you could rattle the stars.
you could do anything,
if only you dared

There is nothing else for the woman to feel except for horror and that fear that so wafts off her as Lazarus enters through that door. Eyes are wide, her icy blues lacking the usual humor and wicked delight she always so adorned. The woman who could take down men like it was nothing, work a job of a hitman, good train with a man twice her size and still put him on his ass; that truly was fear dancing across her features and how Ivan relished in it. The Russian vampire knew the moment Lazarus walked through that door that Vhalla knew him, knew him well enough to cause such a reaction in her. She doesn't speak, as her pleading eyes for him to turn around and leave, as she can practically see Laz putting that puzzle together; what is unexpected is the anger that so rockets across his features.

Vhalla winces as Ivan's hand tightens slightly, pulling her back to him a touch more. It was a possessive movement; the vampire knew exactly what he was doing. Such a deathly pale smile dances upon his lips as he regards Lazarus with nothing more than a look of disdain and profound amusement. The vampire looked like he had won the jackpot the moment that anger sweeps across Lazarus's face. Ah, so the man cared for her in a way. How intriguing. As the Dark Hunter responds to Ivan, the vampire merely raises his brows in amusement, rather enjoying how angry this boy had become in a matter of moments since walking through that door. "Tut, tut. Careful boy, I have ways to pry information out of people," he says blandly, though that smile remains as his other pale hand reaches up to intertwine Vhalla's braid around his wrist, as if he were merely playing with her white locks.

"I don't particularly care to have my belongings tampered with, especially when I don't know the tamper's name," Ivan responds slyly, adjusting his grip on the hair as he nuzzles his nose into Vhalla's neck. It would have been a sweet gesture if it wasn't Ivan and if he weren't holding her against her will. Ivan's eyes lock with Lazarus, not allowing to break contact as he slides the tip of his nose across her neck, Vhalla trying to lean as far away from him given her current position. "Oh please, pet. People have seen you in far more scandalous positions," he scolds, yanking her back as she flinches at the iron grip around her upper arm. "However, I do suppose this is the first time someone you know has seen you like this," he muses thoughtfully, not taking his eyes from the Dark Hunter. "Hunter, I am not used to be denied and I can assure you that I always get what I want," Ivan declares, adjust his grip once more on her hair, his colorless eyes traveling to the woman in his lap.

"Vhalla, what is his name?" he purrs in her ear as the woman bites the inside of her cheek fierce enough to draw blood. "I don't know, I've never seen him before," she says deathly quiet, that fire nowhere to be seen now. Ivan laughs in her ear, almost a lover's laugh before those eyes turn back to Lazarus and he simply shrugs, "Don't you remember what happened last time you lied to me?" Ivan grumbles darkly in her ear before he yanks her head back by her hair, a whimper so escaping the assassin and yet she still does not tell him, even when his fangs elongate and they descend on her throat, he pauses when the man spits out his name roughly. Amusement dances in those colorless eyes as he releases Vhalla's hair, though his hand remains on her arm. Glancing up at the man, Ivan merely leans back, away from her neck, though a hunger now rumbled deep inside him.

"Good boy," he says in response to the hunter, "Let me fill you in on a little secret, Lazarus. No one demands something from me without giving me something in return. This is how the world works. So, if you want something from me, like releasing my pretty little pet here, you have to give me something," Ivan drawls lazily, his now free hand tracing patterns along Vhalla's other arm. All the while, the assassin glances up at Lazarus, noting the way his hands have balled into fist. She had seen this anger before, once, when they were training. It had snapped a leash in him before and she hoped to god he wasn't about to lose control, it wouldn't end well for either of them. Vhalla shakes her head subtly at Lazarus, hoping he understood her meaning, but their silent communication is interrupted again by Ivan. "Here are your choices, boy. You can either pay for my dear Vhalla and her services and I will leave or," he pauses, brows drawing down into a menacing glare, "Or you can get the fuck out so that I might enjoy my pet for the night. Your choice"

Vhalla Solarn

To the stars who listen- and the dreams that are answered