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Tailing someone was supposed to be an easy enough job. Especially when that someone was so easy to tail. Michael could have set someone else on it, but Cesare hadn't needed him tonight, and he always preferred doing a job himself, when he could. That way, he was certain of its outcome - or rather, if it wasn't the desired one, he only had himself to blame.
Of course, when his quarry and his friends walked into the Blood Diamond, Michael cursed inwardly. He wasn't particularly dressed for the club, but neither were they, but much more worryingly, Michael did not enjoy the idea of walking into a vampire-infested club.
And yet, he did. He could have walked away and decided to try again later, but there might be something worth noting happening in that precise club. So he checked his jacket at the cloakroom, leaving him in dark jeans and a simple grey t-shirt as he hit the main room, scanning it for the MP's son and his rowdy friends.
Kersen was here. Of course Kersen would be here, tonight of all nights. By the bar, talking to a mountain of a blond man Michael knew to be Eric Northman, from having looked into him when Kersen had first mentioned him. Michael did not like to leave things to chance.
But he looked away without showing any sign of recognition, gaze shifting just a few metres to the side to find his quarry, attempting to get a new round of drinks. Michael moved through the room, as inconspicuous as he could get, and discreetly keeping an eye on them. Usually, he would have gotten a drink to blend in even more, but not with Kersen at the bar, likely to spot him and draw attention to him.
Of course, when his quarry and his friends walked into the Blood Diamond, Michael cursed inwardly. He wasn't particularly dressed for the club, but neither were they, but much more worryingly, Michael did not enjoy the idea of walking into a vampire-infested club.
And yet, he did. He could have walked away and decided to try again later, but there might be something worth noting happening in that precise club. So he checked his jacket at the cloakroom, leaving him in dark jeans and a simple grey t-shirt as he hit the main room, scanning it for the MP's son and his rowdy friends.
Kersen was here. Of course Kersen would be here, tonight of all nights. By the bar, talking to a mountain of a blond man Michael knew to be Eric Northman, from having looked into him when Kersen had first mentioned him. Michael did not like to leave things to chance.
But he looked away without showing any sign of recognition, gaze shifting just a few metres to the side to find his quarry, attempting to get a new round of drinks. Michael moved through the room, as inconspicuous as he could get, and discreetly keeping an eye on them. Usually, he would have gotten a drink to blend in even more, but not with Kersen at the bar, likely to spot him and draw attention to him.
