It was no secret, the opinion that Harley had of the emerald eyed man. He knew well how she detested him. In fact, Harlequin made no secret of informing the world at large her thoughts in general. Tetradore, however, had undeniably changed since their last encounter. That resigned hopelessness with which he had once regarded the world had softened considerably, the Were-King had finally allowed himself to feel, to foster friendships and relationships only to be thrust back within that hell he had lived in for so long. He was far less well equipped now than he once was, the apology upon his lips was an indication of that very shift within his demeanor. His lips pressed in a hard line as Harley's biting retort, that very reminder of all that he had been free of caused those old memories to momentarily resurface. Tetradore had been left blissfully free of her more intimate advances since Risque's return and yet, it was unlikely to last for an eternity. He remained silent upon that front as he tossed her onto the sofa, hardly prepared for the woman's head to all but violently collide into his. That exclamation of pain seemed to prompt a smugness within the woman and yet, it seemed that even she hadn't escaped unscathed.

That blood that slid down the corner of her temple prompted a sigh on his lips. His head shook ever so slightly as Harley insisted that this was something for him to remember her by - as if the woman was somehow forgettable, to begin with. "I guess we don't always get what we want." He muttered, altogether aware of how true those words were for them both. At the very least, the pair had mastered this whole 'surviving' thing, for better or for worse. Tetradore's emerald eyes lingered upon the woman in that rare moment of silence before his fingers reached down towards her stomach in a small glimpse of inquisitiveness. He remembered well the mark he'd left on her. There was little doubt within his mind that, tonight, she might end up with another on her silken flesh. His fingers were so sweetly gentle as they brushed across her frame, even despite the way she seemed to squirm. How he hated that his very touch might prompt such a response within her - it was too familiar. It was too much. His head shook ever so slightly as she threatened to murder him for so much as caressing her flesh though, truly, he would have accepted such an opportunity for release with open arms. As it was, it was an option not open to him.

His gaze followed the young woman's amethyst irises towards the ball of fluff that so happily munched on his treats, tail still wiggling in his wake. Tetradore's announcement that he would see to it that the puppy was taken care of, however, seemed to prompt Harley's narrowed gaze. "Harley, I'm not a fucking gangster. Jesus. Who offs a puppy?" The man declared, his own heart not even that callous. Starvation, after all, was never a good way to go and that dog was far too...cute to allow to rot. He rolled his eyes and yet the Were-King nodded firmly. "He will live a long life filled with treats and more toys then he knows what to do with," Tetradore promised, hardly pausing before he reached down towards the girl, hefting her lighter figure over his shoulder. It hardly took long, however, before Tetradore was outside her door and into the coolness of the evening air. He strode purposefully towards the car, lest anyone else notice the pair as he thrust her into the back seat of the sleek black vehicle. He was, perhaps, not as gentle as he could have been, the man well aware of her glowering as he shut the door behind him, those child safety locks combined with his own rope bindings would guarantee she stayed where he had put her. Tetradore moved easily around the vehicle as Harley resituated, only to slide into the front seat of the vehicle. He turned the car on, adjusting the heating if only for his own dislike of the chilled air outside.

Tetradore glanced up at his rearview mirror as he put the vehicle in reverse, only to offer her a small shrug. "I'd say probably a six. As long as you don't piss her off too much, you'll probably make it through. You're too valuable of an asset to her." She was too useful - against Isolt and, to a lesser extent, against himself. She was a reminder of what he had done, the perfect wedge to be placed between himself and the demure redheaded vampire. No, Risque would not kill Harley. Not yet. Not until she had used her to dismantle everything she could. His thoughts were turned from such somberness by the woman's sudden request for music. Tetradore reached for the knob, turning up the heavy rock beat of that song with a simple flick of his wrist. There was little reason, after all, why they couldn't drown that anxiety within the steady beating of those drums. That car ride, unfortunately, was hardly as long as he suspected they both wanted it to be. The very sight of Syn's neon sign glowed in the darkness of the night as Tetradore navigated the vehicle to the rather discreet garage. He parked the car within the brightness of the garage, only to retrieve Harlequin from where he had tossed her in the back seat. "Try to behave yourself." He muttered as Tetradore cradled the woman in his arms, pushing past the garage door and in the depths of the dark back hallway of the dance club. The thud of the beat of the music outside still reverberated within the back halls.

Tetradore moved purposefully down the hallway towards that silver door at the end of the hallway. How he hated that oppressively thick door and all that stood behind it. A soft breath left Tetradore's lips as he was altogether careful in the way he positioned his back against the door, using the cloth of his shirt to push the door open. He was purposeful in the way he so strove to close himself off from those emotions the very moment his emerald eyes landed upon the tantalizing figure of his vampire mistress. His every step was purposeful as Tetradore strode towards her desk, only to deposit Harley directly upon that mahogany wood, regardless of the papers, pens, and laptop that sat there. It was, perhaps, not particularly nice for the human herself and yet it surely expressed to Risque his own irritation at being sent on such a task while fulfilling exactly what she had desired of him.