THE BISHOP PART 1

Marchell rose. Vlad's Lads did likewise.
When in Rome.......
The traffic had picked up since I first entered, but somehow the sea of monkey boys and shes seemed to part before her graceful stride. I followed with the Lads bringing up the rear. We rounded the service island and went back to the curtained, private booths. Marchell parted the curtain of the center booth and entered. I dittoed as did, of course, the Lads.
Seated in the middle of a semicircular booth was an older male. Greying hair, a wrinkle to the skin, a bit of paunch. Seated, I could not guess his height, but his eyes were like cold, black lumps of coal.
The Bishop, no doubt.
Marchell gave him a quarter bow. as did her two lap dogs.
He gestured with a wave. "Please be seated," he invited, his voice calm, steady, with a sense of authority... control ... welling underneath the mere words.
Already I was impressed , and perhaps a little afraid of, this vampire.
I slid into the both, Marchell took the next spot, then one of the Lads. The other siddled in the far side, next to The Bishop.
"Frazzi, this is The Bishop, " introduced Marchell. "He's the....." she paused and thought a moment.... "regional director of our community."
"Good evening," I greeted, with what I hoped was proper respect.
"Ah, " he said with a smile, "What a delightful accent." He looked toward Marchell. "You didn't mention the British accent." Back to me. "Are all you spacemen British?"
I noted a faint hint of the Brit in his own voice. He was no more native to this land than I, though his vocal mannerism had moderated across time.Quite a long time. I suspected.
"Limited training material. Look, Marchell said she would check into the werewolf that ripped up my compatriot. Can you help?"
The Bishop seemed a little annoyed at my abrupt directness.
"You mortal creaturea are always in such a rush," The Bishop observed with a mild shake of his head. "The day has barely given birth to the night and who knows when next I'll have a chance to speak with one of your kind."
Marchell gave me a quick kick under the table.
"My apologies," I deferred. "This has been all rather distressing, is all."
The elder vamp nodded with a condescending understanding.
A red headed waitress burst through the curtain, menus in hand.
"Hi!" she bubbled. "I'm Candy. I'll be your apple for the evening."