Cats were ever the cryptic creatures, without question the most. They too were fickle as the woman that could control them. Risque would truly be apt to agree, the vampiric woman without a doubt shared such attributes of the creatures she so controlled. Even now as she plays her vampire lover like a fiddle, toying with his desires simply because she could. What if she made fall to his knees to see how long it would take to notice the pair had not come to dinner. How little she cared of the gossip that would spread like wildfire in the vampire community. For some reason, people had seemed so fixated on spreading rumours like a bunch of moronic teens, most of them false.. perhaps she should give them something to truly talk about. Those kisses he so easily placed upon her neck almost had her uttering those words, the press of his firm body against her own was enough to cause her own body to press into his own. Or perhaps she wished to send him all the more on edge, to keep him wound up tight, full of testosterone energy... her weapon, her loaded gun, her lover and mate. The latter a strange new concept that seemed strange to acknowledge, even if those changes had surely slowly transpired between them. While the she-devil hardly seemed to know fully what that entailed, she had accepted it. She had no intention to allow him go outside of her grasp, somehow drawing him closer, entwining him to her in a way she hardly seemed privy of. For a hint of the moment it could have seem that desire so whispered in her ear, that command fresh upon her lips...to hell to whose house they were in, to hell with the flimsy walls that would surely give them away.
That very leader whom her lover promised to remove out the equation. That very plan so meant to put them ahead while Mary-Beth suffered in her own self-made misery. That thought only fueling her desire, crushing her enemies in any form had been nothing more than a turn on.
But it was Darcy who for the moment had her full attention. Her touch was all but toying, smooth, idle and yet inciting. How wicked of her to toy with that very resolve, and truly she was aware of it, felt the way his body responded. Just as she expected of him to, he was always reliable to her ever whim. As if that touch somehow was an invitation a what if.. in an unlikely place. It would truly not be the strangest of places and how little she cared if anyone saw. The wayward jezebel had no problem taking exactly what she wanted... when she wanted it. That talk of dominating the southern coven leader had certain piqued her interest in more ways than one, it could be seen even if only a hint in her pale wicked gaze. Yet.... It was the room. That vile pastel country-style room entirely turned her off.. The house reminded her of a doll house rather than the headquarters of a powerful vampire coven. "This room... is repulsing." Risque suddenly declared.. Perhaps far away from this vile cesspool.. "Let us hope dinner... is at least palatable.."
The dining room was clearly no different. Perhaps in many ways worse that the other rooms she had seen. Yet how it matched that southern woman to the t, the one with the smug gleaming smile plastered upon her face. As if she knew something Risque didn't. She hated that look, how tempting it was to squash her like the insect she was... but that would hardly do.. Not with Darcy's wicked plan decidedly the best option to watch her suffer.
That meal was the final straw... it was unfit to even entertain even though those ingrained manners instilled within her having her sampling a bite. It was every bit as unappealing as it looked. She so poked around that food as if it were poisoned. Yet she was ever aware at how Darcy seemed to all but inhale it. Every vampire, save for Risque seemed entirely besotted with the presented food. Did they not possess taste buds? Perhaps the assaulting salt so burned off their sense of taste. She hardly knew nor cared that she was odd one out in this instance, the woman completely content to show her disapproval. She was hardly quiet as she declared Darcy could possess her share. Risque's ever darkening mood, interrupted by yet another jab from Mary-Beth. In an instant that tension roared to life and hardly lessened from there.... It was like a steady white noise roaring in her mind. Scratching away at that flimsy resolve she just barely clung to, decorum hardly seeming to matter anymore. Despite that unimpressed façade, Risque was moments away from launching across that table to rip that smile from her smug lips... It was clear this dinner was nothing short of a mistake. For what seems like an eternity in that locked stare, a war was raging between the two women. Risque was nothing short of ruthless when it came to this art of submission. No doubts in her mind that she would come out on top, even if it ended in a bloodbath.
To make matters worse, at the insult to food that was served.... The veritable assault to her ears was simply too much, if not for the subtle jabs... the décor.. the food.. this was it. That voice could make devil's weep, she was sure of it. Mary-Beth and her entire coven were savages... uncultured swine that were beneath her. How she nearly desired to play target practice with Darcy's holstered guns even if she hadn't a hope to actually hit anything except by pure fluke alone.. There was no joke within that statement. Mary-Beth slammed her foot down like a petulant spoiled little shrill little girl and that was it. Enough was enough. In but a moment, the human servant playing the piano was executed mid-note.. the most entertaining thing the southern coven could have given her. Her oppressive power flooded that room, pressing against her opponent. Perhaps she should make her scream... just a little.. just to hear the sound.. but if it sounded anything like that singing.. perhaps she should think against it.
Dinner was over. Risque so stalked toward the other vampire, her silken movements sure as she imagines all the ways she could end her... The only thing sharp was the clipped sound of her silver tipped heels against the wood. That sadism floods her eyes, her gaze unwavering in that fixated, unblinking stare. How she wonders if she could drive the woman insane with the use of that torment ability... how simple it would have been to have held her captive along with anyone here that opposed her. They couldn't stop her.. she was the most powerful being in the room. It wouldn't be the worst way to spend her evening. How she wished for Mary-Beth to try... all it took was sending that temper to snap.. one attempted blow and that challenge would have been issued. All it took.. was one misstep and Mary-Beth would face the true death. Do it... Risque hoped for that opportunity.. those subtle movements all but meant to coax just that. Maybe she could swing her by that dress of hers if only to see how far she could throw her. Or perhaps she could stuff her with hay and place her in the middle of the field like a scarecrow, content to allow her to combust at sunrise attached to a spike. She knew that Darcy was at the ready, she could feel his own power brushing against her own, a familiar strong force that seemed somehow stronger than before. But he knew better to not intervene, not now in these crucial delicate moments. Risque made no recognition to that very feel even if she hardly acknowledged it. Risque was practically pressed up against the woman, suffocating her of her personal space. How unintimidated she was.
That was when Mary-Beth broke fell beneath that weight, crumbled like paper beneath Risque's pressure... She crumpled with as much grace as a decapitated turkey... That stamp of the southern woman's foot and storming out of that room, taking that power storm with her... solidifying Risque's own victory. That dreadful grating shriek piercing her hears, but even that was better than her singing. Who would have thought? Risque remained where she stood, as if nothing ever happened. Once she was sure Mary-Beth was not returning, she faced the timid Wyatt who seemed careful to avoid her eyes. No fight came from him... it was a pity... how anticlimactic the tension deescalated. Wyatt made some promises of sending men in a quick bid to appease that situation... it would seem Darcy had done some work... even despite the dinner debacle, they managed to rise above, on top. While she wasn't surprised, she reveled in it all the same. With her arms crossed firmly across her chest, hip jut out like she was beautifully unimpressed. Her toe impatiently tapping as if her time was being wasted by the lesser vampire who seemed to possess all the sense in that relationship and none of the power. The southern gentleman was nothing but controlled and at the ready to smooth over the messes his darling petunia seemed to create in her wake which now seemed to be resorted to vase shattering. Risque looked upward as if she could see through the ceiling.. as the sound of glass raining down upon the floor. She suspected there would be nothing untouched by the end of that temper tantrum..
A moment later a servant appeared with a heavy wooden crate filled with moonshine, the bottle clinking from that clumsy shaking. The stupid soul so having the nerve to approach the queen herself. Even though he averted his eyes... it was clear he was not educated at all. The southern coven leader could not even control her servants right. Risque scoffed looking at the little flea as though she looked right through him, her arms not even bothering to uncross then. The man deemed unworthy to exist in her presence. It was then Darcy's hiss cut through the room, Risque noticing that barred fanged outraged face. Darcy so taking it upon himself to discipline the help, slapping the withering man at the back of the head. Finally someone with sense.. Taking that case himself before chastising him. That servant all but ran out of that room, a blubbering mess. That very action of Darcy stepping in to her defense has Risque all but staring at him.
"Darcy." Risque warned.. the scampering fool of a servant getting off far too easy for her liking. She could have made him put the crate into their vehicle and then beg for forgiveness.. At the very least she would have enjoyed a play toy... No. Darcy took the crate, despite possessing vampire strength he demoted himself in the eyes of the mate of the coven leader. "Why are you carrying that? That is what the servant is for. He should have been made to hold it until we were finished our conversation."
It was then that the conversation shifted to that route back into the city to their hotel and Risque nearly walked herself to their car, clearly over this plantation. Risque hardly gave much attention as the men talked directions, those rickety, pothole ridden roads meant very little to her. A means to an end, to return back to the city nightlife, where she might find some semblance of a good time. She so went into the back, producing a professionally packaged glossy black bag, filled with Syn merch and an unopened bottle of their finest blood infused alcohol. How undeserving they were of that gift.. and yet with the meal.. they had.. they were in need of a little charity.
She moved with that bag placed precariously within her fingers entwined with the handle of that gift bag. That audible sound of a sigh punctuated her own impatience to leaving. But there was a look that seemed to draw upon her lover's features. One she could see vividly stormy he seemed now. Curious. How rarely he let those emotions show... especially when she so sensed it like a fresh blood trail, near irresistible to ignore. How evidently his mood seemed to shift.. it was difficult to say which part displeased him most. "The more we talk about it the longer it will take, after all, Wyatt... we are familiar with how those GPS devices in our phones work." And perhaps little....about how signal works in the deep dark country. Her tone was almost snobbish, as though his directions were hardly needed. Although that town sounded.... Familiar. Jakin.... She swore she heard it somewhere. She thought on it, tasting it within her mind... Regardless, who was anyone to tell her she was wrong. Darcy stormed off, her sharp gaze followed Darcy as he practically brushed past the southern gentleman known as Wyatt. Risque remaining long enough to utter those words and handing the man that bag, expecting him to be entirely gracious to receive anything at all.
"You can give my regards to Mary.. but make sure you tell her I expect... a written apology in her own writing..." She drew her manicured finger to her lips as she pondered, as if coming up with a formal kind of punishment on the spot. Who was Wyatt to deny her? Who was Mary Beth to try after her rather embarrassing outburst? As far as Risque was concerned, they were in debt to her.. to call upon whenever she pleased. "I do recommend that you get your house in order, or soon the servants will be running you. It would be.... A pity... to see another coven sense your weakness and take all that you have... I will expect the letter within a week... Pleasure." There was something in that final word, dangerous in its depths that clearly showed how it very much wasn't. She rose her hand to be kissed, her expression nothing but haughty then as if she were doing Wyatt a favour simply by speaking to him or acknowledging his presence.
The car awaited her, Darcy already had that crate stored away and her door waiting for her to get inside. She scanned him astutely.. he seemed... distracted. His attention somewhere distant. Wyatt nervously attempted at more pleasantries she easily ignored.
Darcy was quick to send that engine to life, wheels sputtering in reverse, spitting out gravel in every direction as they made their hasty exit. He handled the car with distinct ease until they all but roared out of sight from that dreadful plantation, leaving it to nothing more than a distant memory even despite Risque's souring mood. That manicured nail tapping along that windows ledge, as if there was far more to say about the matter. Darcy's mood hardly seemed to fair much better.. she all but stared at him... his jaw clenched, fixated upon the ambiguous darkness ahead. There wasn't a single street lamp in sight upon those roads that seemed all but sliced through the middle of farmer's fields. As though they had no right to put a road there. Especially with how badly paved it was.
That explanation freely offered was hardly seemed to answer for his mood as if he could pluck the question from her mind, then giving an excuse she hardly cared for about that food. "I have never seen you so excited over... salt-water with lentils.... And you picked that chicken clean.. You can't possibly be full on that.... Are you?" That little mention that she had been aware of just how much he enjoyed that soup. "I hope you don't trust Wyatt's directions.. I do not think he is above leading us on some wild goose chase through the south" She knew southern hospitality was a sham. She crossed her arms, tapping a finger upon her smooth pale flesh of her exposed arms.
It was then that Darcy spoke of that lack of blood, Risque turning her head to all but gape at him. "You couldn't..... drain anyone after you were turned?" She could hardly hold back the disbelief. "I knew you came from nothing.. but you starved too? Its like trying to get rich on fool's gold, you can't. No vampire can reach their true potential like this." She was appalled. While she cared very little about the vampires of the south and their backwards way of living. This place was utterly... abysmal. What was the point of all this power, all of this immortality to live a mortal life? Surely that lack of sustenance in their diet had effected their minds as well.... No wonder why Mary-Beth was not dealing with a full deck. For a moment, she could almost pity them.. "I did them a favour.. by killing their man servant... they will at least be able to eat a decent meal then." Who would choose to live like this she hardly knew.
She could hardly imagine the sight of her mate starving himself of blood, by making every last drop he could scrouge... count. He truly had come from nothing. No wonder why he never talked of his past. Risque had never been left wanting, never left desiring for materialistic items or something so simple as sustenance, she simply took what she wanted as anyone with privilege would have. It was then that Darcy went onto that explanation of... cattle. That almost pitying look snatched away as quickly as it had come.. Her face went entirely blank, unblinking as she stared at her cowboy like he were speaking complete gibberish. This was the man she had accepted as mate...rambling on about... filthy cows and breeding humans... and eating blood laced meals and calling it true food. All he had.. confirmed was that the south was hopeless... no wonder why Mary-Beth asked for her help. "Even with letting them breed like rabbits... you forget.. we are vampire. We are meant to be hunter's.. not farmers." They took what they wanted... they didn't need to worry about sustainability. It sorted out itself.
That shift of conversation died as the sound of music flooded that vehicle that shuddered with yet another unavoidable crater in the road. This was going to be... a very long drive. How irritable she felt, even that music grating upon her nerves. How the south left so little to be desired.. perhaps Atlanta served to be more promising. It had better... she left... Syn for this. Her kingdom that had been vulnerable.
The monotony of the farmer's fields seemed to blur together as they drove down this cursed country road... the woman choosing to glimpse upward at the night sky. At the very least that proved to be far more interesting. How hindered her view was within the city, she hardly knew what she was missing until now. Her gaze following a shooting star, as a muddied memory threatened to sift through the murk of her mind. It was when the shattering sound of a police siren that abruptly halted the memory from taking view at all. They weren't going that fast were they? She could hardly tell.. with all those divots in the road that seemed to slow them down. At least that little cop wouldn't be hard to lose... That motorcycle looking as sad as the state of that town sign they had just passed.
Risque's attention so piqued at the mention of a snack, like a lioness catching sight of a potential meal she suddenly sat straighter. A wonderful idea.. at least she didn't have to suffer this car ride.... Hungry. Even after that car so shuddered in yet another pothole. Her appetite surely had been far from sated with that salty, fatty dish that dared to be called a meal. But that meal was something else entirely. An insult to food she was sure of it. The waste of blood poured in that soup would have been better off served in a glass. "Mmm. I could use..... the outlet and a break from these potholes. I hope he is tasty..." That mention of changing that vehicle set aside, far more focused on the promise of a meal... All the different ways she could toy with her food entered her mind then. had almost brought a subtle hit of a smirk as her tongue toying with the corner of her mouth. Her predatory gaze glanced over to mirror, catching a glimpse of those flashing lights. It was Darcy's curse that broke the reverie, that promise of the hunt saw to that shift in her posture. It didn't take much time at all for that potential meal had been obliterated, the cop was hardly human, but a vampire. She had been sitting on the edge of her seat, hand poised at the door to claim her prize. It didn't take long at all for that hiss of disappointment from breaking the threshold of her lips as she sank into her seat.
Perhaps she should have killed the vampire for sport anyways. An outlet for her poor mood and empty stomach. Risque shifted in her seat, as that vampire cop began to lecture them. Clearly, he had no clue whom he had pulled over, the man simply doing his job and yet Risque could not spare a single act of patience with every annoying word fallen from his lips. Would he spare them and just.... Shut up. What she could not stand more than the fact that he was not a viable source of food, was the fact that he thought, he, that pitiful excuse for a vampire could lecture them. It was just when she was about to reach forth with her power that Darcy's sudden sharp turn of his head shattered that moment. Those powers retreated and replaced than none other confusion. Jakin.. that name.. sounded familiar somehow and yet she could hardly place it... It was that mention of the officer's name that truly struck a chord in her lover, one that had even Risque studying Darcy. What had gotten into him? After since they left Wyatt, he was hardly himself. At the next moment, the officer was leaning into the car, invading their space his tone changing from lecture and chastisement to....excitement. The next words that came out of his sputtering mouth may as well have been gibberish. Instantly she knew the name... of that town. How..... utterly friendly he was... and how he spoke to Darcy has her leaning slightly to take a look of this..... friend of Darcy. Well, well, well. What an interesting development. This was Darcy's hometown.... How... convenient.
"It would seem we now have to pay this ranch a little visit.. You see Jakin's favourite son... was just explaining..... cattle to me.. I think I would... understand it better.. if I could... see it with my own eyes." There was an almost French lilt as she attempted to say that town's name.
"What are the chances... that we had no choice but to stumble across... your human home." It was almost like he planned it. There was some kind of twisted amusement within her voice especially as she sensed his unease. It was written all over his face and so she seized that moment just to make him squirm.
"Darcy... are you not going to properly introduce me to.... Your little uniformed friend?" Who was this? Risque had never met a single person from Darcy's past and perhaps, this was the most intriguing thing to have happened this night.
She reached out over toward him, her hand brushing against his leg. "Lets go take back your... ranch. I should like to see how the... son of Jakin truly lived..." Big deal, kill a few squatters. Perhaps razing to this little nothing town would do it some good. Maybe she could create a little enjoyment of messing with the numbers on population sign.. "Besides, I need to stretch out my legs." She so stretched in emphasis, languid like a feline, arching her back. Perhaps she could truly... have some fun. Surely this lone dirt road was not.... It. Surely, Darcy would show no reservations to this plan.. especially after that disappointing dinner.