perenawska:

Irina didn't mind playing taxi for the Champions. They were her team, her family now, and she was glad to help them when she could. A portal from New Orleans to New York was opened and Irina waited for Lyta to go through. Irina had called ahead because her Highness' aim and temper were legendary and Irina didn't want to provoke her if necessary. Especially in her current condition.

Lyta had wanted a shopping trip with the Grand Duchess and the arrangements to meet in New York were made and Irina was more than happy to provide transportation. She had offered to get the Grand Duchess in Boston, but Anya was already in New York.

"After you," she said to Lyta.

bite_me:
Following their, well, she wouldn't call it a defeat, but certainly their... stalemate with Dracula, Michelle had offered the others her cell phone number and told them to call her if anything turned up.  Which left her with hours to fill and a hunger that had to be satisfied.  With great reluctance, she had admitted to herself that she needed something that got her out in the world.

What surprised her, however, was where that had ended up being.  It was a bar called Fangtasia, of all things.  Apparently the name came from some TV show or book or something, she wasn't sure, other than knowing it was a lawsuit waiting to happen one of these days, but it catered to a special clientele.  No, not vampires, thankfully, but vampire groupies, the people who fantasized about vampires but still craved some measure of a safe environment.  With her dark hair, pale skin, and well, general slight unnaturalness, she'd been a shoe-in for a barmaid position. 

It paid the bills.  And she suspected from time to time, she might overhear things.  More importantly, however, it was good for providing meals.  She'd discovered, quite by accident, that if she really, really focused and was calm and had her mind clear, she could briefly put someone into a hypnotic trance.  Not for long and it didn't work on everyone--and she had to absolutely be in the exact right frame of mind herself--but it was enough, sometimes, to convince people to step away and let her have a little sip.  Never enough to kill, but enough to take the edge off, and, in enough doses, satisfy her.

Funny little word, sometimes.