This is How the Big Girls Play Who: Trigger and Domina When: late morning Where: Ad Gustum What: Watch and learn.
The bad thing about setting up shop in a new city was the loss of standing and local knowledge. Scarlet Oak was yet another pond into which she'd migrated with no real back ground knowledge save the second hand tales of Friday-friendly hunters in the Ann Arbor and Detroit area. Sure there was the media: Heme, the vampire stars and starlets, the high influx of supe civilians, racial political shit storms and - at the centre of all of this - the Moritarty family in all their filthy dirty rich glory.
Soaked in enough supernatural blood to be hunters worthy of a name, but never would be, they scared the living shit out of anyone who know anything about anyone and how the black under belly of the world worked. They made men vanish. They sucked the marrow of those that crossed them. They smiled and slid a friendly arm about your shoulder and stoked your ego, then gutted your for your standing. They were merciless as the most mindless supe hater, but they had intent and no loyalties. They were deadly nightshade. Undiluted.
And Trigger was at their front door.
"I'm afraid that the miss is quite busy right now," the doorman was saying.
Trigger and her truck looked strange among the tinted glass Mercedes Benz, Vipers, and sports cars lined around the front. More bizarre in her jeans and her leather jacket with her unlit Marlboro on her lips. Trigger had to had it to her: Fierce bitch was fierce. This was an enterprise of epic fucking proportions. Something the Fridays could never hold a candle to, that no hunting family could. She was very fucking impressed."
"Tell her, Kim Friday is here about the business. Also do not fail to mention that Wesley has a bit fat mouth on him and it has less teeth in it than it used to. It about liquid commodities." She patted the butler on his fancy suit jacket shoulder. "Thanks a ton, hon."