It only further angered the warlock at her simple answers to his snarling questions, Brenden's eyes blazing with liquid ice. It radiated from him in every pore, every line on his body, how the whole room wasn't covered in ice that threatened to coat the inside of his body, was beyond him. It was an entirely new feeling, his rage always having felt more cold, frozen rather than the fiery temper he had seen from so many others, but this was... something different. Something prowled beneath his skin, wanting a release, it was there for only a moment before it vanished. Brenden crowding her space, a hand slamming against the wall as his dark eyes glare at her in the frozen rage. His other hand grips the amulet so tightly, he swears it was going to leave an imprint in his hand, though he hardly had another outlet to direct this rage, this hate he felt so strongly for the vampire against the wall.

Her teasing words merely make his mouth snap shut, his jaw clenched so hard he can almost feel his teeth grinding into dust. Fuck. He wanted to hurt her. His hatred for vampires he understood, but this roiling hatred that only this creature could pull out of him, this was new. The desire to hurt someone was not new but the desire to hurt this woman, to shred her apart, to break her, to do things that he had never truly wanted to do to someone, it was all consuming. He needed to leave, he needed to put space between them, to find someone within the club and work out this anger, this frustration, this very disgust that was coursing through him. Whether it was directed at himself or the woman caged in front of him, he couldn't decide. Perhaps it was both. Though her question only further eggs him on, her teasing remark of putting her fangs in his neck. He has to bite back the cruel bark of laughter and instead tell her that he had, in fact, not gotten what he wanted.

Brenden leans forward, his hot breath tickling her ear, the spark of curiosity in the vampire's eyes entirely lost on him. He admits he does want his hands on her and before he can finish, she quips and his body stills, his nostrils flaring in... well, he wasn't entirely sure. Disgust. Desire. Temptation. What the fuck was wrong with him? That very image of him wrapping his hands around her throat, it stroked the inner workings of his mind, teased him to do just that, to watch her suffer, to beg. It tantalized him in a way that nothing had before and yet, he pushes it away, snarling into her ear in response, "If I could fucking kill you that way, I would," he murmurs so softly in her ear, a half truth he supposed, she didn't need to know that he would enjoy every god damn second of it. He continues on, admitting he wanted to see her cry, Brenden pulling back slightly, watching as her lips pull back, revealing those razor sharp canines. The very sight of those fangs makes him curl his own lip in disgust, her words snapping out of her like a whip.

He didn't know if he should laugh at her or take her up on her offer of wrapping a hand around her neck, see if he could break her. He does neither of those, "You have no idea the darkness I'm capable of," he says simply, "As for your fangs in my neck, that will never happen. I'd rather stab myself in the heart before I let one of you suck my blood," his words are filled with such frozen hatred that he hardly notices the subtle movement beneath him, that she had leaned forward so very slightly that her fangs were almost touching him, they were touching him. So lightly, his body froze, knowing full well a sudden movement would cause the predator in her to pounce. A thought that sickened him to no end. The power struggle between the two was disgusting, in no possible scenario could he physically fight her off. His telekinesis only providing so much defense and little to no offensive powers.

Brenden is... saved from her fangs tearing into his neck, some small part of him understanding that she would have broken another rule just to feed on him, just to show him that he could do nothing to stop her, not truly. Voices behind him further stiffen his spine, the man unwilling to move and yet, he does so, putting a few feet between him and the vampire leaning against the wall, dark eyes turning on the security guard as he gives a nod of approval to be scanned. The control he portrayed on his face was a mere facade, it did nothing to quiet the roiling icy waves raging through his body. His limbs restless, his fingers itching to do something, to inflict pain perhaps. The security guards finally turn away from Brenden, understanding that he wasn't the one they needed to go after, that it was the vampire and it's as if she realizes it in the same moment. Her warning words going up between them as she all but admits that she had used magic, even before the wand is waved over her and that red light flares. She steps forward, Brenden noting that movement, his body stiffening, this was going to be a problem, one he did not want to be in the middle of and yet, he already was.

He watches the scene unfold between the woman and the security guards, hands grabbing her from behind as she bares her fangs in such a predatory way it sent a thrill through him. She shoves one off, demanding she not be touched before she's subdued again by a fellow vampire it seemed, strong hands holding her in place before he watches a needle slide into her back and press the clear liquid into her. That very motion catches his eyes, curiosity piquing his interest as he notes the bag of... sedatives on the ground. So that's how they dealt with supernaturals that refused to play by the rules. Interesting. He's ready to turn, to leave, let them kick her out on her ass, he would surely never see her again and if he did, well, he was certain it would go about as well as tonight did. Her vow is so sudden, so full of violence and death that it draws his attention, right as the tables around him begin to shudder and suddenly the face of nightmares came to life around them.

Brenden took a step back, screaming people around them barely registered in his ears as he studied the creatures... the illusions. And they were illusions, he could see them but he could also see through them. Just to test the theory, he removes his hand from the artifact in his pocket and those illusions became so real, he would not have believed they were fake if he hadn't just seen through them moments before. Again, he clasps his skin to the amulet again, watching as the realness faded once more. To say he wasn't delighted by the discovery would be an understatement. He had realized what the amulet did but this was better than he could imagine, no more would he have to suffer at the hands of illusionists again. His realization is short lived before strong, cold hands find his shoulders, wrenching him back to be flush against her chest. He startles for the briefest of a moment before stiffening. She. Was. Touching. Him. Jaw clenched, he manages to keep control of his features though, the mere stiffening of his mouth the only telltale sign that he wasn't pleased by the outcome.

He couldn't decide if her hands on him or his name on her lips was worst. Either way, his gaze merely drops to the medical bag, those powers calling on him so quietly, he so subtly manages to pull a few vials from that bag, floating them to him slowly. So fucking slowly, as a half smile forms on his lips as he looks at the startled security in front of them. "She didn't get to eat today," he explains, his voice almost... soothing, "Our role-play went a little too far, we probably should have stayed at home," he says again, so very carefully reaching up a hand, gently patting her iron grip on his shoulder. Still, those vials are floating at foot level, floating their way towards him as he gives another half smile to the guards, "We are just leaving," he explains again and he can see the utter confusion, the wariness coursing through the guards' faces but they seem to accept it after a long moment. Brenden making his movements so calm, so slow, he turns, dark gaze meeting her's, his hand again coming up to touch her's, grasping it. Like he was some sort of gentleman, he gently pulls it from his shoulder, angling his arm towards her and sliding her hand into his arm.

And as he turns, those vials finally make their way to him, crawling up his leg, a hand casually moving backwards to grasp them, unnoticed, and slide them into his back pocket. He didn't have a plan but having the sedatives were better than not having any sort of defense after all. He glances over his shoulder once more, the security watching them though they don't make an effort to escort them out. Fuck. He knew there was no way in hell they were letting him in here again, a thought that instantly vanishes as he remembers the weight of a hand on his arm. Dark gaze looks down, though a faint smile still lingers on his lips, allowing the patrons of the club to see what they wished to see, a couple who's roleplaying had been taken too far. Yet, his gaze is wholly black as he stares at the vampire, a promise of violence and pain and even death lurking behind those eyes but it vanishes as a sudden realization sets in that he was the fucking prey. "Let's go... pet," he snarls under his breath, one last jab at her. He couldn't keep his god damn mouth shut, could he?