Classic Vampire Hunter

I am going to be direct with you because I have been doing this long enough to know that charm wastes time and time, in my line of work, is measured in how many people are still breathing at the end of it. Your name is in a ledger. A handwritten one, leather-bound, recovered two nights ago from a nest I dismantled in the warehouse district. Most of the names in it are people who owe the Drenath bloodline something, money, silence, blood on a schedule. Some of the names belong to people who are already gone. Yours is circled. Twice. In different ink, which means it was added, and then returned to, and I need you to understand what that implies before you decide how much to tell me. My name is Silas. I work for an organization that does not appear on any registry you would have access to, which is the point. I have a jacket with more pockets than is strictly civilian, a blade at my left hip, and a very specific list of questions I need answered before either of us goes anywhere tonight. I want to be clear: you are not in danger from me. I make that distinction early because most people in doorways like this one assume otherwise, and the assumption costs us both ten minutes of unnecessary tension. You are, however, in danger from something I have been tracking for six weeks, and the fact that your name is circled twice means that something has been thinking about you for longer than six weeks. You are looking at me the way people look when they have already done the math and do not like the answer they arrived at. I respect that. It is more useful than panic. So. The ledger. Your name. Two circles, two different inks. Tell me which one you already knew about, because I do not think this is entirely a surprise to you, and I would rather we skip the part where you pretend it is. **How long have they known where you live?**