He still felt those hands of his ball into fists from within the warmth of his jacket pockets as he thought back to that night. It had been bad enough that she'd managed to kick his ass at The Cat's Meow when he'd only been looking for a quiet night on the town while Elain was at some school function. All he'd wanted was to enjoy some loud music that would likely make him deaf one day, surrounded by the smell of cigarette smoke and hard liquor with barely dressed women dancing around on a stage to earn a little extra cash to take home. Had that been so much to ask for? Apparently it had been, though some might try to point out that the man with messy caramel-hued locks just barely visible beneath the hood of his jacket could have simply let those venomous words go. He could have ignored her when, looking back on that night she'd nearly been itching for some sort of fight for god knows what reason. Sure, he could have simply given be a smug grin, paid for his drink, and left the burlesque without so much as a second thought of the white-haired woman. There had been several opportunities where that night could have ended peacefully minus a couple snide remarks and sideways glares, but that wasn't how it happened. Instead, he'd earned himself a black eye, a cut to his cheekbone, and a nasty burn on his well defined chest that was still in the process for healing and more than likely going to leave a scar to remind him of that first encounter he'd had with that damn witch. If not for that element of surprise, she would not have been so lucky - or so Lazarus was stubbornly determined to believe. He refused to think that she could best him any other way than catching him offguard.

Walking through the lit streets of the city, he meanders nowhere in particular. The idea of home just didn't sound very appetizing tonight. He blamed her. That damn witch he'd had a run in with at the burlesque had somehow managed to also bump into his little sister at the local market, and of course Elain being well, Elain she'd warmly and all too happily invited the white-haired woman and bane of Lazarus' existence to dinner at their place. Of all the damn people that Ellie could have decided to bring home and feed like the increasing number of stray cats that whole gather at their doorstep for any scraps that the young woman might have for them, she had to find and bring home that witch. He can feel his jaw clench in fury as he remember how she'd grabbed his finger in front of the honey-blonde woman and again she'd managed to surprise him while that red mist settled over the dark hunter and he'd stumbled with her sudden jerk. That had only made her even more infuriating, especially when she decided to bat those dark lashes over brilliant blue eyes like she were completely and entirely innocent. Like hell, she was. There were no words to express just how badly he'd wanted to return that swing she'd dealt him at the burlesque or worse, but with Elain there he knew he wouldn't have the slightest chance. He was still determined to believe that the witch was somehow using his all too trusting little sister in some way, shape, or form. He just hadn't figured out how yet, but he'd be damned if he didn't get to the bottom of that wildly unlikely encounter and suddenly budding friendship that was beginning to grow like a weed in the man's metaphorical garden. He'd sat there in brooding silence while the women giggled and talked about random shit until the white-haired women had suddenly been compelled to leave. Dark forest eyes had followed her every step of the way towards the doorway, gaze narrowed fiercely onto that curvy frame of hers with all the suspicion in the world. After she'd left, Ellie had quickly texted the number that the witch had given her blatantly in front of Lazarus, and even when the man had insisted that she was being used in some sort of ploy, the young woman had simply scoffed and told him that he just needed to get over himself and his wounded pride to see that the older woman was a genuinely good being. Leave it to Elain to see the good in someone that Lazarus couldn't be more certain was hiding something that definitely shouldn't be hidden.

The boom of loud music greets the dark hunter's senses, dark forest eyes peering from beneath the shadows cast over chiseled and handsome features from the thick hood that rested over messy caramel hued locks yo find flashing neon lights. He'd found himself on the west side the city now it seemed, knowing just by a sweeping glance to the less maintained buildings that towered over the streets. Some of the shops and windows were boarded up, suggesting foreclosure likely due to the less than savory crowd he'd heard roamed this side of Sacrosanct. He was beginning to feel at home all over again on this side of town. Figuring that he'd placed enough distance between himself and the townhouse where Ellie was likely having dinner with her new bestie, he decided to push his way through the crowd to stand in line that formed outside the club. What were the odds that he would run into that witch here? Next to none, or so he thought. He'd run into at the burlesque on the east side of the city, Ellie had found her there wandering on those same streets, so the way his kind saw things, this was the exact opposite side of this big ass city. He had to be free and away from any possibility of running into her, right? He was finally free to be his own man, maybe try and see if he might be able to find a decent lay in a beautiful woman that had one too many strawberry daiquiris that would think him the best catch of the night. Ever since the death of their parents, Lazarus had taken on the role as guardian and he needed a break from everything. It wasn't like Elain wasn't capable of taking care of herself or anything, but what worried him was who she might try and befriend. Tonight though, he wouldn't be thinking of that as he drowned himself in some halfway descent liquor and, with extra luck, some pleasurable company.

Suddenly there is a voice that manages to somehow shatter that loose concentration of the man as he eyed a trio of blondes in tight dresses a small ways in line ahead of him. It was like cold water being flung onto him as he slept beneath his warm sheets. Before he even has time to turn around and see if his dread was right, desperately hoping he was just imagining things or something, a hand is reaching into his jacket pockets and yanking him out of line and nearly dragging him towards the front."What the f-", he begins to say at first. Then, those dark forest eyes narrowed in on brilliant blues that met him in the same nature, though there was something that was off about the absolute last woman he wanted to see tonight. Well fuck, there goes my night... She bats her eyes at the bouncer up front and just like that they're inside one of the busiest clubs on the west side. Like some mutt on a leash, she pulls him into the thick of the dance floor. What the hell is going on!?!. He is about to jerk her back and demand answers when they reach the center of the dance floor and she turns to him and shouts over the blaring music, guiding his hand to her waist and suspicious surprise flickers fleetingly across his features. That is, until when she swings her arm around his neck and the motion wafts the metallic scent of blood into his senses. Blood!?! Suddenly she is pressing her frame against his own and that masculine delight rises though it was quickly checked by the fact that something was clearly going on that she was failing to tell him. As they dance with bodies close to one another in a fashion that, had it been any other woman he would have found wolfish pleasure in, there was commotion somewhere behind her that distracts him and he doesn't notice his hand slipping on the wound she clearly needed him to apply pressure on so that she didn't bleed any more than she already had.

She snaps at him, and his dark forest eyes narrow onto her."I'm trying, dammit. What the fuck -", he snaps back at her fiercely though again he hears the exclamations of other couples that he misses her next string of words and when he's looking back to her to ask what the hell wad going on, the very last thing he would ever expect happens. Suddenly her bloodied hand pulls on his neck and plush lips meet his own. Dark forest eyes widen as he finds himself suddenly locking lips with her and for a second he almost forgets that this is the one woman on the entire world he hated and didn't trust for shit, but then there is a man pushing through the crowd that he is just barely able to see past her stark white hair and dark hood. Whoever this guy was, he was looking for someone and he certainly didn't look like he was just trying to find a friend in the sea of faces. Suddenly everything beings to make sense and he realizes that the man is getting closer, and fast. Dark forest eyes grow even darker now, a black haze clouding his gaze like an inky mist settling over each iris and suddenly the man only feet and several couples away falters. The man begins looking around him almost frantically now as he stops in his tracks for a moment before finally he retreats back towards the doors and exists the club. When he's gone and his scent is long faded from the club and it's proximity, that black mist dissolves and return the dark forest hues. Little did he know that his other hand that wasn't holding her wounded waist had reflexively moved to rest on her other hip as he held her close to him. He pulls his lips suddely away from hers - refusing to admit to himself that she was a damn good kisser - and is quick to release her. The danger was gone now, she could hold her own damn wound. His narrowed gaze pierces her own suspiciously now as they're standing there amidst the dancing bodies that resumed as though nothing had happened at all and there wasn't a bleeding witch in their midst."You're welcome. Mind telling me what the fuck just happened and why the hell you're bleeding?", he demands as deep tenor tones rise just above the loud bass that surrounded them. He wanted answers, and he wanted them now. If Ellie was in trouble because of this damn witch... well, he didn't even want to think about that right now or else he'd be liable to lose his temper here and now as it began to tattle those weak bars as it always seemed to around the white-haired woman.