Xaviers!

After making her fearsome presence felt at the club, Wanda had called the car and had it drive her home. She always thought Cavendish House was a bit too on the nose for looking like a vampire haunt, but it was her "father's" money and not hers. When the car pulled up in front of the house, she was greeted by a young woman who had just been edging towards 20 when she was turned. She wore a veil over the upper half of her face, though that didn't seem to impede her mobility at all. "Good evening, mother," the young woman said, bowing slightly to Wanda. Wanda smiled at her, "Good evening, daughter. You didn't have to meet me at the door."

"You have a visitor," she said. "I didn't want you unaware."

Wanda frowned, "Very well. Could they not have dealt with your grandfather?"

"He's not here right now. Business in Ireland."

"Oh, right. Well, let us see what our visitor wants," she said, gesturing for the young woman to lead the way into the house.

((Somewhat Open))

They passed one of the house staff and Wanda paused to give orders, "Place a call to Jeremiah. I want people on the lookout for a man transporting a wolf cub. If they see him, they are to tail him unless he's leaving the city. Then capture him and take possession of the cub. If they run into the werewolves, they are to leave them alone." The staff person nodded and moved off to follow the order.

They moved on and the young woman opened the door to the library for Wanda, following her in to shut the door and take up position there as Wanda appraised their visitor. "Apologies for the delay. Family business, I'm sure you understand."

((Still open))

The visitor was a man in black who, rather than turn, simply kept looking over the books on display.

"You have a marvelous collection here Miss Johansson."

To vampire senses; the human smelled of oak, incense, blood, and old magic. He felt vaguely menacing somehow.

"Most of it is my father's," she said with a gracious smile. "But the compliment is appreciated. You know my name, but I'm afraid I'm a bit uninformed as to yours."

He turned to face her, chuckling in self-depreciation.

"My apologies, sometimes I forget my manners. Chase Delacroix. Father Chase Delacroix if you want to get technical."

He pulled down his sweater collar to show his red priest collar, identifying himself as a Sanguinis Miles of the Ut Umbras as required by ancient pact.

"Ah," she gestured to one of the chairs, "Please have a seat, Father or Mister Delacroix if you prefer." She'd suddenly got a lot more cagey than she had been a moment ago. "Is this a social call? Can I have one of the staff get you something to drink?"

"Mister. Titles are for old men. And I'd kill for a glass of bourbon about now."

"...bad choice of words," he smirked. "Business I'm afraid, though not about anyone here."

She nodded, masking her relief. The veiled young woman moved to a small sidebar and poured a glass of bourbon. She set it next to Chase before moving back to her spot in front of the door. While she did so, Wanda asked, "What may I do to assist you in your business?"

He took a swig.

"You may have heard about the fire at the home of MP Marsh," he said, "That was us."

"Unfortunately... the entity..." he said hesitantly, "...escaped containment."

"That's... disconcerting. We will, of course, render any assistance you require." Mostly because the last thing I need is London overrun with more of your order. "How can we help?"

"All we need at this point is the extra eyes out for anything otherworldly. We don't know if the entity is the cause or a symptom, but whatever is going on doesn't play nice with the laws of nature. Plant growth especially."

He pulled out a photo of a young man with dark hair. "And watch for him. We believe he's its host."

She looked at the photo, "If Miranda can take that for a moment, we'll have copies made and distributed to our people." The veiled young woman stepped forward in preparation to be handed to photo.

"Of course," he nodded, handling it to the veiled woman,

"His name is Aubrey Shane Marsh, estranged son of the MP. He had made a rare trip home when things went sideways. If he isn't a host then he's complicit. Either way, his ties to it make him extremely dangerous."

Miranda took the photo and left the room. "Our people will be additionally cautious then. Do you know how the entity affects those already dead?"

A haunted expression briefly crosses him face. "Only actual corpses I'm afraid. It... grows things inside them, turning them into shambling husks."

"Very important that we find it then. I can't imagine the level of problems it would cause if it draws the public's attention."

"Between you and me, this thing feels like a bad omen. My superiors refuse to see it, but the rats in the walls are getting... restless."

"You aren't the only one who has noticed... just between you and me, of course."

"I imagine my stubborn old men pale before the hard-headedness of yours," he chuckled.

"Some of mine have several centuries of stubbornness on your old men." Miranda came back into the room and offered the photograph back to Chase.

"My implication exactly," he smirked as he pocketed the photo.

"I would offer you a place to stay, but somehow I doubt you would rest easily under this roof, regardless of assurances. Where can we contact you?"

"Hotel Braddock. Ask the desk for Howard Ramsey."

"I'll certainly do that," she said, standing. "Miranda will show you out. I am afraid it has been quite the night for me."

He finished off the bourbon.

"Thank you for your time Miss Johansson," he answered politely before being shown out.

When Miranda returned, Wanda was still sitting in the chair. "I'm going up to bed. Have someone sent up there for dinner." She rose and headed out of the library, retreating to her bedroom.