Alistair's head rolled back with a melodramatic yawn as the scribes appeared. Why had he even agreed to grant them access through the tunnels? He waved a hand lazily in greeting, as they moved closer. Clan Blackmoore's leader and, by association, the clan itself had never been one for keeping history. Scratching down the exposures meant only one thing -- mistakes could not become water under the bridge as easily as he liked.

Even so, he was duty-bound to the scribes to give a response. "Nothing new on either front," he lied, the words bitter on his tongue but something he had done before on many occasions. He preferred honesty, when he could manage it. Currently, there was one vampire on the brink of exposing their culture to a human girl, of all things, but he would deal with him personally without involving outsiders.

Sarcastically he added, "Is that all, Franklin? Not come to steal a few of the fledgelings for your Court?"