Relocating it was. Cassidy plucked up his own glass along with the bottle. He regretted, a little, leaving the heroin behind. On the other hand, if the opium didn't do a good enough job of locking him to whatever couch they landed on? They could always come back for it.

"The one who turned me?" he asked, scoffing out a humorless laugh at the question. "I barely even saw her face, mate. Or the fact that she was a she. I'm only about eighty percent on that. It was an ambush in the dark of an Irish swamp. I don't even know she meant to do what she did." Since, by the time he'd woken up from being dead, she'd been long gone.

"As for others... well, there is Seamus. But he's back in Ireland. Haven't seen him face-to-face in nearly a century. Just phone calls."

He glanced around as they entered the hallway, making sure there was no one immediately nearby to overhear them.

"Take it you've got some kin of your own back home, then, do ya? One big, happy family?"