Integra had only caught the end of the broadcasting with this Magneto buffoon how superior they were to humans just before the television set died. Absolutely unremarkable, in her opinion, cutting of the access to television was not the proof of superior power. Everybody with decent resources and mad enough to spend them in self-glorifying terrorist antics were able to perform the same feat.
“We are going out,” she had ordered her chauffer; once the network exchanged had become particularly dull. No information about this chap. Nothing useful to take on account in case he posed a significant menace. She took her long coat and her sword with her before sliding into the black Rolls Royce. As usual, she had instructed to her driver to leave her in a bad neighbourhood until the morning after. Slaying those vampires was hardly a hunt, but it was enough to relive her stress. She was a hunter, born and raised, in spite of her aristocratic pretences she enjoyed being predatory and the sight of her enemies dead by her hand was a growing enticement.
“Did it excite you?” her cheeky vampire servant had asked her in the past, just after she had closely watched the massacre he had done in her name. The knight had been outraged and flustered at the implication. It was truth, in part, she had enjoyed herself. Bloody clever git that Alucard. She missed his presence.
At the first morning rays, the good man came back to lift her from the streets. He asked no questions about his wealthy boss eccentric past times, he was paid to drive and not to interrogate her. Her hair was disorderly arranged and she had dust on her clothes and gloves. The only better trait about this particular species of the undead was that they were convenient to avoid laundry questions. Bloodstains would make the matter far more complicated to explain.
During her ride back, Integral leaned back to relax the tension of her neck and hands and there, she spotted Lindsey on the streets. “Stop the car,” she ordered casually, motioning to approach the man walking at their left. The knight lowered the window to corroborate she was correct in her assumption. Once his identity was confirmed, Integra opened the door and descended from her vehicle to approach him.
“Good morning, Mr. McDonald,” she greeted while she briefly surveyed his features. She recalled the potential resignation announcement he posted in the forum. “A rough night?”