How time eroded and shaped their very lives, only further shaped by the backlash of their choices. That world was so easily hers for the taking and that included everything within it. Risque leaned into the plush of that seat as she considered those very words, the vehicle covering ground with blazing speed. She crossed her slender leg over the other neatly, a singular finger toying with the ledge upon the door. Hunters, such irksome creatures, how many had tried to meddle in her business, only deterring the inevitable for maybe a heartbeat until they were sent to their fiery miserable end. Those hunter's probably barely travelled here now, there was nothing for their egos to save.. the vampires already forced to slim pickings.. the intrusive creatures sticking to those densely populated areas where the true games were played. How well Risque played that game herself within her concrete citadel that foolish few would breach. Darcy spoke that fact "Mmm.. Not much has changed the last time I was here.." That very statement like a blade to the soft underbelly.. how easy it would be cast every vampire to their knees in their perpetually stuck state... at least if Mary-beth and her coven was any indication of the rest of the god forsaken covens that survived here. How content she was to fill her mind with those pleasing thoughts of domination, even if she had no intentions to truly act upon them. It was an art she honed exceptionally well over the years, the thought of watching those who opposed her falling seemed leave a pleasant aftertaste.
Only when she was sated with that, she honed her full attentions upon the stormy vampire in the car, how foul his mood was, she could feel it from here.. How she often desired him wound up and sprung tight, this felt different, lost to his own bitter thoughts. Out of her own boredom she shifted to yet another topic, one that seemed to garner that slight curl of his lips. It was like a smug pride that suddenly took hold as that dismal mood seemingly chased back like shadows to flame. At least for a time.. How unaware that it was her to shift his moods to something far more palatable, Risque hardly the type of person care about anyone else save herself.. and yet subconsciously she somehow did just that.
That response was hardly surprising in the least. Of course he yearned for that power, it was alluring.. intoxicating.. and once you possessed that taste, earned it. There was simply no way she would allow herself to give it up. "The world is in no short supply of idiots." That dark indication easily uttered with complete disdain and agreeance. Somewhere buried within those words was a hunt of sadistic amusement with that suggestion. There was never a short supply of those to take out, to dominate, to cut down from that feeble pedestal so many perched upon. How that very world was their chessboard and others were so effortlessly removed from it with a maneuver of hand. Risque hardly one to suffer through fools, nor did she need to, not when such power she wielded. She knew she had cultivated Darcy, saw that potential within him early and shaped him. She knew she gave him the taste of that oh so intoxicating power, saw him get high upon that elixir that the gods and those that were worthy had sipped.
It was only a matter of time that Sacrosanct was hers, surely... Darcy knew it.. that the breath of war on the horizon only brought her one step closer to that goal. The promise of it enough to taste. The sooner she sent Cade and his cronies to their end, the better. That alluring foreshadowing was enough to help ease the jolting shudder of that vehicle.. Almost.. At least for a time. Soon it wore so very thin, her thoughts no longer enough to quench her rising irritation for long. Not even that music or speed of that sleek car was enough to make her any less away of how unbearable this sportscar handled the roads, nor how long it had been since she last fed. It was the appearance of that police man that should have sent her close to murder and perhaps it almost did until that familiarity between her mate gave her mind a whole new game to play, like a kitten batting at yarn. If this trip had shown her, it was how much her mate kept from her. While he would speak about the war and his conquests. There was so very little he spoke of. There were no names... save for his maker that she had turned to ash. Another unworthy man to die by her hand.
It hardly took much time before Clays apparent knowledge and charm wore off, that offered hand met with that warning. He was lucky she didn't rip it clean off from his body even though it certainly crossed her mind. In any other scenario that might have been a reality. That icy glare shot at that misplaced appendage like it offended her. She had already honed upon her next venture and she wanted that cop gone.. like a scent upon a breeze he had served his very purpose. The longer he lingered the more her patience seemed to be tried. The cop's excited demeanor wearing her faux charm thin. Clay was foolish enough that he hardly caught the slight shift of energy within that proximity. The weaker ones always seemed almost oblivious... at least the ones without any true potential for power. His laughter as vexing as copious potholes they had hit.
That test placed clearly before Darcy to answer, as if she dared him to deny her now with his given precarious mood. As she anticipated... underneath the near jovial stare of Clay and the lethal, fixated glance of her own that he offered that compliance. Fortunately, it wasn't long before Clay took his leave, Risque paying little attention to the mention that party for now. Darcy unleashed a heavy sigh but said nothing of his discontent save for that silence that overtook the vehicle.
It was finally after a short five-minute drive that they made it to Boot Barn... This town left so very little to be desired. Or so she thought until she found herself in the most unlikely section at the back of that crowded store. The notion of those boots swept heftily to the back burner as she all but plundered that fascinating section of chains, leather and various appealing items that seemed to taunt her. It was easy to forget everything else in that store including its unpleasant musty aroma... and unseemly creaking, uneven floors. It was almost a good thing that it was as cluttered and overwhelmed with so much merchandise, to take away from its dilapidated appearance.
Risque heard those looming footsteps before she saw her lover coming, especially when she had been so entirely focused upon that peculiar large metal contraption, she within her slender and hand. She could feel his presence looming close, as if inquisitive of what had ensnared her own attention. She pivoted upon her heels in a distinct fluidity with that question about the device within her hand appeared fresh upon her dark crimson lips. Of all the damn places Risque could find some semblance of interest within the south itself, it somehow managed to be this very store. Of course, she could do without Marline, but at the very least the woman was edible.
The full weight of her slicing expecting stare met Darcy with certain anticipation to answer her, holding up the stainless steel medical apparatus firmly within her hand. It was impossible not to notice the way her undead cowboy seemed to squirm at the sight of them. That explanation only seemed to peak her very interest, ignoring the very fact that Darcy told her that she didn't have a use of them. That gaze hardly shifted, barely blinking as if she was not going to move without knowing exactly its purpose, as though she dared him to test her in this store, here and now. Was that knowledge truly worth sullying her mood? She would decide if it was something she didn't want, not him. An indicative sigh escaped her, a clear indication that she was not content with that explanation... which finally prompted Darcy's true contrived response.. She squeezed the handles upon it, as if trying to make it work and figuring out that very purpose on her own. It made a pinching motion much akin to plyers... when Darcy's voice suddenly rang clear...albeit far more hesitant than usual.
"An emasculator... How interesting.." A single manicured brow rose, tuning out the rest of Darcy's ramblings. That suggestion that she didn't need such a tool completely lost until that southern feminine voice chimed in from across the store. That little nosy bitch had been listening onto their conversation.
"Mimi... that was the most useful thing you have said thus far.. although no one asked you your opinion." Fool. She snapped, her voice like a whip cracking down in chastisement.. without even looking her way and yet that message had been heard loud and clear. That look of unease upon Darcy's face clearly did not go unnoticed.
Amusement seemed to cross her features then as she suddenly perked up, it was clear that her mind was already at work. "I do not need livestock to use these... I can think of a great many uses for this..." She mused precariously, her voice drifted as she thought of a few at least at this very moment.
Of course, she so seized upon that clear discomfort upon her lover then. "You won't give me a reason to use these, now will you?" Her gaze rose from those tools as she snapped them shut while locking her gaze upon him, before idly tossing those tools upon the pile she had accumulated. It made it perfectly clear that it was coming home with them.
That was when she eyed the boots her undead cowboy has procured for her. Of course, it hardly went without notice with those shrewd pale blue eyes. How disappointing they didn't come in something a little taller.. alas, this outfit only needed be temporary... and it truly could have been worse. She could have looked like Mimi. "Pity.." She articulated nonchalantly.
Darcy's own gaze shifted to the amassed collection of items that Risque had somehow managed to find interest within the short time of being within the store. That shock evident upon his face before that question died despite already being uttered and fresh upon the air. That snap of the look she had shot at him was enough for him to yield, hastily backtracking. That very statement left little to contend with, that dangerous line he so quickly raced toward. She answered that dangerous question he uttered all the same. "Did I not select these things?" There was that flash of warning, mixed within that poisonous honey of her rich voice. He had never been so foolish to question her purchases, despite the looming total that would undoubtedly appear upon the cash register once rung up. The woman knew how to shop, there was no doubting in that. But had she not earned the right to spend the wealth she acquired? How dangerously quiet that store went that you could hear a pin drop, as the music stopped briefly to transition into the next droning song. It all sounded the same to her.
In those moments, Darcy had fallen silent and smartly so. Only once that moment of brief tension passed, she moved toward that chair with those cowboy boots in tow. Darcy seemed to spend too much time at where those accumulated items were as if he were examining it and yet she hardly had any need to oversee his own curiousity. In truth, she was far more intrigued with how those boots would look upon her. Unbeknownst to her and her own musings, her most recent purchase seemed to have gathered legs with her undead cowboy as its conduit...conveniently vanishing. In but a moment she summoned him to her and as she expected him to, he was already there at her beck and call in the aid of removing her boots. She kicked out her leg slowly so he could do just that, all while enjoying the sight of him on his knees before her, serving her. For but a moment, she relished in that sight before slipping on those horrendous cotton socks, quickly concealing them with her new boots.
She assessed them walking with that sinuous gait even without her usual height, she drew closer to that tall mirror, brushing by the towering form of Darcy. He seemed so much taller this way, Even though she barely noticed it in that moment, the presence she commanded still remained the same. Despite a brief pause after returning toward him. She had made her mind. That final declaration confirming just that. In a moment she turns her back toward him, that command clear.. Again, there is no hesitation as he obeyed her with that trained flawless execution before moving toward her chosen fitting room, entirely oblivious to the way that his eyes seemed to devour that milky curve of her back. Even though she knew, somehow she always knew. Marlene already standing next to Darcy waiting for Risque to try those waiting items on.
It didn't take long for that dress to fall from her figure and for her to be entirely unimpressed at those selected items. A failure upon that bubbly human. It hardly took long at all before she burst out of that changing room, in nothing but her undergarments and those cowboy boots. Risque's anger searching for an outlet, easily honed upon Marlene alone, noticing how pale the human's features had drained from Darcy's own toying. Useless human.. in an equally useless town, she was sure.
Like force she swept about the store, choosing her own clothing, hardly aware of the way her undead cowboy all but devoured her with with a fierceness. Her body seemed to call upon him so forcefully. Marlene even could not help at the very way she gawked even despite being flustered by the powerful force of nature that was Risque. She handed some of those black jeans to Marlene to bring to the fitting room. The poor human looked exhausted, worried even, clumsily bumping into the corner of the racks as she did. Risque barely gave her another notice as she procured those tops, her gaze snapping to Darcy with that question upon falling from her lips. He stood there... near dumbfounded, frozen in place as his unique mismatched gaze seemed to fall upon Risques exposed figure with clear want mirrored from within them. She stood leaning over the table with her options. She straightened to turn toward him crossing her arms expectantly at his delayed response. Now, she was fully focused on completing that outfit... her own hunger and impatience hardly made her in the mood. Maybe within Mary-beth's living room he had better chances than here and now. A moment longer that it took for his gaze to meet her own, she would have strut right up to him and smacked some sense into him.. "Well, Darcy?" She prompted. Fortunately, the answer seemed to suffice for now. That compliment fresh upon his lips only confirming what she already knew. Yet she relished in it all the same. She ensnared her fingers into the fabric of that top, snatching it off the table before disappearing into the cramped changing room once more. But not with perhaps allowing her hips to sashay in that alluring dance that she knew he would take notice of.
Once finished dressing and concluding that alteration, she left the changing room with her dress slung over her arm neatly. She began to move when a glint of metal crossed her peripherals.. How did that get back on the shelf? The emasculator looked up at her as she frowned, her hand reaching out to snatch it once more. With a quick look of it, wordlessly attaching it to her belt, somewhat concealed by the blade...
The undead queen had altered that outfit without a second thought, that utility blade already finding a use to easily slice the fabric to suit her as it clung to her body in all the right ways. There was no doubt she knew just what embellished her assets, it was just not in her usual way. At the very least, she was impressed with the knifes its razor sharpness as it cut through that clothing she wore with ease. That black blade seemed bulkier than her usual preferences but it worked well enough. It would seem desperate times, called for the most desperate of measures. Yet despite its bulkiness, she still wielded it with fine-tuned experienced precision, ever so careful not to slice and mutilate her perfect skin beneath.. and yet still she played that Russian roulette all the same. A devil's game she rather enjoyed, hardly afraid of the promise of pain and yet she trusted her adept hand more than anything else, a master of those blades as Darcy was with his guns. She had cut that top to give herself a deeper plunging neckline (even though that top and jeans surely covered more than she would wear on any given day) and sliced holes within those jeans, allowing her pale flesh to peak through. That shirt so meticulously altered to expose the toned flesh of her midriff, along with wearing that utility belt hanging off her waist, including that blade and concealed emasculator. The woman hardly needed a weapon when she was a weapon onto herself, she still enjoyed the use of her toys.. Finally, she judiciously examined herself in the mirror, she adjusted her hair just so, allowing her hands to feel the fabric and smooth it out all the same. How she might have looked the part, she also looked extra.. as was always her way.
When Risque emerged from that creaky old, ramshackle store, still poised and ruthless as always with liquid slinking feline-esque movements that hardly were deterred upon the uneven gravel paved ground. It was then that her icy, pale spellbinding stare locked upon that vehicle and human along with her lover lingered. No longer that sportscar remained but was replaced with a monstrous mean machine, with protruding robust tires and a roomy open bed in the back. That imposing truck easily held all those purchased items and then some. That imposing silver and obsidian black vehicle seemed to demand its own space amongst the other trucks she had already seen along those roadways. While it was sleeker than most trucks, it was still so very boxy in comparison to the dainty but powerful vehicles she had always chosen. No, this truck before her was all Darcy. Her undead cowboy taking liberties in choosing something that would handle these decrepit roads well. There was no mistaking that they would certainly blend in with a truck like this.
She placed the hand upon her hip, the one that bore that striking birthday gift upon her wrist that hardly matched the outfit adorned her figure now. How it quickly became one of her favoured pieces. How far away from home they truly were. Those very words that uttered in an exhaled nonchalantly from her lips could not be any truer. Risque's attire could attest to this, including that vehicle.... But perhaps it was a small price to pay than to deal with the discomfort of another wretched, jarring pothole. How she missed those city roads now and yet... she had suffered through far worse roads than this. If one had ever ridden in a carriage without suspension, would surely confirm it.
Her pale gaze lingered upon that perky little blonde thing still lingering by that beast of a truck, the creature was a determined nuisance with even worse taste. How easy it would have been to snap the strumpet human's little neck, to bloody those horrid vibrant pink boots that assaulted her eyes. For a moment, her gaze watched her with that predacious fixation, as if she considered making a snack of her. It would be the least she could offer considering how much of an utter disappointment that shop keeper truly was. Her back...was placed just perfectly before her, she wouldn't even notice her approach... all it would take was a slight burst of speed... However, it was Darcy's rare catcall that deterred her, that gaze snapping upward toward him, that little bubbly Mimi seemed almost too quick to return that card and flee. The human gave Risque a wide birth, avoiding eye contact before returning into the safety of that store. She would have probably screamed as obnoxiously as her fashion sense too.. Risque, allowed that little human to go.. How oblivious Mimi was in those moments, how close she was to death itself. If she had lingered a moment longer, there was a certainty that it would have been her very end.
Risque was scarcely accustomed to having to climb into anything. But here she was, in the middle of nowhere climbing into a truck with a pair of cowboy boots on. Anyone that had known her would never have believed such a thing without proof. She took a moment to assess the interior, it hardly compared to the sportscar they drove in before. But it certainly seemed far more spacious along with being equipped with better suspension. Darcy was quick to maneuver to the driver's side, smoothly falling into the much larger seat than had been there before. In a moment, that engine roared to life, fiercely growling to the evening in challenge to that quiet night. She could practically feel his eyes, burning into her as she traced her fingers on those knobs and investigated the vehicle's changes.
"This is what people use to go off....the road.. Is that why you made this... truck... because we need this at your... ranch?" The proper term escaping her then, never had she gone off-roading in a vehicle like this. She certainly hoped it was faster than it appeared. Knowing Darcy would hardly create a slow vehicle by any means. How this truck seemed to suit the country lifestyle that exuded this very town in comparison to the sportscar. With her new attire that now clung to her feminine physique certainly prepared them for that trip to his ranch.
It was then that her name uttered near sweetly from his lips, that lengthy pause seemed odd rousing her slight suspicion. The last time he had used her name in such a fashion he had declared his love for her and asked to be his mate, certainly there wasn't more, was there? Risque's gaze swiftly shifted from the buttons and glowing knobs before her, leaning easily back into the seat, expectant eyes slicing toward him. That expression honed upon him with that resembled predatory focus. "What?" That word uttered in that satin smoothness, as she so studied him vehemently. She noticed the way his tongue seemed to toy with his fang he so often did in deep contemplation...
What he asked next, Risque hardly anticipated. But this request was so very different. So seemingly harmless and yet never had he put her in such a position. After several impossibly long moments, she said nothing at all. In the stillness of that truck, she finally responded. "These boots? The ones I am currently wearing now?" Her expression blank as an empty canvas as she processed those very words, that gaze cast downward to the black boots that now adorned her feet. How curious it was that he seemed so enamored by them upon her feet... More of the southern man, besides his drawl, lingered within him.
How bold he was to ask this... Yet in any conventional relationship, was it truly? But Risque was ever the fickle creature to do anything conventionally, even in life.. and yet it was just that, a cautious request. He was never too foolish enough to demand anything of her. Risque the dominant one, never relinquishing that earned control she had fought for.. bled for... yielded to no one for. He had not survived this long at her side navigating her perilous water, content to serve. Of all the things that this femme fatale could have been asked, she hardly imagined this. Although, she couldn't quite see the harm in it. How surprising how that sound still clung to him, more than she had realized before save for that thick southern drawl.
"Of all the things you would desire for your birthday... it is this?" She practically tasted those words. Her mind contemplating such a peculiar request.
"Hmm." She seemed to ponder this within her mind, turning it over in her head like something so very foreign to her.... While sex in all its various forms, it had always been on her terms alone... What that would look like with him taking the helm... seemed to strike her oddly in its consideration. One she seemed willing enough to agree to, at least for now.. "Oui, but I will not wear these socks ever again." After all, they were just boots... and yet even in that intrigue... it had been more she was willing to offer than any other.
"Of all the years you have know me, bedded me you have not once asked for anything. Tell me Darcy, what other requests have you not yet mentioned?" That gorgeous chiseled face of hers seemed entirely focused on Darcy wholly thing, her face unreadable.. How she gave so little away as to betray if this was a trap or if genuine intrigue seemed to grip her in those moments. One thing was for certain, that while the femme fatale was dangerous in her own right... she was different away from her territory she needed to protect with a violent ferocity.