She prattles on like some deluded little fool about a friend who lives near the street he has decided to use for his little ruse. Darcy content to continue to tug her along behind him and away from the lights and relative safety of the bistro. He hardly needed that cover of darkness and yet Mr Hero was bound to make things a little more difficult if given the chance and he caught sight of them. He would come back for that bartender later. Tim would pay for his disrespect tonight. Maybe he would bring the man back to Risque and allow her to share with him. Tim was hardly good looking enough to be a threat. Darcy so....uninclined to allow a certain type of man anywhere near his Mistress. Oh, how he loathed competition. Those possessive, territorial instincts so tending to snap and snarl far more readily near any man Risque might deem....attractive. Darcy very near infamous for prompting their disappearance. Such thoughts hardly linger for long however, not what that hunger all but burns at his throat and his meal lingers so close now. Raylin, in her seemingly eternally naive manner so helpfully offers those directions toward his 'sisters' house. If only she knew how long his sister had been dead. Darcy making use of that moment of distraction to strike.

His steps smoothly behind her, his arm wrapping about her waist in an ironclad hold that sees her pulled back agianst him and flush with the hard plans of his chest. Her scent was almost intoxicating. That blood that hummed and simmered just below the surface of her skin a heated beacon that so desperately desired to be released. To be spilled over his lips and teeth and tongue and down his throat. That rumbling growl that rises within his throat is hardly so much agressive as it is simple want of the blood in her veins. That predator so entirely in control now as that falsified vanner falls from him easily. That act tumbling away to leave nothing but the creature he was, that vampiric murderer, the Ghost of Gettysburg, that demonic hellion and all other things he had been called in his long life. His grip upon the young woman tightens as his fingers brush smoothly down her neck, revelling in the warmth her body provides him. The fabric off her shirt is pushed further aside to reveal the smooth slope of her shoulder as Rayling very near seems to lean into him. His lips replace his fingers then, sweeping with smooth precision along her silken flesh, the tip of his tongue searching for that vein beneath- until that moan leaves Raylins lips. A moan? She was enjoying this? Darcy paused. He could hear that thump off her heart and yet it hardly beat with that erratic, intoxicating sound of fear. No. Her heart was still far to even. She didn't fear him because she didn't understand. How very....amusing.

Those words easily fell from his lips then, a sweet southern drawl near uttered agianst her skin. That soft sound of acceptance parting Raylins lips once more as she attempts to turn within his arms, his grip far to firml to allow her and yet that near tantalizing offer lingers all the same. The woman seeming to desire something in return for her blood. How bold. Darcy so hardly immune to that very offer. Perhaps two desires could be met tonight and yet- the woman in his arms was not his lover. Not the one he craved. Not the woman whom eclipsed his thoughts with obsessive ferocity. A human woman so....incapable of meeting his needs. How easily her fragile figure would bend and break beneath him. How swift Risques vengeance would be upon them both in turn. Death for Raylin and that silver coated wall for him. Darcy so unwilling to risk his lovers displeasure with him when he so craved her attention and affection beyond all others. Tonight, Raylins blood alone would have to suffice.

That sudden shout all but eclipses that sweet silence. Darcy's mismatched gaze jerked upward at the sound of Tim striding around the corner then. How readily that anger rises within the vampire. Free of that mask of good little farm boy there is nothing to hide. A feral hiss spat from his lips. Darcy no longer fully a man but rather- a predator defending its prey. That possessiveness having firmly coiled its serpentine tendrils around Raylin now. The woman was his and how unwilling he was to share with this pathetic little speck of a human. Those sizeable teeth were bared briefly towards Tim in that clear warning before Raylins own voice interjected once more. The woman shouting that it was hardly as if he intended to eat her. Daft little thing she was. Such a shame too. So much attitude. She twists slightly within his arms then looking back up towards him- and for the first time he sees that fear dance within her eyes. He can hear it in her heart now. How intoxicating it was. The sight of him now, in that veritable vampiric glory so seeming to have, finally, triggered that fear. Her voice was uneasy this time as she insisted she should go back with Tim, his hold upon her hardly lessening.

Tim shouts again then, demanding he release his prize with the threat that the entire bar was just around the corner. Darcy's mismatched gaze narrowed readily then upon that man. His grip so loosening upon Raylin as she insisted Tim was just being dramatic and they should do this another time. His arm dropped easily from her waist to her hand then. Darcy holding her fingers lightly as he stepped out from behind her, tugging her gently to face him then with little attention paid to Tim at all. That very action in full view of the bartender all the same.

"It's been a pleasure, Darlin'. Yar da luckiest woman alive. You 'ave Tim ta t'ank for dat. Remember 'im."

Remember him. He smoothly lifted that hand he held upward then, pressing his lips gently to it in that age old gesture. His head dipped in that wholly Southern fashion before he released her entirely. Darcy pivoting with inhuman grace then, that burst of vampiric speed so seeing that distance between Tim and himself closed near instantly. The human man stumbling backwards in alarm. Darcy reached easily outward then to grasp his shirt, effortlessly lifting the man upward as his feet flailed frantically in search of the earth.
"I dun like you."

Those words were barely free of his lips before Tim was jerked forward and agianst him, Darcy's head dipping to seize the man by his throat- those wicked, doubled fangs puncturing through that skin like a knife through paper. Tim so barely afforded the chance to scream before that vampires head shook in as fashion near dog-like. Tim's throat torn out in that single, horrifically violent act that saw blood coat Darcy, Tim's body and the pavement beneath as it flowed like a fountain from that giant, gaping wound. How wonderfully hot that blood was. The taste all-consuming in that moment. His tongue swept across his lips to mop up that running red liquid. Darcy near forgetting Raylin entirely as he bites down on what remains of Tim's neck to feed again. That blood coating his own face, neck, chest and hands. Tim long since dead. Darcy long since caring for the mess he made.


d a r c y
and i'll stay alive, just to follow you home