Sallie Clair was awake before dawn as usual getting the table ready for breakfast. Many boarding houses offered a morning meal to its guests as part of general hospitality, but some, such as her's, offered more high end fare than the average poached egg or toast. Coffee was ready and waiting and all she had to do before getting the stove going was to look into the matter of Mr. Wilde's room. The thought of the previous night's encounter worried her and she readies a myriad of cleaning supplies and carried them up the stairs along with a bucket. She would have knocked on the door, but as the proprietor of the house, she had keys to every room and decided that instead of waking an injured person so early, she'd just peak in before rousing him.<br/><br/>The door open quietly after a turn of the tumblers as she poked her head in for a glance. The first thing she noticed was the broken window and the curtain billowing in the breeze and that was not odd, but the strong scent of flowers was. Sallie was a sharp girl, a quality she kept hidden to strangers and a quick glance around the room brought her to a conclusion that would have been considered insanity to most. A spirit was in the room; it had likely entered through the broken window. What was Mr. Wilde and his guest doing up in the room? She looked around again for any signs of rituals or seances and saw nothing....accept blood. Over by the window and trailing back to the bed chamber there was a dark puddle stain and trail.<br/><br/>She looked to the bed chamber door; it was cracked open just a tad and she could hear snoring coming from the room. "Mr. Wilde." She whispered in the direction. "Mr. Wilde, are you alright? I just need to...clean up." Her eyes went back to the stain. She was relieved to hear sounds of sleeping, but she wouldn't be settled until she saw it was her guest. She crept slowly into the main room across to the cracked open door and pushed it open just a bit more until she could see inside. She saw a slumbering mound in the bed and clothes tossed aside on the floor. They appeared to be stained too and there was the worst combination of smells in the room; all familiar and concerning to her. The flowers were nearly overwhelming and the temperature in the room was noticeably cooler. The spirit was most certainly in this room but as she strained her eyes to look around the dark room she could see nothing. Hayes Addison sat up against the headboard of the bed with a shitty grin on his face waving at the woman. Despite the fact that she could sense his presence, he was utterly invisible to the woman no matter how dark or light it was in the room. It was one of the things about being an apparition that greatly amused the sardonic Confederate veteran.<br/><br/>The spirit was troubling enough, though spirits were not necessarily incredibly rare, especially in an urban cesspool like Chicago where people died everyday in all manner of horrible ways that left loose ends for the recently deceased. No, the spirit thus far was just odd, the smell of the vitae was what concerned her most. She knew the scent well and it both repelled and excited her. She bit her bottom lip as a pang of hunger filled her; she'd need to forget that as she had no likelihood of having it sated anytime soon. The late night happening of the previous night began to make sense, especially the ginger gentleman who'd left on a rather commanding note. She'd had no choice but to do as he had said, but she had recognized it for what it was.<br/><br/>Sallie quickly moved to grab up the soiled clothes and closed the bedchamber door. She then moved to quickly and quietly clean up the spots on the floor. Whatever Mr. Wilde would know or remember when he woke was highly questionable, but at the very least she felt it best if he didn't wake up to what looked like a slaughterhouse scene. Once done she stopped momentarily to listen again. The sounds of Mr. Wilde's deep sleep breathing continued on uninterrupted and she hurried out. When she got back downstairs to the kitchen she put away the cleaning supplies and bagged up the bloody clothes for disposal later. She quickly tidied herself as well and went to the breakfast room.<br/><br/>"Ah, good morning, Sabek. I'm glad you're already awake." She said to the Egyptian man who sat at the table with a porcelain cup of coffee. She sat across from him and poured herself a cup likewise. She wore her concern calmly on her face as she regarded the other and as he nodded a greeting to her, his brow furrowed in question. "We have trouble, Sabek. We've had kindred here other than our own last night. Mr. Wilde, the man across from you has been fed, or, judging from the stench of kindred blood everywhere, he may have even been fully taken."<br/><br/>Sabek subconsciously worked at the sleeves of his crisp white shirt where starched cuffs hid elegant ankh tattoos. "Sabbat?"<br/><br/>"No, I don't think so. He commanded me briefly when I went up there to investigate some breaking glass noise and I had no choice but to leave them be. He seemed somewhat plain, unassuming even...I wouldn't think Sabbat at all, but he wasn't one of us either. Not that I could tell." She stood up as though remembering something. "I may have his address though...Mr. Wilde had me send a few messages out yesterday..."<br/><br/>She paused and then added almost casually. "Oh, and there's a spirit up there.<br/><br/>The tidy and well kempt man shook his head softly. "You and your spirits. Sallie, you must bear the fantasies to rest if you ever want the Magus to recognize your talent otherwise he will never teach you."<br/><br/>"Sabek, It feels like Wisconsin November and smells like South Carolina July in there. You tell me that's not a spirit. Go see for yourself." She replied in defense her assertions.