Such a grip for a mortal, if she were human it would surely cause a bruise. His hand encases her arm fully, those fingers digging into that porcelain flesh brutishly. She merely looks at his hand there like it was nothing more than nuisance, then back toward him. How it dredges up muddied memories of time when she was alive, when she was weak and powerless to a man his size. Now, how times have changed, how she has changed, stronger more equipped to deal with anyone that thought they could control her. How once she would feed off that anger, toy with it with impish delight.. Yet not now. Not with those fragile human emotions assaulting her. Anger, his, it floods through her like he struck her. For only a fraction of a moment she felt small, felt like that same weak and powerless fool centuries ago. Her eyes narrow, her gaze draws upward to him as she remains there, frozen as if unable to move. That very stillness was so very eerie as she stares at him, expecting something else, something far worse than that grasp. She does not respond to his words, swept up for those few short moments. Those emotions are nothing but crippling, griping. How she almost expects to be struck, for the beating to start. How she forgets that she was a force of nature that can flatten this very shop along him with it. How she could create a hell to rip him apart in an instant. But she doesn't and nearly does he strike. Two creatures at an impasse. "Do you want to deal with what is outside then?" Her voice finally returns to her, distant and yet like an eerie lullaby her sing song voice reaches out.

It was just like that she remembers who and what she was. That threat escapes her, an honest hollow threat. How she hardly wanted anymore violence for tonight, how that guilt still creeps within her veins like snow moving poison. It was then that he steps back, that almost growl near leaving him them. Such a storm beneath his skin, a storm of rage. 'Fine' How impressive that a human could possess such a storm and yet control it, somewhat.. perhaps.
A sigh fragmented and soft escapes her. "I have no desire to harm you unless I must." She admits to him as though it would make a difference.

He curses her species name like it was scum he wished to rid from his tongue. He crosses his strong arms across his broad chest that only shows off those defined arms. Such high and mighty ridicule ripples from him in waves. A frown finds her once smooth features before she ponders something a notion before abandoning it to its own ruin. Yet curiosity so resolutely grips her then, how fascinated she was by it even as that perplexing frown still remained securely in place. "Your hate is a blinding thing. Tell me... does it make you feel stronger?" She inquires, half genuinely, half from her own morbidly curious amusement.

That unamused laughter escapes him suddenly, one that she finds particularly abrasive. Oh my, was she getting to him now?

Yet why she felt so offended by the way he tosses her species around she would never understand. "Do you fear me, mortal? Is that what this about? Or do you just prefer to hate what your brain cannot understand, hm?" She tilts her head to the side almost curious. That was when his gaze draws toward that body, was that what his problem was with. Those human emotions seem to confuse her and how in a moment she desperately wants to make sense of those complex sentiments that dance so blissfully over her head. How out of touch she had been from her human side.. How estranged she had been to the creatures she feasted upon.

With but a gentle gesture she steals that body away from his eyes, no blood remains nothing, a mercy she could offer him. What a huge leap for the illusionist, to actually care about another's worries, how strange it felt and yet how he would probably not notice it enough to truly appreciate this rarity. His surprise, however, amuses her, when that gaze suddenly lingers upon her. His features contort into a frown, before uttering that one-word 'Illusionist'. Well.. he was not wrong. "I am.. and perhaps more than that all the same. Do you wish to see?" She questions, her teal eyes return to the warlock with renewed interest. "Tell me, where is it where your heart yearns for most?" How quickly she can seemingly alter the fabric of reality, how eager she seemed to pluck those strings.

He pinches the bridge of his nose, anger and sarcasm drip from his words as she calls him out on the word he seemed to adore so much, explaining how it was how he felt. "How peculiar.. I have yet to feel that yet. Fuck.. I hope one day I will.." She cannot help but smile at that, her lips curling into what seems like a genuine pleasure at that very anticipation.

His anger flares once more, it was truly a remarkable unwavering thing. He angerly waves his hand in the midst of his own frustration. He questions why him? Why his shop? He probably doesn't expect her to answer and yet she does all the same. "Why does anything happen to anyone? Sometimes.. it just does." How curious those words were, uttered almost like a riddle. As though it answered all and yet at the same time it was just as rhetorical as his own question. She tips her head to the side then, curious as he growled grumpily about blood bags at the hospital. What was he even talking about? "What do you mean, blood bags?" She scrunches up her face, sincerely perplexed by his very words like he was talking gibberish. "I drink blood from the source not a juice box." She states easily.
She then asks him if he was going to be a problem, studying him carefully as she does. "Perhaps you are, but if you trust me, no harm or authorities will bother you.."

"I am afraid... they will not.. they tend to not harbor the most forgiving nature when it comes to supernaturals.." That barking unamused laughter lingered in the air. Was he scared? How enthralling. He acted so big and tough and yet that question almost made him seem... helpless.

She moved forward, curious of this strange mortal. So much emotion rages within him, such a battle beneath his feeble skin. Fascination grips her as she questions that magic within his blood. "Warlock.. Your blood... it feels alive, crackling with energy that rivals your anger. I find it appealing.." she states merely as if she were just speaking a fact and nothing more. Oh, that seemed to do it again, as he snaps at her, denying her a taste of him like she couldn't just take it from him. A sigh escapes her then, how she missed that simpler time when she could merely just take what she wanted without a care in the world.

"As delicious as you might taste.. I will not taste you tonight. I have put you through enough for one night." She drew in his scent once more as if reluctant to simply let it go.

"I am afraid I can't just leave.. they will come for you if I don't...take care of them first.." But how, if that hunter had a disruption amulet that helped him see through her illusions. Peta is so very close to the warlock now, his scent a heady magical mixture as she hears the steady beating of his distracting heart.. "I just need to create a bigger distraction so they focus on that and forget about me.. Tell me Warlock.. what can you do?" She questions softly, poking him right square onto his well defined chest. Perhaps he could prove useful yet.

petra ambrose