Petra heard the protesting voice of the man who sat at the front desk, he had seemed so terribly bored as if he were trying to look busier than he was. Of course, she had obliterated that as she saunters into that establishment like she very well owned the place. How those words are merely swatted aside, as the dark-haired man expressed his shock over that corpse within her very grasp, rightfully so. Of course, it hardly seems to register within the vampire herself, as though she had expected the man to simply understand. She might have felt an overwhelming surge of emotion she could hardly comprehend, but she was so painfully oblivious that this very scenario was enough to render some entirely useless. This would go so much better if he would only do as he was told, she hardly anticipated that misguided anger directed toward her that she brushes away like it was an irritating buzzing fly. Of course, in actuality the man was entirely in the right but the vampire woman was hardly aware of those, a creature whom had gotten away with everything for so painfully long. It had been a very long time since she had anyone to answer to and that very man was the very last person she wishes to explain herself to.

She hardly cares for the disgruntled artist's irritating tone and she merely goes about what she intended to do. His chair is kicked back forcefully and so very suddenly as the much larger, imposing man stands as though he is facing a threat. That agitated snarl earns him the boring look of her eerie teal eyes. Such bravado considering he faces off against a vampire, such impressive anger clamours about his form. She harder anticipated how tall her was, and yet how little it mattered in that very moment, especially against that vampiric strength and those potent powers that threaten to lash out at him. He clearly had absolutely the faintest clue of the creature that walked through those doors. How he would be an entertaining hunt, she could hardly help that musing thought which enters her mind.

That demanding question spat out at her as though he had ground to stand upon. "What do you think I am doing?" She counters, her posture was so very still then, ever so poised like she was as still as a statue. Everything about her screamed predator while she allowed her gaze to idly flick over his form. Perhaps he would have been a worthier target, if only she knew. Yet she brushes those thoughts away, no, she had already done enough damage for one night.

After that body was so haphazardly hoisted and discarded upon that receptionist desk, she could see the way he nearly gaped at it like it was going to start moving or perhaps the artist was genuinely disturbed. Perhaps he was in shock? She could smell a distinctly potent emotion upon him as it met her greedy breath, his eyes betray him even more so and how it only serves to distract her. At least until he growled at her, his irritation building and wafting from him. All that virile potency and raging emotions does wonders for that magical laced blood, how it taunts her so. She turns upon her heels, to put her focus on those authorities outside that door, a hunter wearing the guise of a police officer uniform. If she could make a distraction outside, something far worse than her little indiscretion, he would certainly move on. That voice boomed out once more and that very tone of his voice seems to strike a chord within her, that very voice sounded so similar to the man that had beat her to a breath away from death, the reason she had become the vampire she was today. A near vicious snarl rips through her then. "I plan on handling it." How much more complicated her life had become. Those newfound emotions were getting to her, conflicting her and that ruthless guilt was nothing but constricting now. She felt bad for killing that human, as unintentional as it was. The ashen haired woman was trying, perhaps desperately and she was failing even with a fistful of gold-lined good intentions.

However, that was when that disgruntled man storms behind her, his heavy footfalls betray him to her sensitive hearing. She could have heard him coming from a mile way just on his breath alone! It was when he grabs her to turn her to face him, that strong grip nothing in comparison her own strength. She could have denied him and yet a strike of something unreadable strikes her right in the chest like a dagger. Foolish man. He could have been dead for merely touching her with that bruising grip.. He should have been dead and yet she allows herself to face him, in a bid for control. It was his barked orders that struck her patience that was already wearing thin. She had to focus on what was outside, not on him, a mere distraction that wasted precious moments. "I do not take orders from you." The first twinge of anger begins to ignite within her chest, memories of a time when she was too weak to strike back hit her hard. For a moment it takes her to a time she had once taken orders, the strings of her own control was fraying as those potent emotions swirl about her like predatory sharks. If he only knew that monster she was, the wicked creature she had once been that he so threatens to rattle he would surely rethink his own error. She tips her head, his emotions were rampant, she could hear it in his heartbeat, smell it in that sweet blood that whispers to her near sweetly. Her lips peel back, those fangs exposed in a snarl. "I could rip out your heart faster than you can blink." and yet she makes no move to do so, that eerie stillness overtook her then. Careful, she needed to be so careful with this fragile resolve.

He quickly recoils as though she had struck him. Curious as to why and yet she does not go after him, although how tempting it would be. How this man wears on her feeble control. Yet, still she tries.. tries to be better. "My grievance is not with you.. But it will quickly be if you touch me like that again." She seems to be clinging on to some unseen precipice, an internal struggle nearly tears the woman apart. Two conflicting impulses ravaging through her then.

He steps back, as if beckoning her forward. Or so that predatory mind made her to believe. Vampire, he practically curses that word. A sigh escapes her then. "I prefer another calling, but for simplicities sake. Yes." That sing song voice reaches for him, careful, contrived, in control, for now.

He drops his hands to his side as though struggling with his own internal battle. His eyes drifting to the body. Ah, it was the corpse that bothered him so. She could at least see that, understands it. That very way he stared at it as if he couldn't pry his own gaze away. How it had never occurred to her before. Did his rage stem from fear?

At the very least, she could shield him from that body. With a mere sluggish flick of her hand, her power eagerly rose to conceal the body from his very eyes. Her curious teal eyes focused upon him as he seemed to struggle to process through all those very emotions, pinching the bridge of his nose. That anger did not falter him as he all but uses it to shield himself. How curious that his fear did not spill over.

"You really like that word fuck don't you?" She mused out loud. "Your store was the only one that was open." She said with a loose yet elegant shrug.

"Look, I wasn't trying to kill the man... his heart gave out when I tried to feed from him. He was in a happy place and I fear it was too much for him. I felt... bad for him, just leaving him there. " Why was she explaining herself?? Why did she care what that pretty human thing felt?

"Are you going to be a problem?" She inquires abruptly as she draws closer toward him, her movement languid and yet there was something far from human about it the way she does it. She drew in a breath, acquiring that potent scent of his. How distinct his blood smelt, how she was sure how it tasted. "Your anger makes your blood smell delicious.. Are you fae?"

petra ambrose