"Does anybody feel like explaining to me how we lost an entire cell? No?" a voice drawls. Soft, feminine, with a hard edge. You could mistake her tone for amused, if you hadn't seen the danger in her expression.

"My lady - " one of her surviving lieutenants starts. He's one of the more vain vampires, hair carefully groomed, blood blotted off his lips if any drops happen to spill. He would sooner burn a vest than wear it stained. She can appreciate manners like that. "Vanessa... Appears to have made some enemies. We didn't get any communication before she went dark, but there's whispers coming out of Sunnydale - a few vampires fled the area, before. They mostly vanished, but... We captured one of the deserters."

Lianne taps a finger against the arm of her throne. It's not as ostentatious as some prefer; she's a modern girl, after all, and modern manners call for more subtlety than that. Still, it's the largest in the room, a rich golden wood. "Any details?"

"There seems to be someone capable of taking on vampires alone - and winning. A teenaged girl, blonde - and idealistic. She left our... Informant... Alive," he says, tilting his head.

"- A Slayer? Who leaves vampires alive." Lianne starts to smile. "My, whatever is the world coming to. I suppose the Watchers haven't found her yet, if she's still so soft?"

He shrugs, somewhat exaggerating the movement. "Our informant didn't know." And then a nod towards her. "With your permission, my lady, I will begin investigations. My network could use the chance to stretch themselves; our usual veins run a bit stale after a time."

She waves a hand. "Of course. The Hellmouth is important, after all. Find what you may about this Slayer, and any allies she may have."

"But - " and Lianne leans forward, still smiling, "Her blood is mine."