On one wall inside Finn Howard's heavily guarded town home was a bank of flat-screen televisions. All but one were muted. Adam Thurston's crowd-pleasing speech issued from the plasma television in all its high definition glory. But Finn was not paying much attention; he didn't need to. The reactions of the other vampires around him was enough.
"This human is trouble," said one male vampire to Finn's left, slung casually across a black leather armchair. He was known for being melodramatic, and it often annoyed the sheriff to the point where he'd throw the miscreant bodily from his residence.
"No," said Finn. "He's par for the course." With the remote, he paused the digitally recorded segment and leaned back. "What troubles me is the church. The public doesn't know what they're capable of, and that's what bothers me. This place is ripe for an uprising, and with more firepower, more support, than ever seen before."
His eyes swept over the glass table before him. It was littered with half empty bottles of True Blood, which annoyed Finn. He only bothered with the muck in public. In private, he had donors more than willing to provide their blood to him, and with no messy clean-up afterward. It was widespread knowledge that some humans, for whatever reason, willingly gave themselves to vampires in return for many things; sex, money and thrills being only a few among those possible reasons.
The sheriff was more willing to pay than to connect himself physically to some pathetic, desperate human. He did it occasionally, but he hated the fragility, the need, and the warmth. And they would never get a taste of his blood. That was why he had never been a maker. He imagined the vampire progeny would be nothing more than a parasite, and he didn't need that.
He could hardly stand his own guards' presence around him home, but it was necessary; his own maker, the previous sheriff of Area 2, had been slain by the self-proclaimed Soldiers of the Sun. Kidnapped, draped heavily in silver chains and introduced to the sun until he was nothing more than a blackened, dried out skeleton. They had personally seen to it that Finn was delivered his remains. He had to give the humans one thing: they knew where to exploit the few emotional weaknesses that vampires possessed.
"Then what do you think we should do about it?," another member of his nest asked.
"I say we kill them all, and don't get caught doing it." This brought a round of appreciative laughter from those gathered in the room, and some even showed their fangs.
Finn and Adam weren't so different, and the sheriff thought it high time that Mr. Thurston started to see that fact. He would assist him there.