Praetor sighed. "Listen I have little time for you Bea-" His phone rang and he picked up, He heard the words tumble from the boys mouth and he cursed. The boy had always fancied himself a tough warrior, called himself War when he really went mad with it. Placing the phone back in his pocket. He summoned three riders, French Calvary Napoleonic. He began to issue order in perfect French. He turned back to Trixy. "Love drives us and can kill us. Seems he's broken just like you thought, but I'll tell you one thing, I've seen a lot immortals who can't find anything to cling to... They go mad. Hell I'm halfway there myself, now can I get a drink? I'm going to have to after Lucian." He cracked his neck and stood up, he might hae seemed tense earlier but this was a new level, his teeth were sharper, he dripped anger and rage. Like every years worth of hate he had been alive had been bottled up. Anything that stood between him Lucian well... Unless it as old as him it had little chance of survival.