Suddenly the scene about them bleeds into what appears like another realm, ethereal and endless, as though they were never within that dingy alley. The sweet pandemonium of their misdeeds for but a moment, didn't exist. The massacre was carefully concealed and she could steal but a few moments away with the englishman, giving him another head space before the stake was removed from his chest. It was a welcomed change of scenery which had seemed as if they stepped inside the depths of an elaborate painting of an otherworldly dream. She could see the way he instinctually recoiled from the blazing light of the sun, a diminutive smile found its way upon her lips at his comment. It does not take more than a moment for him to settle, knowing no harm would come for him here with world of her illusions. The sun does not burn him because she wills it not to. It didn't dare to only because of her control of everything she created, a place plucked from within the confines of such an elaborate mind. It was, however, a place only she knew, a place from her childhood with a twist of creative license of course. Little did he know how easy it could be for the woman to turn the water into necrotic black, to destroy the plants and wildlife around them, to create this paradise into a tormenting nightmare.

But she would not dare. Not when this place reminded him of his homeland, a smile sliding easily upon her sinful mouth.

Petra lets the sun warm his flesh in a gentle and loving way, so unlike the woman that often brought more trick than treat. This was all her, from the emerald blades of grass, to the sweet calls of animals in the distance, and the water that matched the colour of his eyes. Even the sun was hers for her to control in all ways, she could make it beat down hotter upon them, or make it set into the most glorious of sunsets. It was an opportunity to escape from the moon's icy caress. She wanted nothing more for him to feel safe in this moment, to lull him into a sweet dream whilst she removed that imposing stake from him. Which she executed with expert ease, even though it pained her to harm him, it was a necessity.

The resolve of her illusions flickered and waned from the pain of her nuisance wound. Why could they not be lost in this abstract for but a moment longer?

There was something hypnotic about this man as he moves, concern pushed back as he enters her space. He knows she would not lash out like she was so capable of, a coiled viper ready to strike when the moment so often rose.

Petra finds herself mesmerized by his every movement, the tautness of his muscles as he moves toward her, she watches him intently with those piercing predatory eyes devouring every second. With his shirt opened, it allowed her full view of his chest, which was painted in the crimson of his own blood. What would it taste like? He leaned in closer still, the air fluttered with suggestion between the two vampires. Blood mars her deliciously creamy flesh as her lips were still wet from her little morsel he shared with her. He moves dangerously close now, that she could feel the press of his breath before she leaned into his kiss. Each moment in this proximity only made each breath draw his luxurious scent closer to her.

The kiss was remarkably gentle and innocent, knowing very well its purpose to distract her. But her mind is anything but innocent as she lets her tongue trace his blood covered lips sinfully. Hell it tasted extraordinary. Who would of thought that vile hunter could taste so good upon his mouth? She was reluctant to let him go, despite the annoying pain of the blade sliding from her back, which made her exhale sharply.

However despite that tender kiss they shared, Petra could not help but sense the tug of something holding him back. Did he not find her beautiful? Where did his thoughts drift to, as a distant look crosses his features when he pulled back from their moment? A dainty sigh drifts from those crimson blood lips before her tongue gently traces along her bottom lip to taste him and the blood that remained there, searching his face for answers but gaining nothing from that mere glance. Confusion seems to spread across her eyes, she could not remember a time she cared like this and could not quite understand why.

They would heal quickly, so long as they were not weak and were well fed. She could practically feel his tissue, sinew and muscle suture back together, stitch by stitch, fiber by fiber. As though it would leave no memory of this dismal day, shirts could be replaced and blood could be washed off from their vampyric flesh. But she could not wash herself of him. After today, he would scar her perfectly marred skin and leave a stain on her very being. She drops the illusions, letting them fade away from her fingertips.

There is such finality within his words as he uttered his thanks so softly to this blackened soul. Yet it wasn't like her to question every word, it was her who spoke in twisted and impossible riddles. To wonder what he thought of her, to wonder if this encounter would be their last tormented her mind. She couldn't allow that to happen, to allow him to simply slip away like a thief in the night stealing fragments of her heart she didn't know were there.

"I could not just sit idle and let them defeat you. You didn't stand a chance against all three hunters." She admitted words of truth, even if there was a kindness behind them, a warmth that was not characteristic to this impish creature of illusions. The man was nearly obliterated by one of those men and she wasn't sure if he could thwart the rest of them forever. Not without her this very night. He needed her and the thought left her somewhat content. At least this way he made it out alive. "I would do it all again." Those words drop like pedals from a dying rose.

Somehow, this man had made her feel. Rejuvenated this once dead soul, igniting it to life and she wasn't ready to simply walk away. She stood upon her feet, her eyes scanning at the carnage they had made together and then flicker back to him. She snatches an idle hand within her pale manicured hand before searching for his azure gaze. "You have altered me somehow, meeting you has changed something in me." She put her own life at risk to save him and would do it again without second thought. Her words are sincere and caring yet somehow a tinge of sweet sorrow weaves its way within them, as if she knew something would end this bittersweet charade. An intoxicating rush of humanity filled her with warmth rather than that icy cold she never realised was there. Could a vampire truly feel warmth from within? "Where will you go?" She finds herself asking, somehow knowing this little tryst would soon be over and for the first time she had no idea where it would leave her.