone personalised to announce that his wife wished for his attention as soon as possible; seldom did she speak to his mind when he ran this way, knowing that the break in concentration could see him do considerable damage without meaning to – both to himself and his environment. He could stop, slow down to a more manageable speed and answer, but… He was almost there, he could see the train station just on the next corner and then it was a short sprint to where they had pinned the familiar stranger’s location down to.

For his part, Mircea didn’t bother to wrap himself in shadows. He had no need to; the mortals would pay him no attention unless he did something extravagant and even those vampires who knew him would need to be close to recognise him. It was a gift their Mother had bestowed upon him some time ago and one he found unfailingly useful at times like this.

Arriving somewhat short of breath, Mircea leaned against a way, apparently on his own, perhaps waiting for a friend or lover to meet him. ”You rang, love?” He said to nobody in particular, trusting his Habren to make herself and her location known. Already, it felt good to be on a hunt, even not quite knowing who – or what – he hunted, exactly.

Whatever happened in the coming hours, it was already a far more interesting night than they had perhaps anticipated it being.

"That one's mine."

The tall male followed the blonde's gaze, still staying close even as they slowed down as they approached the trailer she had pointed out. He noted the run-down appearance and slid a suspicious look her way, especially since she couldn't quite see with her back turned to him. Still, worrisome as the sight was (Dom was, by now, vaguely wondering if he was going to be murdered out here, in this place that seemed to be set further apart from the rest), he waited for her to go inside first. After all, he'd been the one to kill that girl, and shoot the swordsman. Whoever this chick was, maybe she was some kind of vigilante against weirdo, amnesiac serial killers like himself. It couldn't be any stranger than the other **** he'd seen and done in the past couple of years.

Yet he knew that those thoughts were far-fetched at best. So far, the mysterious blonde had been nothing but good to him, and all suspicions aside, he was grateful. With that in mind, he tried to follow her in, but something pushed against him. It was a sensation he'd experienced once or twice before while in full pursuit of a victim or two, but nothing he fully remembered. He tried again, his expression certainly one of shock, if not a flash of annoyance.

"What the - ... is this a joke?" He called inside, unable to even look past the invisible barrier in the direction to which she'd gone. Instead, he could only see what was right there in front of him; so far, the interior was a far cry from the exterior. Despite the mild alarm of being unable to actually enter the trailer, he could see that a good measure of care had been put into the inside and this had the potential murder-thoughts completely fleeing his mind.

He blinked, finally giving up against the push that was keeping him out as he settled himself on the front step, confusion etched on his features as he awaited some sort of explanation.

"What the - ... is this a joke?

Madison mentally facepalmed when she heard Domenic calling from the doorway. Turning on her heel quickly she back-tracked to the door and peered out at him with a sheepish look upon her face, "Sorry about that. Forgot, it's been awhile."

He looked so confused, sitting out there on the stoop. Didn't he know that vampires had to be invited into private homes? It was possible he didn't. Madison couldn't really get much of a read on him to figure out how long it had been since he was turned but from his confused features and the way she had found him, covered in blood next to the body of a deceased woman, the telepath assumed that he was a fledgling. One whose sire apparently hadn't taught him much of anything.

Moving back towards the kitchenette area now that she had invited him into her trailer. Going to the sink she opened a draw and pulled out a dishrag. Turning on the water, she held her hand beneath the flow until it started to warm and wet the entirety of the rag. Assuming that Domenic had gotten up off the stoop and finally come inside, Madison turned away from the sink to offer him the rag so that he could clean up the blood that was drying on his skin.

"Here," she said, "You're a bit of a mess."

Habren leaned against the brick wall in the silent, empty alleyway, trying to make sense of that feeling she'd had when the young offender was nearby. Her mind flipped back in time, attempting to take advantage of the silence in order to prod her own memories into submission. After she'd arrived, Maxwell had chased after the pair without needing direction from her; something for which she was exceptionally grateful. He was an amazing little guardian and assistant, one who had been her absolutely saving grace in more than a few instances. She was happy he'd come to her from the Fade when she'd learned to call him, and happier still that he somehow knew just what she needed and when. It was he, after all, who'd taken it upon himself to locate that tome for her, one of the first ones to be found again, in an attempt to keep her out of harm's way. She smiled vaguely at the memory, just as her husband drew near.

"You rang, love?”

A ghost of a smile crossed her lips as she pushed away the shadows that cloaked her in the darkness and leaned up to brush a kiss of hello to his own set. "I did indeed," she confirmed, even knowing he had a custom ringtone for just about all of them, including herself. "But let us speak elsewhere," she murmured, eying up the bounty hunter still prone on the cold ground, clearly injured badly enough that he would be out of commission for a short time, at least. Her gaze narrowed as she took in the form of the male hunting her... ah, damn it all...

She grasped Mircea's hand and led him quietly around the corner, her thoughts returning over and over to the murky time just after she'd risen from the Fade, the time she had not been herself. "My darling, I think... I think the young one might be mine..."

Domenic

His gaze narrowed as the blonde apologized and shot him a sheepish look, but he got to his feet all the same. Forgot about what? He watched her go back inside, then, after debating a few moments, he got past the idea that he was going to look like an idiot or worse, insane, if he tried to go in again, and tried sticking his hand past the door. This time, there was no barrier. He breathed a sigh of relief at both the ability to walk inside, which he did, and the fact that he wasn't as crazy as he thought - clearly the woman had understood and had done something to fix it.

He followed her in, looking around him as he made his way over to the sink, where she handed him a warmed rag. "Thank you," he rumbled softly, still not sure what to make of all this at all. He wiped at some of the blood on his chin and his hands; there was nothing to be done about the shirt though he was thankful it was dark and the drying fluid could only really be felt if he ignored the scent of it. He regarded the blonde standing before him with a curious look, still confused as all hell to be sure, and extended his right hand.

"Domenic, but you can call me Dom if you like," he said. Then, before he could stop himself, the questions began tumbling out. "What was that thing with the door? Do you know what happened back there? 'Cause I sure don't... and who was that dude with the sword? That was nuts!" and, finally, "I'm grateful, I really am, but... why are you helpin' me, instead of reportin' me to the cops?" At this last question, his expression finally fell into grim lines; his curiosity was still there, along with everything else, but his conscience was stabbing hard at him, making him wonder why he deserved any kind of mercy whatsoever.

Madison resisted the urge to watch the man as he cleaned himself up. He probably wouldn't like being studied and stared at, it would be seen as rude. Instead she took the few moments to focus on herself. Sitting down at the small table, the telepath leaned over herself and carefully rolled up her pantleg. Teeth bit into her lower lip as cloth moved over the torn flesh of her calf. The wound was still seeping a bit of blood but not to the extent that it had been. It would heal within the next day or so but the pants were shot. Opening up the cabinet beneath the sink, she pulled out a small first aid kit and opened that to remove a few medical wipes so she could clean the blood from around the open gash.

Crumpling the bloodied wipes in her hand, she threw them away and looked back towards Domenic. He was watching her, still with that confused look upon his face. He held out his hand towards her and Madison reached back with one of her own, grasping his in hers as he introduced himself. She opened her mouth to respond but before she could he was already firing questions at her. Sitting back against the seat she tried to keep track of all of his questions until he finally stopped asking them.

"I'm Madison and you're welcome," she started off with her own introduction. "Why don't you sit down and I'll explain."

She paused for a moment, waiting for him to sit. If he decided to stand, she would simply shrug her shoulders and just start explaining, "I'm not reporting you to the cops because it wouldn't do you or us any good. You'd probably rather be arrested than fall prey to the likes of that guy you took out back in the alleyway. He was a bounty hunter and he would have killed you for the price on your head which I'm going to assume that you got by being sloppy in your feedings."

Madison pointed to the door, "The reason you couldn't get in was because I hadn't invited you in. Other than the drinking of blood, it's probably one of the only myths about vampires that old school Hollywood got one hundred percent right. I'm sure you've figured out we don't burst into flames or sparkle in the sunlight."

The blonde was wholly assuming that Dom knew what he was. That his sire had at least given him that much information before leaving him to figure everything else out for himself. Everything that had just come out of her mouth had done so in a manner and tone that portrayed a sense of normalcy because for her it was normal.

"Who is your sire, Dom?" Madison asked, "Didn't they teach you anything about this life?"

Mircea skidded to such a sudden halt that it wouldn’t have been surprising to see indents in the ground where his heels had dug in. He stared for several moments, blinked twice and then stared for a moment more. ”Yours?” He ventured finally, seeming to find the word to hold a slightly odd aftertaste as it left his mouth. Hers? Another childe? It was true to say that not all sirings ended well; the some humans simply weren’t strong enough in one way or another to survive the event and for others the change broke something within their psyche so that they returned from death as little more than rabid animals and had to be put down for everybody’s own good, but such things were usually tracked, particularly by the Grigori heads. So to hear that there may be another, an unexplained childe and one with a bounty no less, was… Difficult to swallow.

He paused again, deliberating something within his own mind before lifting his wife’s knuckles to his mouth to brush a light kiss across them. Releasing her, he turned on his heel and dipped back into the alleyway where the unfortunate bounty hunter was slowly, slowly beginning to regain some sense of himself and was at that very moment attempting to stumble up to his feet from his prone position. With a grim smile to himself, Mircea stooped, grasping the back of the man’s shirt in one hand as if to haul him to his feet, but no sooner was the hunter moving towards the vertical than Mircea’s knee came up with a sickening crunch against his face, sending blood pouring from his mouth and, now broken, nose before he slumped bonelessly back to the ground. If, as Habren suspected, this childe, rogue or not, was theirs, they would need time to find out and then to decide what to do about it; what they didn’t need was for the hunter to phone a friend for help in tracking him (or now them, Mircea supposed) down to finish what he’d apparently failed to start.

Returning to his wife’s side, he straightened his coat and hat slightly and nodded to himself. A new childe… It had always been a welcome sight before and, despite the surprise and unfortunate manner of this one’s appearance, there should be no reason why this time should be any different. His fingers found Habren’s and wrapped around them with a gentle squeeze. ”Lead the way, love…”

Domenic

Dom did as the woman - Madison - said and took a seat, scrubbing a palm over his face for a moment and shoving his hair out of his face, though it wasn't for long as she began explaining. He was on his feet and pacing at the first mention of feeding, his hands wringing the cloth between them, not realizing he was shredding the fabric with barely any effort. Bounty hunters - okay - that made some sense. He was clearly out killing people; it really wouldn't surprise him if the cops were busy tracking him down. Finally, when the cloth tore in half, he set both pieces on the table with a sheepish "Sorry" and dragged his hands through his hair again with an agitated gesture as he seemed to fixate on one particular word.

He stopped suddenly and stared at the blonde, aghast. "Wait, what? Did you just say 'vampire?' Are you ******* serious?!" The words came out in an astounded tone, before he shook his head. "Sorry," he apologized again, forgetting his manners in his shock and his disturbed state, before one still-bloodstained hand came to cover his mouth. "And we?!" He stopped pacing, his gaze never leaving her, before it moved to the healing cut on her leg and back to her face. "I mean... are you sure? All this weird stuff has been happenin' for like, two years now, with no explanation! I thought I lost my mind..." He stopped and looked at her again, hard, trying to assess whether she was real or a figment of his tortured imaginings. "Maybe I did... I have no idea anymore." After all, it was pretty damned unlikely that some hot blonde chick would come out of nowhere like some guardian angel to save his sorry ***.

He gritted his teeth for a moment, surprised to find his incisors lengthened and as sharp as ever before he simply folded his arms with a grunt and sat down again.

"Sire? You mean, the person who supposedly made me a vampire?" He scoffed slightly. "If its even true, some stuff is beginnin' to make more sense...but I don't know who did it. I woke up one morning with one hell of a sunburn. Ever since, its been trial and error... with a whole lot of a errors."

Habren relaxed slightly under her husband's touch, breathing out a slow sigh as her eyes slid closed and she thought things through once again, even as he released her. The only time she had been so completely out of her head, enough to forget, was just after she left the Fade, when things were still so murky she was simply unable to remember everything she had done. She knew she had felt protected by numbers, had sired more than a few childer, but she had been certain... certain! that all were accounted for in one way or another. How had even one slipped through her fingers? Normally such a cautious woman and absolutely one who supported full secrecy lest they be sent back to the Shadow Realm once again - and gods knew for how long that might be the next time it happened - the thought that this poor, troubled boy was her own had a fist of icy fingers clutching at her still heart.

She cursed quietly in her native tongue, angered with herself for leaving him, even it was unknowingly, before the sound of crunching bone and a splash of ...something... had her eyes snapping open as she looked up and around the corner. Surprise was written all over her features at the sight of her Mircea standing over the once-again prone bounty hunter - her solid, wonderful, beloved Mircea, who always seemed to know just what to do. Despite herself, a soft smile crossed her lips.

As he returned to her, she called out silently for Maxwell, please when the wraith appeared swiftly and delighted to report all he had seen. "At the strange park, the one with the long metal dwellings," he hissed softly to them, sending a ripple of confusion through the woman before she gave a nod of understanding.

"The trailers," she told Mircea, giving a slight tug on his hand as they headed to the nearby destination. "He is with Madison," she added, remembering the flash of blonde hair as the woman raced by with the young one in tow. That alone gave her a measure of relief; she didn't know much about the girl, but she knew she had a level head on her shoulders, even if it was at times a stubborn one. It inspired a small amount of hope, that knowledge, that perhaps the young male might still survive yet.