[chanting]

-Macul galom.

Elia don tilak.

[chanting]

-What are they doing?

It's a mourning ceremony.

[chanting]

-Elia don tilak!

-Thank you.

Means a lot that you're remembering Ryan.

-Who?

Ryan?

Oh.

Oh!

Him.

This wasn't for your inconsequential brother.

Move.

Thomas Owen, elder of the vampire High Council,

has passed.

-2,000 years old, and blind as a bat.

Senile old fool woke up in the middle of the day,

and opened the curtains.

-Still a bit upset, is she?

-We need to find out who killed Ryan.

-Haven't you got enough on your plate?

-That's why I'm putting you in charge of the investigation.

INGRID: I take it you'll be putting me forth in Thomas

Owen's place on the High Council?

-It was agreed that you would first

prove yourself by carrying out three tasks.

Us

-And I passed the first.

I foiled Vlad's plan to kidnap Adze.

-As long as Erin is around, there will still be plotting.

Your second task is to get her out of the way,

by any means necessary.

-You actually want me to organize your sand weekend?

-We have to keep up the pretense until I can find

a way out of this blood binding.

-You can put me down.

-It's a stag weekend.

No girls.

-I'm not staying here on my own.

Ryan's killer is still on the loose.

INGRID: You won't be on your own.

I'll look after you.

I feel terrible about Ryan.

I made him.

Looking after his little sister is the least I can do.

-Thanks, but I'll be fine.

-You'll be safe with me.

Let's do lunch.

My treat.

-Murder requires both motive and opportunity.

You had the motive.

-Did I?

-He ridiculed you.

-Everybody ridicules me.

-well, you also had the opportunity,

being in possession of the murder weapon.

-Oh.

This is Professor Renfield, at your service.

-I-- I wouldn't hurt a fly.

-Oh.

Is that right?

[fly buzzing]

-Ah ha!

-I know my rights.

I demand a lawyer.

-[whispering]

-My, uh, lawyer has advised me to plead

guilty with mitigation.

-Oh.

So you're admitting you killed Ryan?

-Never liked him.

And, as you said, I had both motive and opportunity.

-Right.

Now that's settled, can we go?

-Vlad ordered me to bring the murderer to justice.

-This murder was a classic.

It would have needed a brilliant mind and a dark soul.

It was a work of art.

Meticulously planned.

Ambitious, imaginative.

-Way beyond the limited capabilities of Renfield.

-My point pre-- cisely.

-Having one of the scrap kids on the school

Senate was your idea, wasn't it?

-What are you insinuating?

-You don't share Vlad's vision of coexistence.

What better way to derail the peace process,

then bump off one of the scrappers

and put the bat among the pigeons?

-I'd advise you, to plead the fifth.

-All right, all right!

The Senate idea wasn't mine.

It was Miss McCauley's.

-Oh, so you had an accomplice?

-No.

[bell ringing]

-I've got a confession to make.

I missed the Senate quiz because I fell asleep.

-Well, you've been working hard.

-I'll make amends by writing up for the school newsletter.

Starting with, who won?

-Um, Malik.

On a technicality.

-Perhaps I could interview both the candidates?

-Well, I'm not too sure Ryan's up to it.

-Oh, was he very disappointed?

-Ryan didn't take it too well.

But donating a mortarboard was an inspired idea.

-Mortarboard?

-This is for the winner of the Senate quiz.

It will need a cleaning before we present it.

-Ah.

Straightaway.

-I didn't donate a mortarboard.

-Oh.

Well, Renfield was under the impression you did.

-He must have got confused.

It wasn't me.

I don't believe in such archaic symbols or authority.

-The tickets!

They've arrived.

Is there one in there for me?

-Not another skull club reunion.

-Oh, contraire.

A stag weekend in Reger and a final chance

to let your fangs down before tying

the eternal marital knot to Adze.

-Jonno will be my best man.

We're not going to Reger.

Besides, you are way too old for club 18 to 320.

-Don't listen to him.

You don't look a day over 300.

-Vlad!

Your dad's giving me all these demands for the stag weekend.

I've already made legal plans.

-Well, stick to them.

It's my stag, not his.

It's going to be your wedding in less than a week.

If we're going to stop it, we need to act soon.

-Don't you think I know that?

-You're doing good.

Just play along with the stag thing.

Don't arouse suspicions.

-Why would I want to kill Ryan?

He was nothing to me.

An underling.

Irrelevant.

-On the contrary.

The fact he was Erin's brother is very relevant.

-Ah, how did you work that out?

-Erin's your rival in love.

You were warning her off.

-I'm a straight for the jugular kind of girl.

If I wanted Erin out of the way, I'd have done it myself.

You're pretty rubbish at this.

-Don't underestimate me.

-You haven't even asked yourself the most obvious question.

-Which is?

-Ryan was hardly the sharpest fang in the cave,

and he'd been a biter for what?

A few months?

-So?

-So, how does someone like that suddenly

have like 2,000 years of knowledge.

-What are you getting at?

-If Ryan hadn't have known all the answers to the Senate quiz,

he wouldn't have died.

-Nobody saw the Senate quiz questions except me.

I had them under lock and key.

-But you could have given him the answers.

-To what end?

-You tell me.

You tried to frame him before.

-If you've something to say, say it.

If not, I suggest you look for a suspect

amongst our real enemies.

Slayers and breathers.

-I'm thinking, a dark weave Oltenian lambswool.

I know a shepherd who grazes a pedigree flock

on the foothills of the Carpathian mountains.

-Does it matter?

THE COUNT: The blood binding of the Chosen One?

Of course, it matters.

Oh!

And button-hooves.

Biggie Nightshade is so last millennium.

Perhaps Monks-hood.

Just as toxic.

-Fine choice.

The blue will set your eyes off a treat.

All done.

-Right.

Now, for the tasting menu.

-Suit measured.

Date set.

Flowers chosen.

-I won't let this happen.

If it comes to it, we'll just have to leave here.

-Are you serious?

The Scrap is working.

Look at what you've achieved with the Ferals.

You'd give that all up for me?

-If that's what it takes.

[whistling]

-Erin said I could borrow her nail varnish.

-Hm.

Where's your [inaudible]?

Bertrand's looking for you.

-Then he'll have to wait.

-What's that?

-Stasis spray.

It's what Erin uses to disguise what she really is.

A breather.

I'm going to replace it with water, and then--

-The Chosen One, and a breather?

Is this some sort of sick joke?

-If you'd let me finish--

-It's her that needs to be finished.

How long have you known about this?

Who else is privy to this information?

-Well, Vlad, obviously.

Bertrand, Jonno, Renfield, Dad-- Mina knows, I think.

Um.

-Count Dracula is harboring a breather?

-Well, to be fair, he has tried to kill her in the past.

-And failed.

Don't make the same mistake.

-Hey, wait up.

Heard you were having a bit of a stag do.

-And I guess you want an invite?

-Well, if that's alright with you.

We'll have a party, me.

-OK, I don't see why not.

-Because then you'd have to invite all the other Scrappers.

-It's all right.

I won't tell anyone.

It'll be our secret.

What happens on the stags, stays on the stag, hm?

-They're bound to find out.

You'd have a mutiny on your hands.

-She's right.

I can't be seen to give preferential treatments.

Sorry.

-Do you see that?

I keep trying to get close to him.

Erin keeps getting in the way.

Dusty lines made things worse.

VOICE: Then we'll take her out of the equation.

-How?

VOICE: By sending her into a battle she will never win.

-Battle with who?

-Who are you talking to?

-I was conjugating Transylvanian verbs.

Someone looks pleased with themselves.

-Well, between you and me, you may