Apartment 73, The Lavatory, The Regalway Towers, Southport, New Jersey.....
Ron Hemming had recently arrived after his latest talk with Charlotte Freedman about her current pregnancy. He didn't know what to make of the prospect of actually being a father, despite his tendency to bed women that he knew to be ovulating and rather frequently at that. His beast blood often got the better of him in that regard as the desire to procreate had been primal, but to have been given the knowledge that he'd possibly impregnated a mortal woman within his immediate vicinity had been another thing. As he made his way into the house, Ron discarded his shoes and shirt tossing them into a corner as he moved toward the fridge. He took a moment to procure a carton of orange juice before he took notice of a familiar scent that had lit up his living room.
"Out and about are we?" asked the rather charming deep baritone voice of his father, Marcellus Altomare.
The handsome Italian Werewolf was once more wearing a rather expensive grey tailored suit and shiny black dress shoes. His long black locks were at his shoulders and his well-kept beard and mustache were ideal in terms of what one found to be acceptable in grooming. Marcellus got up from the armchair he usually liked to occupy holding a small round glass and swirling the liquid, which Ron knew to be Brandy from the scent of it.
"Would it kill you to use the door at all Da?" asked Ron turning up his carton of orange juice and drinking some down.
"Would it kill you to use manners, I do believe you were taught edicate boy," said Marcellus annoyed with the barbaric way his eldest son had carried himself.
"Da, we are not in Italy or at court," replied Ron feeling a bit of annoyance in his own right. "This is my apartment and I can drink out of the carton if I damn well please."
Marcellus rolled his eyes choosing to ignore the last remark for the benefit of the conversation.
"Ronan, it has come to my attention that there has been something of a development with your Vampirian guest," said Marcellus with a stern expression. "He wishes to meet with you and you alone, but understand that I will not sit idle while you come to harm, immortal or no immortal."
"Understood Da," replied Ron. "Will you be looking after Savannah while I attend this meeting?"
Marcellus smiled taking note of Ron's concern for his new ward.
"Indeed I shall," he replied and Marius will be along shortly.
Ron rolled his eyes.
The last thing he needed was for his idiotic baby brother to take it upon himself to snoop about in his apartment.
"Da...is that really necessary?" he asked not able to get over his baby brother's bratty attitude.
"It is better to be safe than sorry Ronan," replied Marcellus. "Besides he could do with a bit of responsibility, look how it's done wonders for you."
At the mention of the word responsibility, Ron found himself once more thinking back to Charlotte Freedman and the possibility of him having gotten her pregnant from their single encounter.
"About that..." began Ron. "There's something I need to discuss with you Da."
Marcellus acknowledged this and nodded.
"Whatever it is...." he began. "I'm sure it can wait until after the meeting with Athan Accardi."
Ron nodded in agreement before he finished off his orange juice and slipped back into his shirt and shoes. He was all right with leaving Savannah in Marcellus' capable hands, but couldn't shake the feeling of uneasiness about her being around anyone other than himself.
Marcellus seemed to take note of this and smiled.
"Go on," he instructed his son. "She's in good hands."
Ron took the leave of his apartment, negating using his sports car as he'd been headed toward the docks and the foundry after the fact. The moment Ron had gone out the door, Marcellus saw his way to sitting in the same armchair he always frequented and sipping slowly on his glass of swirled Brandy.
It was evident to him that his elder son was fast becoming attached to the dead Wolf Hunter's daughter and he didn't know what to make of the implications in his own right.
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The Berkley Warehouse, Berkley and Flint Street, Southport, New Jersey.....
Ron reached the old foundry warehouse in good time as the telltale signs of nightfall came into play. He thought about the first time he arrived at this place, chasing after a scent that was foreign and dangerous. Now here he was simply strolling toward the lair of a known Vampirian as if his kind and the creature had not been a war for untold centuries. As a young lad, he was told the history of the beginnings of the iconic war, as in the old days, Where Clans were subjected via the Vampirian masses along with the unsuspecting mortals of the earth.
Having grown tired of mistreatment and being mere slave dogs for monstrous beasts, Were Clans revolted and the mortals along with them against the terrors that ruled the night once it was discovered that a weakness to all things sun related made the seemingly immortal foul beings mortal enough to be killed. The Original Were Clans seized the opportunity, heavily underestimated via the arrogance of the Vampirians, and with the backing of the mortals they decimated the captors and destroyed much of the Vampirian kingdoms and family lines before securing their long and hard-fought for freedom.
Finally free of the Vampirian tyrants, the Were Clans became the new power in the shifting worlds until the mortals turned on The Weres and began to combat many of their ranks with silver in defiance of a second possible tyrannical ruler lording over them and treating them like cattle.
The three factions had called a true to avoid outright slaughter, The Vampirians weakened via sunlight opted to keep their distance in the remainder of their territories and The Were Clans did the same due to being subjected to silver and the shifting of the moon. The mortals got to have their lives unimpeded by either supernatural force and as a result, three different worlds and societies remained parallel to one another.
The door to the warehouse opened and this time Ron Hemming was greeted rather warmly as he entered only to find himself standing face to face with Rita Graves, Athan's blood-drinking female model daughter.
"Hey there handsome," she said teasingly. "Long time no see."
Ron said nothing as he followed her into the dark recesses of the newly restructured warehouse.
Rita smirked as she moved making exaggerated movements to sway her hips and wiggle her perfect arse in Ron's face as they moved toward the inner sanctum of Athan's lair. Ron growled feeling the stirring of his loins due to his wayward beast blood but remained focused on the task at hand. The last thing he needed was another lecture on self-discipline from his father.
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Inner Sanctum, Athan's Lair, The Berkley Warehouse, Berkley and Flint Street, Southport, New Jersey.....
Just as before, Ronan Seamus Hemming found himself standing in the center of a semi-darkened room with guards surrounding him as Rita smirked in his direction and took her place at the side of her ancient father, Athan Accardi.
The elder vampirian seemed to delight in seeing Ron as his already freakish yellow eyes were positively glowing once stood before him.
"So, son of Altomare, did you enjoy the afternoon romp you had with my youngest daughter?" asked Athan with a smirk.
Ron was caught off guard by the line of questions and the fact that the infamous Athan knew of his previous encounter with his daughter Rita.
"Depends," replied Ron keeping his cool as if he had expected her to inform her father of their private dealings. "You got any news for me?"
"I do indeed," replied Athan with a twisted smile. "They were beast hunter's death was an unfortunate brand of miscommunication between my brother and the fool he selected to see to the arrival of the aforementioned wolf hunter, the thin blood got ahead of themselves seeking the blood for their gain and well...you ended their miserable existences."
"So do you know who this fool is?" Ron asked tilting his head like that of an annoyed dog.
"Indeed I do," replied Athan with an eerie smile. "My daughter will give you all the details but the chosen liaison for this assignment is none other than Karlos Aventium."
Ron seemed quite annoyed at the name of the chosen liaison for Vincenzo's dastardly plot to capture the Wolf Hunter.
He had known of Karlos Aventium for quite some time, going back to his fledgling era in Italy where the twisted pirate bastard had captured many a vessel and one seal killer ship that happened to have been the one Seamus Ryan Hemming was on board at the time Karlos and his raiders attacked it.
Ron was quite furious about the ordeal even though he and Seamus had never got on, even before he'd been given to his beast blood, having to deal with the knowledge that a bloodsucker murdered his drunken biological father was something Ron never could stand.
"So it's Karlos is it?" he asked with his fangs bared and his eyes a glow with rage.
Athan seemed interested in the events as he perked once he saw the brutish beast nearly emerging from the handsome male model that stood before him.
"Rita dear is he...?" began Athan with a smile.
"Indeed he is," replied Rita recalling just how powerful Ron had been during their unseemly sex romp back at the agency building.
"Oh my," replied Athan pleased by what he saw. "I am truly looking forward to seeing what you can do, Son of Altomare."
Ron seemed to have what he needed as Rita graciously handed him a map of where the ideal location for Karlos had been.
She kissed Ron on the cheek, much to the delight of her father, and watched as the brooding werewolf took his leave of them, leading back to the surface of the warehouse via the guards like he had been previously.
Ron barely composed himself as he found his father was awaiting his return with the provided intel.
"It was an interesting conversation I trust?" asked Marcellus Altomare with an arched brow.
"Karlo is the one Vincenzo sent to the States to do his bidding," said Ron through gritted teeth.
Marcellus took notice of the name and sighed.
"I shall handle this from here," he said swiftly.
"Da..." began Ron only for Marcellus to bare his fangs at his older son.
"You will stand down on this occasion, history aside you know what you are tasked to do," replied Marcellus proving to be an expert in concealing secrets as he had not even hinted at them having the Wolf Hunter's daughter hidden away.
"As you wish," replied Ron embittered about the whole thing. "Da."
Marcellus sighed and placed a hand on the angry Ron's shoulder.
"You will have your day yet my son," he assured him. "But not today."
With that Marcellus took off as quickly as he arrived leaving Ron to sulk as he walked away from the warehouse alone.