Night Island was many things. It was open all day and all night as a place in which mortals could shop or find entertainment or gamble. It was a hotel. It was a center of business. But tucked away and above all this was a second world, a vampire world.
It was intended to be an immortal haven. A place where vampires could stay in perfect safety from both the mortal world and from each other. I'm not sure when Armand abandoned it exactly, I heard that from Raglan James and he was never wholly truthful, but it's been a decade or two.
This mansion perched high over the sea is Night Island revisited. There are no mortals this time, it's a steamlined operation, but any immortal can request to be a guest here. Just like before, it's open to all no matter how young or how ancient, no matter who else might be in residence here or what their history might be.
This is what Armand has been building.
And here we are, all of us; Louis, Nicki and his fiddle, Armand and his watchful eyes and myself. And then there's Vincent.
Interesting fellow, Vincent. I wonder if I might persuade him to tarry a while. I'll say no more about him for now.