Page 75 of Claim of Blood (Blood Bound #1)
“This Is Our World”: An Interview with Stefan von Rothenburg
By Eleanor Hayes, Senior National Affairs Correspondent
WASHINGTON, D.C. — As global markets adjust to the reality of vampires, witches, and shifters living among us, the political divide surrounding the “supernatural issue” is rapidly widening.
In certain circles, one name keeps surfacing—an old name, often whispered, now spoken aloud on the floor of Congress: the Rothenburgs.
The centuries-old family of supernatural hunters—long believed to be nothing more than folklore—has reemerged with a message. And Stefan von Rothenburg, current field commander of the North American branch, has stepped forward to deliver it.
We met at a secure facility outside Boston, where I was searched three times and made to sign an NDA I am told is now void. Von Rothenburg, a tall man with frost-gray hair and an athlete’s build, did not rise when I entered. He simply nodded.
“Welcome to the part of the world no one wanted to believe existed,” he said.
The rest of our conversation unfolded much like that first sentence: measured, direct, and deeply unsettling.
Eleanor Hayes: What would you say to Americans who’ve woken up over the six weeks and realized they’ve been sharing their neighborhoods, their schools, their governments with supernatural entities?
Stefan von Rothenburg: I’d say you haven’t been “sharing” anything. You’ve been fed on. Manipulated. Studied. You just didn’t know it yet.
Hayes: That’s a bold claim.
Von Rothenburg: Is it? Vampires don’t just feed. They lure. They draw you in. They look like us, talk like us, love like us—until they don’t. Until you’re beneath them and you realize you never had a choice.
He folds his hands on the table, his eyes sharp.
Von Rothenburg: These aren’t neighbors. These aren’t colleagues. These are predators. And the world is their feeding ground.
Hayes: Can you provide examples of this alleged manipulation?
Von Rothenburg: Look at your own government. Senator Vance has been voting on defense appropriations for six years. How many of those votes benefited vampire interests? How many contracts went to companies with supernatural ties? We’re conducting a full audit now.
[His voice grows heated] Nocturne Intelligence has access to centuries of insider information. Trade secrets. Government communications. They’ve been positioned to manipulate markets before your great-grandparents were born. How do you compete with that kind of advantage?
Throughout the interview, von Rothenburg repeatedly referred to the supernatural as “infiltrators,” “instinct-driven,” and “subversive.” When asked about the possibility of peaceful coexistence, his tone turned paternal.
“You can put a leash on a wolf,” he said. “But you can’t ask it not to be hungry.”
Hayes: Your family has operated for centuries outside any legal framework. How do we know hunter activities haven’t violated human rights?
Von Rothenburg: [His composure cracks, voice rising with righteous indignation] We protect human rights!
Everything we do serves that singular purpose.
For eight hundred years, my family has stood between humanity and creatures that view you as livestock.
We’ve died for this cause. We’ve sacrificed everything—our safety, our anonymity, our children’s innocence—to preserve human freedom.
[Leaning forward intensely] When a vampire “claims” someone, that person loses their free will.
They become a puppet. A pet. We restore their humanity.
We give them back their choice. Don’t you dare question our commitment to human rights when we’re the only thing that’s kept humanity from being farmed like cattle.
When I asked him about his nephew, Leo von Rothenburg, Stefan hesitated. For a moment, the dogma cracked.
“We miss him,” he admitted. “He was born into legacy and responsibility. He was bright.” Then he shifted. “But even the strongest minds can be compromised under the right circumstances. That is why they target people like Leo.”
“He’s not a prisoner,” I pressed.
“No,” Stefan said. “Not legally. But vampires don’t need cages. They use compulsion. That’s the real prison.”
The conversation turned darker as von Rothenburg began to reference cases, both historical and recent, where humans were allegedly “kept” by vampires, some as partners, others as “pets.”
“This is what they do,” he said. “They seduce. They feed. They keep.”
When I asked how hunters identify supernatural entities, von Rothenburg produced a small silver device from his jacket.
“Blessed silver, consecrated by Vatican specialists,” he said, activating what looked like a modified metal detector. “It reacts to supernatural presence within a fifty-foot radius. We’ve been field-testing them in major cities for the past month.”
When pressed for verification of the device’s effectiveness, von Rothenburg declined to provide technical specifications or independent testing results. No scientific studies have confirmed the functionality of such supernatural detection methods.
Hayes: The Night Court claims they want peaceful coexistence.
Von Rothenburg: [laughs grimly] Of course they do. They’ve been coexisting with us as prey for millennia. Now they want to formalize the arrangement.
“And what do you propose we do now?” I asked.
“Reclaim the sane world,” he said. “We’ve lived in balance for millennia because they stayed hidden. Now they’re walking into the light, and we’re expected to smile? To integrate? No. We need containment. Oversight. Boundaries.”
When I pointed out that the supernatural revelation in Detroit appeared to be the result of hunter actions, not a voluntary disclosure by the supernatural community, von Rothenburg’s expression hardened.
“Sometimes you have to force the truth into the open,” he said. “They would have stayed hidden forever, growing stronger, positioning themselves. We simply accelerated the inevitable.”
At no point did von Rothenburg advocate for violence. But his words carried the weight of doctrine, and his closing line was as much a warning as a promise.
As our interview concluded, von Rothenburg mentioned that hunter families across North America and Europe have been “activated” since the Detroit revelation.
“This isn’t just us,” he said, standing to leave. “This is a movement. And it’s been waiting centuries for this moment.”
When I asked how many hunters are currently active, he smiled for the first time.
“Enough,” he added as he reached the door. “More than enough.”