“Well, the vamp 'fell in love' with a human lass – told her all about us – but he just need a good thwack over the head–“ Alistair's good cheer was returning, evidenced by the tentative smile spreading across his face... or at least it was, until his ears twitched in agony. Whatever that noise was, the feral roar, it was nothing good.

Quickly he broke away from Beatrix, trusting her to follow at her leisure, and re-entered the Tortuga, noting that the few humans who frequented the place had been knocked unconscious. He wasn't half-surprised, after all, his head was still ringing with the sound. “Maria?” he called worriedly. “Maaaaaria?”

It wasn't long until he discovered the source of the problem, slowing his steps to a more human-like pace and calming his nerves once he discovered the singer unharmed. Good. “Surely disturbing such a budding young romance is beneath you... Van Helsing?” he said to Praetor, shuddering internally at having to deal with him a third time in one night.

Although he had a gut feeling that Maria was on the brink of choosing beneath the family she was born into and her new beau's, he stepped between her and Praetor as she tried to frantically calm her young lover. Ever the opportunist, Alistair wondered whether it would be possible to convince both of them to stay – become Blackmoores. One who appeared to be trained by a Van Helsing would be useful in dealing with exposures, which was the clan's forte... and it would keep his lovely Maria around...

“Let it be known that those of my own blood will always be welcome in Clan Blackmoore territory, as well as those they choose as their mates,” he continued suavely, nodding to both Maria and Praetor as he chose his next words carefully. “And believe it or not, drinking from humans is only a – suggestion. We have a small sect of your kind, too, Lucian - if that even is your name - and the worst we do is tease them.”