"Good to hear. I have phenomenal sportsmanship and I happen to have a very strong winning streak. I like games."

I heard the humor resonating in her voice, which pulled my smile broader. Her humor was endearing, even if it was spawning from her lack of blood. It was evident, though, that she was enjoying herself at least a little bit; the conversation would be dull and draining if she wasn't. I ran a finger over my lips, letting my gaze hit hers when she had stolen a glance at me. What, was she sneaking them? I tried to keep from laughing, but was unable to keep the entire thing at bay. She had stolen one of those looks, her sterling eyes tracing features she would have thought exotic.

"Is that... mockery, I hear?" I cocked my brow again, urging her to continue the banter. Most women shied away from it with me, either simply uncomfortable or they were unable. Usually, I voted for the later, considering to most, bra size was more important than speed of wit. Surprisingly, she continued without being provoked by calling me an incubus. And that time, I could only snort my laughter, unsure of how far off the truth her reply was. So far from gentleman, an incubus was more demon than anything else. Me? I guess that was a bullet on my professional experience on my resume.

"A Dark Hunter is like a little kid strapped into the body of a line-backer on a professional football team, in this city. Pea brains, muscles, and occasionally some talent to tie up the package with a bow." I had met several, especially working with my element. All had some story or another for why they wanted a certain weapon created in a certain manner. As for me? I said fuck it. Make what they want. Many of them wouldn't double cross me, their means of an end, so why would it be my prerogative to dissuade them? It wasn't. "There is something absolutely masculine about being gentle; but I would argue that it takes an understanding of the opposite to become gentle," I started to say, a little softer than I intended. " I wouldn't expect jocks to understand," I finished, exhaling some feigned indignance to make up for it.

The night was quiet in other parts of the city, but this area was never too quiet. With bustling businesses lining the sides of the streets, our destination was at the apex. When she was out of the cab beside me, I gently moved her arm so that her hand rested on the inner corner of my arm. Her perfume was an uncomfortable distraction; enough so I didn't even want the cigarette that was all but bursting from the pack in my pocket. It was some kind of intoxicating, mixed with adrenaline I didn't even notice showing up. When she spoke, I couldn't help but find the same humor in my voice.

"I would be lying if I said I hadn't had fun killing a man before, but this is quickly topping my list." My words were soft, directed only for her to hear as I maneuvered her through the crowd at the restaurant. People dressed in all kinds of high end clothing waited for their reservation, lining up for the hostess' attention. Busy was good, it meant getting lost in a crowd later on was well within my- our, probability. I slid my arm from her's, choosing to instead wrap it around her waist and draw her closer. What if this wasn't what we were here for? What if instead, this was truly the date we had been musing over? Oysters, wine, ... oh, hey, murder. I exhaled very slowly, forcibly repressing a shiver.

I would so be lying if I said it didn't all turn me on.

Yes, even the murder.

" Sir, our waiting area is -" The hostess began, her head tilting when I shook mine in response to what she had started to say. I wasn't planning on waiting through her lines about waiting our turn, making a reservation. She noted the lack of tolerance, and shut up very quickly. Thankfully.

" I have a reservation for six, under Davante Dorian. We spoke before, I believe..." I waited, my eyes never leaving the hostess' while I spoke. Granted, this had all been planned with my "associates" before, and they were already here with our guest of honor. We were to casually bump into them, forcing them to invite us to sit. The hostess performed perfectly, looking worried that she had nothing under my name. She stuttered for a moment, but I let a small smile touch my face. It would help her think I was genuine, but her discomfort would remain the same, especially with my eyes trained straight on hers. She miraculously agreed, nodding that she had something set up for us. The moment her back was turned, I gently pressed my hand into the small of Serafina's back, letting her know I was following.

I felt more at home in my skin in those few moments, locking eyes with the guest of honor and my associates than I had in such a long time I couldn't quantify. It felt like walking on water, and when they called my name, I felt the snake-charming smile slither its way onto my lips like this was my true calling.

"This will be fine, thank you," I quipped to the hostess, who quickly left like I'd stung her. She hurried back to the front of the restaurant with only a quick look back at us, like she was either sorry for Serafina or for herself that she wasn't in her place.

" Davante! What a nice surprise. Here I was, thinking you were too fresh off the boat for American food!" One of the men started, showing Serafina that he was more or less part of my plans. I hadn't intended for much personal chatter, although I realized how wrong that was when he opened his mouth. I pulled a chair for Serafina, waiting until she was near seated to gently push it in for her before sitting beside her, letting the same nonchalant smile rest on my face, although visibly different from the fitfully good humored one of earlier.

"Just because I am from Africa does not mean I have never had a real meal," I drawled. "Even if those meals were paid for by monstrous commercials where they coerce you into donating pennies," I finished, the nonchalant smile turning into a Cheshire grin. "Now if you don't mind, this beautiful woman believes me a gentleman. Let's keep the image intact. Serafina, these are the men who have been so kind as to employ â€" what was it..." I tapped my lips, looking at her instead. "A fresh off the boat savage!"