The old church, still lit with candles, cast shadows aross the floor. The shadows blended, separated, flickered tall and broad to weak and small, giving the illusion of ghosts flying about overhead. It was silent. Dust had not settled on the pews yet, meaning there was activity here. But, like the shadows, those that flickered about this church were nothing but ghosts of this world.

Colton looked so unchanged. His parents, now in their old age, had commented on how "time seemed to stop" for him. He hadn't changed in years. Four long, long years. His shadow added to those cast by the candles, and his footfalls broke the silence. Nothing had changed. There were his old, black Converse, a gift from his sire and his trademark shoe of choice since he was 15. And faded blue jeans, tailored to fit his long legs and thin frame by a girl he couldn't love anymore. And his shirt, purchased for a birthday seven years earlier, showing its age in the threadbare look, the small hole that had appeared at the seem of his left sleeve. It had been Jake's, and, yes. Even seven years later, he hadn't been able to get over him.

Colton was the youngest vampire in this church, and yet he was the leader. Not just leader of this sect. He was the leader of the whole Nephim coven. Chance, fate, circumstance--whatever you'd like to call it--had conspired against him and put him in the wrong place at the wrong time. And now... Now he had more power than he knew what to do with. More than he wanted.

Also more work. Smart coven leaders had servents to file paperwork, but Colton had never been respected enough in his coven to warrent getting anyone to help out with papers. Forgery of death certificates. Name changes. Fake licenses and passports. The vampires held store of the largest underground illegal paper system on earth. And, while convenient, it was a lot of work.

Like any disrespecting Christian, Colton dropped the stack of papers and folders he was carrying on the alter table. A thin poof of dust ghosted the air around them, mixing with the mist of Colton's breath in the cold church. He ran a finger along the engravings on the side of the table as he circled around back of it, moving towards the three alter chairs. The one in the center was more throne than chair, and Colton took a seat in it, pulling his muddied shoes up on the cushion and hugging his knees to his chest.

He shut his eyes and leaned back in his throne. Just like his church, the only thing that fickered across his mind were the images of ghosts. Ghosts, that faded and burned in his memory, but would never again appear on this earth.

Helen walked up the cobbled walkway of the old St. Mary's church, holding Michael's hand, leading him with her. She pushed open the big church doors, and noticed the flickering candles which had not been burning when she had been there a few days earlier.

As she walked down the aisle, still holding Michael's hand, she looked back at him with a questioning look. She noticed the shadow of a boy, and raised an eyebrow. She neared the throne, which the shadow was near, and let go of Michael's hand. She kneeled next to it, and titled her head. "Sir?" She whispered, not really wanting to disturb this boy, but figure out who he was.

Helen looked back to Michael for some guidance, but returned her gaze to the boy, in case he opened his eyes. "Michael, who is this?" She whispered into his mind.

They had awoken tonight, Michael of course before his little Hellen, and they had it in mind to collect her things from the coven house. Michael had only been their once in hopes to meet the Coven leader. But the man, Colton Holstein, had not been in for a while he was told but apparently he was back now for the moment they entered the church, he saw him. How he knew that this was Colton... He wasn't sure, but he knew.

He took in the young man's apperance as they approached. Sandy blond hair... Thin and slender, probably around the same height as he while standing...

He held back a smile as Helen asked who this man was.

"Colton Holstein, I presume." He said with a rather courtly bow to the young man. Young in vampire years yes... But he was still a coven leader. Interesting circumstances must have come about to put so young a vampire at the head of a coven.

He reached down and touched Helen's arm gently to bring her to his side.

"It is good to see that you are back in town again. I was afraid the presure had been too much. I have seen many Coven leaders crumble under the preasures." He was curious indeed to see how this young one was handling the situation.

There was a familiar creak from the old door as Helen and Michael entered. Colton eyed them tentatively. His coven, yet neither one recognizable. Where was Ratter? And Elena? Why couldn't Nicodemus show his old face around here anymore?

"Presumed correctly," Colton said, his voice a warm tenor. He smiled a small, lopsided grin, which helped erase the frown marks on his forehead. "And, I don't know either of you..." The smile faded away as he glanced between them. His look wasn't unfriendly, but more uncertain and curious, with a hint of distrust. He had seen too much to be as fully trusting as he used to be.

Colt stood from the chair, proving Michael right as he unfurled all six feet of himself. Tall, perhaps, but definitely not imposing. He was narrow at the hips and shoulders, and almost completely deprived of muscle form. If he had known he would have been cursed to eternity in this form, he might have gone to the gym a bit more often, and spent less time fussing with his unruly hair. But, what can you say. Hindsight is always 20/20.

He offered each of them his hand. "Thank you... The Mexico City set is falling apart at the seams... I don't know how long I'll be around," he answered Michael, a sadder smile taking hold. Mexico City was especially bad these days... The sect leader was violent with rage, jealousy, and hatred, not just at the Independents that were tearing the sect to shreads, but at Colton for being so annoyingly childish. 'Let it go!', he had said. Pfft. Like anyone would have taken Colton seriously.

"Have I missed anything around here?" He paced away a few steps, glancing around the church.

Helen's eyes went wide, as she realized who she was talking to. She returned to Michael's side, and looked up at him, almost in awe. Looking for what to do. She had never been in the face of a leader of any sort.. But knew the basic etiquitte towards someone of respect.

Helen took a slight step forward, and took Colton's hand, and dipped a bit in a curtsie. She felt a little akward doing a curtsie in pants, but it would have to do. It had been nearly a century since she had done a full blown curtsie wearing her original lifetime's attire. After a brief nod of respect, Helen returned to Michael's side, not quite sure what to say, other than her name.

"It is a pleasure meeting you Sir Holstein. I am Helen Gustare." Her face was soft, but cold, not exactly one of a warming expression. Polite, but nothing more. She stood still, watching the coven leader closely, unsure of him. Mexico City? She didn't quite remember anything of that sort... Other than it was south of the United States of America... Her geography unfortunately was a little restricted.

Helen wondered how difficult it must be being the coven leader... At any age. Taking care of such a broad group of people... She couldn't even take care of herself! She had depended on somone for the majority of her life to take care of her. She respected Colton not only because he was the leader, but because his young face held so much more than years could tell.

She smoothed her long hair, put up messily in its usual loose bun, and held her hands gently across her front. It was the traditional posture her grandmother had taught her to use, and old habits die hard. Helen watched Colton for a few moments, and then looked to Michael, lost in this social activity. To think, in her natural life, she would have been friendly, and more inclined to strike up a conversation... But everything was different now.

Michael shook the man'd hand firmly with a slight bow of his head. The man deserved some respect for his position, but of course most respect had to be earned.

"Missing anything? I could not say. I have only arrived in the past few weeks so I would not know. Besides, I usually do not spend my time among the coven itself I find the politics to trite to deal with... Most of the coven leaders I have met have the mentality of mortal leaders, as if we all die off eventualy." He gave a slight shrug.

"But yes, introductions. I am Michael deLamont. And Helen is my recently adopted fledgling." He had no true fledglings though... He had always been waiting for the right one...

"You seem to be in the middle of something... Should we perhaps leave for the time being, or is there anyway we may be of some assistance?" He asked politely.

((Sorry, he's still being an ass...))

Colton's smiled widened just the smallest bit in reaction to Helen's awe of him. That wasn't a reaction he got often... The older, more pompous vampires regarded Colton with a cold indifference. Leader by name, but the title was as empty as the Queen of England. He was thought of as no more than a figure head.

"You can call me Colton, Ms. Gustare," he said kindly. The smile faded when her face kept cold, polite, and so like those of the elders. It made him fidget slightly, the discomfort giving away just how young he felt around the rest of his coven. Unconsciously, he began rocking gently on his heels. He wasn't terribly comfortable around people.

"Ah... Then nevermind," he said, turning away from Michael and Helen. If he had only been a few weeks, then he wouldn't know about the others. Did it hurt to ask? "Actually, Mr. deLamont," he said, spinning back towards them. "Do you happen to know if a man named Ratter has been through here recently? And... Um. The leader of the Enashe coven. Has she gotten back to town yet?"

As much as Colton despised the filthy man, Ratter was Colton's second. He was the only one to take Colton half seriously since he had taken over. It probably had something to do with the fact that Ratter was always high off something, thus couldn't give a rat's ass either way. And as for the esteemed Lilla Colwyn... Well, Colton could worry about his sire's wellbeing, right?

Helen noticed Colton's uneasiness, and walked up to him, gently placing a hand on his shoulder, to comfort him. She knew she could be cold, but hadn't meant to make anyone uncomfortable. Her lost nature seemed to be resurfacing itself again. "Helen." She corrected him.

She lifted her hand, after giving him a reassuring smile, and returned to Michael's side. She hoped she had not offended Colton... But hoped he would see her intenstions... To lessen his discomfort.

She wasn't a fan of politics... But hey, what leader didn't have to deal with politics. Helen herself would be in bewilderment if she had to deal with the schemes of others and strange attempts of corruption. Which is how she viewed politics anyways.

And as Helen corrected him, Michael would have done so too in another time period. But of course his titles meant nothing today. Sir, Lord, Vicomte... It was all just airs really. Besides- "Michael will do. Formal as somethings may be, names are one thing I gave up on long ago. After all, most title back in my time are nothing but jokes today." He said with an awkward smile. It was indeed strange, to be under the lead of one so young... And according to his words he was not just the leader of the locak chapter, but of the entire coven at least on this continent.

"But no. I have not heard of such a man. I would most likely remember that name if I had. And as for the other Coven leader." He shook his head again. "Again I have to say I do not know. I rarely associate with my coven, let alone other covens, Sir." He said almost appologeticly. "I wish I could be of more assistance of course, but a rather private life like mine does not come without a few draw backs."

Hell, he didn't even know where the other covens had their headquarters. It was only through the grapevine he had even heard of the headquarters for his own coven. Rather a pitty really. But here he was none the less. He knew where it was even if he had only been here twice. His lack of love for politics drove him away from active participation in covens long ago.

Colton attempted an easy smile at Helen when she corrected him. He was slightly unnerved by her touch, but he hadn't been a terribly touchable person ever, so the fault was not attributed to her. He let some of his discomfort fade as she returned to Michael's side.

Colton nodded, feeling slightly sick at the abstracted mention of Michael's age. He felt so inferior. So small and useless. He didn't let those feeling show through on his expression. Just nodded and folded his arms across his chest.

"Ah, no, that's understandable," Colton said. "You're allowed to have a life." They were all allowed to be private. They were all allowed to have secrets. Heck, even Colton, leader of the Nephim, was able to keep a fairly big secret from the majority of the vampires in the world. He was raising a child, alone, to the best of his abilities. And he was not letting that secret slip. Celeste's safety was so key to his happiness.

Colton went back to pacing. No Lilla. That was all right--she could take care of herself. He'd know if anything bad happened to her. The grapevine wasn't as air-tight as it could be, and Colton had his sources.

But no Ratter unnerved him. The man was hardly ever sober--and Colton feared the day when Ratter did withdraw from his drug use--so something happening to him was much more likey. Worry seeped into his sharp, stern features as he begand to pace.

"Well, I'm sorry for stopping you... You can go on ahead with... Whatever you need to do," Colton said, waving a hand towards the Catacombs. He had many more questions, but being young was bad enough. Being young and a bother was worse.

Helen touched Michael gently on his chest, and walked towards the catacombs. As she entered the dark hallways... She could hear her boots scuffing against the floor, and the sqeaks, and pitter patter of rodents all around her. She past four doors, and went inside the fifth, which she had claimed to her own. It was in the middle of the hallway. Not to far down, or too close.

She pushed open the rickety door, and walked to her bedside. Both the blouse, and the skirt which she had purchased with Catherine were on the bed with gray sheets, and her heels had been placed under the bed slightly. She crouched slightly, and picked them up, setting them next to the folded articles of clothing.

Helen ran a hand through the small chuck of hair that still refused to be tamed, and kept in her bun. She placed it behind her ear, and took her finger, and pressed it against her lips; thinking. Then, she remembered, the necklace, and book she had kept with her since the death of her grandmother. She pulled it out from the pillowcase on her bed.

She placed the folded blouse on top of the folded skirt, and the book on top of that, and the heels on top. After gathering her things, she sat on the bed, looking around the dank room she had been calling her home. She smiled, and set her eyes on the floor, in thought.

"I am sorry that I could not be of more help Mr. Holstine. I know that it can be rather frustrating to loose ones friends." Michael said with a smile. "But we were just here to gather Helen's things." He said as Helen excused herself. He ran a hand affectionately over the top of her head as she passed him.

"I have taken her n as my fledgling. She seemed to have been all alone since her turning some time ago, but I felt even though she has a strong grasp on our world that it would be best for her to have that connection and relationship.” He said as he looked after her fondly, still seeing her in his minds eye as he made his way through the door. But did he simply feel for her the way a sire did? Like a father? Or were there other feelings that Michael was trying to keep buried… Or were those feelings not even for her?

What a vampire his dear Claudia would make…

He gave the slightest of sighs as he shook his head.

“Is there any way I could be of service Mr. Holstine?” Michael asked. “I would hate to be of no service to the recently returned coven leader.” He gave a fond smile. He felt rather formal in his suit, but that was pretty much what he wore everyday. He felt comfortable in them and it seemed to change the way humans looked at him as well. It was like seeing a man in a knight’s tunic or in armor almost. It was what the nobility of this day and age wore or so it seemed.

"No, it's al right," Colton said as Michael apologized for his lack of information. Colton hadn't expected him to know--it would have been unfair to expect anything from this coven member. Unfair ever to expect the level of respect he was receiving.

Colton pursed his lips as he watched Helen disappear down into the catacombs. He nodded gently as Michael explained their relationship. "I agree." Relationships were essential to everyone's wellbeing. Colton couldn't help but let the pang of jealousy resonate through him. He had no relationships, save that of his sire and his niece. His sire treated him with indifference these days--did she ever worry about him as he worried about her? And his niece... Celeste would love him unconditionally until she died. But that was the thing. She would die, and then who would Colt have left?

His jealousy was redirected from Helen to the dead. Why couldn't he have died those four years back?

Colton shoved his hands in his pocket and shook his head. "You should go be with her. I don't need any sort of assistance. Thank you, though, Michael. And, please, call me Colton." He returned the older vampire's kind smile.

Helen took another sweep with her eyes around the room, and then stood. The bed made a slight creek from the old springs in the mattress. She bent down, and picked up her things. At this moment she wished she had some sort of bag, or suitcase, so she wouldn't be parading her belongings through the city.

Then she thought... Pillowcase? She wasn't sure if she was welcomed to such things. She set her neat pile of belongings back on the bed, and left the room. She weaved through the catacombs to where she was back in the main area of the church. "Colton, do you mind if I borrow a pillowcase from my room to carry my things in?"

Her hands hung loosely from her wrists at her side, and she was completely still. She blinked once or twice, but looked to Colton for approval of the pillowcase. What was she going to do if he refused her? Would she be forced to carry her things in her arms so openly for everyone, including Michael and Colton to see what few belongings she had, and how pathetically poor she was? It was so embarrassing.

She felt like a worthless child. She couldn't take care of herself, she couldn't make herself enough money to buy more clothes, or buy a house, or anything. Her head was hung, but not low enough to make her look somber in any way. Just enough for what Colton might think, was out of respect. Her big blue eyes then rose, and questioned him.