His own feet skidded to a halt upon that damp, earthen forest floor, his boots leaving lines in the earth with the force of that effort to halt his own forward trajectory. That vampiric speed a distinctly difficult thing to stop. That muddied earth at least providing some level of traction. Tetradore, ahead of him, had near frozen in place. Seized by his lovers own power in those precarious moments in which that fool of a cat had tried to flee them both. Darcy could hardly see those visions of torment he knew Risque subject her pet too and yet he could feel her power. That energy emitted between the trees to slither and slide like the darkness itself. It was...alluring, that power, that energy, the feel off it. How much it reminded him of that night they had met. He had been drawn to her power then too. Like a moth to the flame. Risque a veritable beacon within the darkness he was ever capable of finding. That power was ...intoxicating within its own right. That adrenaline and hunger that seared within his own veins from that tempting chase was only further fueled by that potently powerful presence. Darcy so momentarily struggling to tug those vampiric instincts back when that desire to obliterate that cowering cat whispered all but darkly in his ears. A soft, irritable snort left his lips as he turned his mismatched gaze from the prone panther. Darcy instead allowing his footsteps to fall silent as he circled wide and around the other man, his tall, muscular figure clinging to the shadows as he moved to locate his own Mistress. Darcy appearing with a silent obedience beside her. Risques own gaze fixated with a clear delight upon her precious pet. Darcy so at last inquiring softly as to what it was the anther saw. He knew, after all, to some extent, just how that power worked and yet he had never seen those visions for himself. Risques tormenting power incapable, not manner how she tried, from breaching his own mind. Though how or why he hardly knew. Whatever Tetradore saw so seeming to have broken the fucking fool entirely. He had almost been enjoying that chase too. Pity.
"Oh, I remember."
How readily that grin found his lips within the dark. Those wicked doubled fangs flashing within that moonlight at Risque's very explanation of just what visions she had flooded Tetradore's mind with. That very night they had taken his family and burned anything that had dared to remain standing in the wake of that initial assault. How well he remembered it. Those screams had been ...exciting. That flowing blood equally so. The singe and scorch of fire and smoke only having further tempted the vampiric cowboy. It had reminded him of the war- of gunsmoke and cannon fire. How he had relished in that night. Those vampiric instincts to destroy so having been allowed to ran rampant. Darcy so terribly prone to ...losing control when unleashed among chaos in turn. He remembered Tetradore too. The man no more than a child then. He could barely have been ten years old. The boy racing through that darkness to reach that ridiculous tree house even as it caught fire. Darcy had spotted him through that smoke and haze. A predator drawn to movement of any kind. He still remembered snatching the boys shirt, prying a baby Tetradore from that tree he'd clung to as if he'd somehow believed it was save him. The boy dangling by his shirt in sheer terror. A child. Useless to Darcy's own mind. He'd been mere seconds from tearing the boy apart when Rique had stopped him. She wanted that one, she said. Demanded to have him. Darcy so having been forced to relinquish his little prize.
"I nearly killed 'im dat night. Yar wanted ta keep 'im. Least he cries less now. Dat was an annoying damn sound. We fed well dat night 'ough."
That simper tugged at his lips again, one that lingered only so long as it took Risque's own gaze to return to tetradore and away from himself. Darcy's own features darkening decidedly. Snatching Tetradore from that tree had been his first mistake. Hesitating before he' torn the boys throat out had been his second. If he'd ignored the fucking child, or killed him, maybe he wouldn't be here now. Thirty fucking years he'd been dealing with that......pet Risque had demanded to have that night. Tetradore a been...tolerable at first. When he'd finally stopped sobbing and asking for that family that no longer existed. Darcy having almost found the boy agreeable to have around. The occasional slap so having kept him well enough in line or reminded him not to ask stupid bloody questions and yet, in thsoe days, he'd rarely raised a hand to the boy. He hadn't needed to. As he'd gotten older he'd even become mildly useful. Tetradore liked cars, the boy having been helpful with that, a good garage assistant. Those vehicles perhaps the singular, genuine interest he had ever shared with the panther and yet.....Tetradore had continued to get older. Risques interest in the boy having changed from a mere fascination in a toy to play with to something far less appealing. Tetradore, somehow, having managed to inspire his lovers attentons and affections. To steal them away from him where they belonged. His beloved Risque so suddenly seeming to find a very different sort of interest in her pet. As if Tetradure deserved her. How darkly and potently that jealousy tore at him even now. Risques attentions upon the WerePanther having readily seen Darcy's own interactions with the boy become more and more hostile over the years. How he hated that man. It was Tetradores fault. All of it. Every single thing.
"Yar, a pity."
That growl that threatened at his throat was quickly swallowed. Darcy so refusing to give away his own displeasure here and now lest Risque seize upon it and decide to make a new game for herself. The vampiric cowboy so determinedly forcing that neutrality to his features. Risque promptly declaring it time to take what she was owed. That pleasure his lover was sure to take in his gifts so managing to appease his own irritation once more as she strode forward. Darcy offering that single nod of assurance that he would hardly allow Tetradore to flee. The vampire more than ready to snatch him up again should he make any effort to do just that. Darcy followed behind his Mistress then as she circled about her fallen prey with those honeyed, teasing words. How much he hoped they brought Tetradore nothing but distress. The panther hardly seeming to move from his crouched, fearful position and yet his paws lingered dangerously close to that mud. That bracelet's cleanliness decidedly more threatened than Darcy deemed acceptable. That warning hiss rising on his own lips. One near drowned out by Risques own sudden displeasure at her boots having been coated in that same mud.
How quick she was to seize Tetradore then, scruffing the feline with ease, jerking his body sharply in punishment for having stained her outfit. Darcy merely content to watch that reprimand with some measure of satisfaction before she abruptly pulled that feline agianst her, a bid to reach his neck, to feed on blood and yet for a singular moment she almost seemed to relish that...feel of him. That warmth and fur. Darcy's so unable to prevent the fashion in which his teeth ground over one another in irritation. The man remaining where he stood all the same. Risques fangs plunged suddenly into Tetradore's neck then. The scent of that blood alluring even to Darcy. Saliva so rapidly flooding his own mouth in anticipation of that meal he was likely to be denied all the same. How rarely he was ever allowed to feed from Tetradore in turn. Risque so often keeping the panther entirely to herself and yet that Alpha blood ...appealed to his lover in a way it failed to do for himself. He would hardly turn down that WereBlood and yet ...Were had never been his favourite flavour.
That sudden sound of his name upon her lips so readily seemed to break that near hungered stare he had afforded the pair with, that vampiric nature so tending to draw his attention to blood wherever it spilled into the air. Darcy so instantly stepping forward to come to his Mistress' side as commanded. Tetradore all but thrown at his feet with that command to keep him occupied as Risque snatched that key from the cats collar and that sparkling bracelet from his paw.
"As yar wish, Darlin'. Stay fuckin' still."
Those final words were little more then a hiss as Darcy simply moved to crouch down beside that thrown feline. The vampire reaching out to grasp Tetradore's scruff once more and keep the panther pinned to the ground as Risque examined that curious key and that sparkling, feline shaped bracelet. The sudden scent of that blood momentarily drew the vampires attention downward once more, his fingers lifted briefly away from that scruff to eye the blood from that bite wound that marred them. His free hand came to rest upon Tetradore's shoulder then, a subtle reminder to keep still- and quiet. Darcy lifted his bloodied fingers to his lips then- hs tongue snaking out to lick that liquid from them. That taste nothing short of satisfying his own hunger and yet- he was hardly fool enough to take his eyes from Risque. That mismatched gaze ever watchful of his lover. His Mistress liable to take displeasure in his...sampling that blood without direct permission and yet surely she was distracted enough with those gifts not to mind that slight indiscretion? He was hungry after all. Darcy shifted but slightly then, the vampire leaning forward and down to that bloodied wound on Tetradore's neck, his eyes so never leaving Risque all the same. Those words uttered darkly agianst Tetradore's fur.
"Ya make one fuckin' sound and i will snap yar ribs again."
How barely above a whisper they were into Tetradore's fur, just loud enough for the panther alone to hear. Darcy running his tongue along that wound then, licking readily at that blood, the vampire hardly stupid enough to bite and prompt Tetradore to cry out else allow Risque to find him ith his fangs in her pet. That faintest of shifts upon his lovers own figure abruptly seeing Darcy lean away with lightning fast efficiency as if he had never touched that wound at all. A simper finding his features then as he met Risques gaze.
"Dat key will unlock another gift back at da bar. One I got brought in all special-like just for ya. Dat bracelet 'ough, yar can wear right now if it please. Cartier, o'course."
How well he knew those brands she adored most....
We are rough men and used to rough ways.