Yes

"Yeah, I guess I could use the help," you say.

"Well OK then. There are three rules, or Traditions, you gotta know about and follow. First off, you gotta understand that our society is secret. Mortals can't know of our existence, or we'd be in for all kinds a hell. Mortals are all scared, y'see. They like to be top of the food chain because it makes 'em feel safe. Imagine if they found out that they were little more'n cattle to our kind. Despite our powers, with nukes, napalm and seven billion potential troops, we'd be finished quicker'n you can say 'Aww shit'. That's why we got the Masquerade. We don't reveal ourselves to any humans. That means we gotta stick to their laws and we can never do any fancy shit in front of them. Kinda looks odd when yer start jugglin' cars. Now, I guess you ain't bin stoopid, or we'd all a heard about it 'fore yer got here. Just be careful or you'll end up with the Prince on your case."

"Prince?"

"Yeah. Y'see, every city has a Prince. They ensure we all get along, don't break the Masquerade, and work on the cover-ups and punishments if we do. Some of our kind don't like the Prince or his rules, say we should be more like the free-livin' dead and take care of ourselves, but I reckon you gotta have some sort of order."

"Who's the Prince of London?"

"Guy called Wallace. Charles Wallace. He was an Earl in his life, now a Prince in his afterlife." L.J. snorts at his own joke. "Anyways, you prob'ly won't meet him. He ain't got time for fledglings. No offence.

"Second Tradition may apply to you. You can't go round making other Kindred without permission of the Prince. We'd be overrun by Kindred if that happened. Now, I ain't sayin' you were sired witout permission, Tereza probably did have permission or you'd've met your final **** by now, but when your sire runs away it ain't a good sign. 'Sides, Tereza is bound by our law to teach you our ways, which she ain't done. Like I said, you might wanna keep it quiet that you can't find her.

"Final Tradition: you can't drink the blood of our kind until they reach Final ****. Drinking other Kindred's blood is frowned on, but accepted in some circles. Draining a Kindred until their Final **** can mean you'll inherit some fotheir powers, but it's dangerous. You get addicted to it, and it eats you up inside. It can fuck you up in the head, and you wind up empty; a lost soul on the hunt for vitae...Kindred blood...until someone sends you to your Final ****. Man, just steer clear of it."

"If it's so dangerous, why is drinking a Kindred's bl- vitae accepted in some circles?" you ask.

L.J. laughs. "Coz some Kindred ain't the decent folk we are! Look, it ain't fer me, but sharing vitae creates a bond stronger than anything in the mortal world, called the Vinculum. Anyone who drinks a Kindred's blood three times is caught in the thrall of their master, and will do their bidding. Some of our kind share each others' blood to be bound to each other. It's about as close to love as our cold hearts can manage. It also works out quite handy when you want a few slaves!

"So that's 'bout it. Reckon I've given you enough to chew on fer now, but if you wanna know anything else I'll gladly help out. Want another drink?"