"Perhaps it's a good thing I have claws," she croons at him with that feral grin. She finds herself drawn to him in way that she wants to push his buttons, see how far she can toe that line before he actually does something about it. Vhalla finds herself believing that this man will not do any lasting harm, or course she had been wrong before. The assassin can't help herself as she peers up at him, noting the structure of his face as that grin complements his features nicely. When he dismisses her skills Vhal simply refuses to comment on it. Perhaps if she let it slide it would be easier to catch him unawares later on. So she remains silent, offering a curl of her mouth.

Then he's moving faster than even her trained eyes can follow and she has a sinking feeling when he snags her wrist in his hand. She can feel him wrap his hands around her arm, squeezing those pressure points and though she feels hardly any pain, merely a dull ache, she still clutches to that blade longer than she thought possible before it clatters to the ground. Glancing down as he shoves it out of her reach she juts out her bottom lip, "Clever boy, but that's no way to treat a weapon. There's some women who have a favorite pair of shoes, or a bag or panties, that happens to be my favorite dagger," she arches a brow at him letting the corner of her mouth curl into an almost seductive smile.

"You seem to be quite gentlemanly, perhaps you'll polish it for me before the night is over," she can't help but egg the dark haired man on. Feeling the tip of the dagger move lower she lowers her ice blue eyes to follow it until it's positioned just above her heart. Now, she takes in the details. The way he spoke put him much older than her though he looked about her age if not just slightly older, he carried himself in a way that had disappeared from the world an age ago and she can't help but notice the coat of arms etched into the side of his own dagger.

Letting her eyes linger on it for a moment, she recognizes the symbols as it reawakens a memory from years ago in the back of her mind. Her master tended to be quite the history fanatic, forcing her to learn old family names, hierarchies, coat of arms, the origins of supernaturals and so on and so forth. Fortunately, it had managed to help her quite a bit recently between recognizing Dorian's family name and now this stranger's crest.

Letting her gaze wander back to his sculpted face, she smirks at him as she can feel the blood already drying on her neck, "No first base? You're going straight for second I see," she laughs darkly, gesturing towards the knife positioned between her nicely curved breasts. "You don't seem like the kind of man who should be running from others," she comments critically. It was true, Vhalla had a difficult time picturing this man running from others. When he speaks again she can feel his warm breath caress her cheek in the cool evening and for a moment, unintentionally, her eyes drop to the curve of his lips, briefly wondering what it would be like to touch them.

Dragging her gaze back to his eyes, she flashes a dangerous smile, "Unfortunately, I am doing my master's bidding this evening and am not allowed to speak of any details," she sighs dramatically before continuing, "but yes, I was watching a few humans, you just happened to be in the line of fire," she shrugs at him unapologetically. Without giving him a chance to reply, she slams a hand down onto his arm, successfully dragging the dagger away from her body except leaving a small slit in its wake revealing skin and a small amount of blood oozing from the shallow wound. Snapping her left arm out, she reveals a blade attached to her suit protruding from her forearm as she ducks under his arm and promptly switches places with him.

With his back to the wall now and her own dagger poised at his chest, she doesn't fool herself that she's won by any means. She would not be able to overpower him, nor would she be able to wrench his dagger from his grip so instead she bats her long lashes at him, her white braid falling over her shoulder as she gazes up at him with those pretty blue eyes. Clucking her tongue like a disappointed mutter she comments, "Ah, Mr. Cavendish you've ruined my suit. Perhaps you'll be so kind to buy me a knew one? Or I suppose you could repair it yourself? Although, I currently have no extra clothing on me at the moment" she suggests boldly with a wink as she counts down the seconds before she's overpowered again by him.