Page 161 of Claim of Blood
Article #2
Behind the Black Glass: The Night Court Refuses to Blink
By Rae Linhart, Senior Investigative Reporter
PorteduCœurPostDispatch
July 28 – Front Page | Politics | Supernatural Affairs
PORTE DU CŒUR, MO— If you try to schedule an interview with Ilona Erdei, emissary of the PDC Night Court, you should be prepared to wait. And then, once you finally get in, you should be prepared for her to tell you nothing.
I waited three weeks.
What I got was twenty-six minutes in a soundproof conference room inside a Nocturne-owned building downtown. She didn’t shake my hand. She didn’t offer coffee. She did not, at any point, smile.
“I’m not here for PR,” she said, before I’d even asked a question. “I’m here to keep the peace.”
It’s been over a month since the supernatural world was thrust into the public eye, and Missouri’s own quiet metropolis of shadows—Porte du Cœur—has become ground zero for vampirediplomacy. At the center of it is Nocturne Intelligence Services, a centuries-old private company now under federal scrutiny, and the Night Court: the ruling vampire authority operating behind layers of enchanted doors and silence.
At the center of that, is Adam Matthews. Otherwise known as the Second Vampire Ever Created. Ever.
“So, it’s true?” I asked.
Ilona blinked, slowly. “What is?”
“That Adam Matthews is... the second vampire in history.”
“No comment.”
I tried another route: “Are there concerns about Nocturne’s role now that it’s public knowledge the company has operated across national borders, in intelligence and cybersecurity, for centuries—without oversight?”
Ilona leaned back in her chair. “Nocturne is a privately held company. Our customers trust us. We have no board. No shareholders. We answer only to our founder.”
She paused. “It turns out,” she added, with a tone so dry it could’ve powdered silver, “that people trust an intelligence agency more once they learn we’ve been keeping secrets for centuries. Consistency builds confidence.”
Since the revelation, Nocturne has reportedly increased its workforce by 23%, with new hires ranging from cybersecurity specialists to what company insiders describe as "diplomatic liaisons." The company's stock price—privately held but tracked by financial analysts—has surged 200%.
Federal agents have been spotted at Nocturne's downtown offices three times this week, though company representatives describe the visits as "routine compliance meetings." The Department of Homeland Security's hastily formed Office of Supernatural Affairs, scrambling to develop protocols for entities that predate the Constitution, has yet to comment on any ongoing investigations.
Asked about Adam’s sudden visibility in international affairs, Ilona declined to elaborate. “Mr. Matthews has no comment at this time.”
When I pressed about internal vampire politics—claims of supernatural hierarchies, bloodline control, and magic-linked obedience—Ilona cut me off.
“That’s not your concern,” she said flatly. “It hasn’t been for millennia.”
Then came the question I expected to end the interview: Leo von Rothenburg.
The name drew the only flicker of visible emotion I saw in twenty-six minutes.
“Leo von Rothenburg,” Ilona said evenly, “is within the Night Court by choice. He is healthy. He is safe. And contrary to what his family has been telling every network willing to air their vitriol, he is not being held.”
The von Rothenburg family, prominent in what sources describe as “supernatural hunting circles,” has appeared on three major networks this week. They claim Leo was “seduced and mentally compromised” by vampire influence. When asked for evidence, family spokesperson Stefan von Rothenburg cited “classified hunter protocols” and declined to elaborate.
“Then why can’t we interview him?” I asked.
Ilona’s smile was faint and cold. “Because Leo doesn’t like vultures.”
The comment did not go over well with several press outlets, and by midweek, “#FreeLeo” was trending on multiple platforms, despite zero evidence he’s being detained.
