"Martin Kingsley, Jacob Kingsley, Kathrine..." Mithias clasped his hands behind his back as he walked by the glass display cases. The room was poorly lit, but he didn't need any additional light to read easily. Black and white photos and painted portraits of the Kingsley ancestors enticed him. Mithias practically felt like part of the family. Hardly anyone nowadays had this much family history. Bible verses were written on the scabbards of swords and quivers of bows. A perfectly functional, bladed bola made his jaw drop open, and he went over to it. What a surprising weapon this would be! It was probably a bit slow to catch himself, as old as he was, but even Mithias admitted he would not have expected this to be thrown at him. He smiled, reaching out to grace it with his vampire fingertips, then drew his hand back. Ahh, it had holy symbols on it. Nice touch, hunters. 

Things were far too quiet up stairs. Mithias' was more interested in the people who lived here. He wanted to meet this large and established family he had just seen so much of. Using his speed and heightened senses, he dodged the servant staff and crept his way into the basement. Now able to hear the conversations very clearly, Mithias ducked into a small bedroom. Looking down, he recognized the trunk from the carriage that had passed him earlier. An opened missive lay on the bed. "To Alex Moriaty..." It was addressed.