There is a momentary pause between the rapping off his knuckles on that silver-lined door and those melodious lyrics that so bid him entrance to his mistresses office. Darcy, unlike most, all-too willing to step within the confines off that very room as the door was closed behind him once more. That sweating mess of a warlock left outside to further contemplate his own fate. He can feel her gaze upon him even before the pale blue off her eyes meet his own- yet how he welcomes it. Risque, tonight, seeming to take note off his well-dressed figure and that effort he had gone to for her alone. Her lingering gaze a simple validation that, somewhere within the depths off his twisted mind, so reassured him off her affections for him.

Her gaze settled at last upon the box that dangled by its red and black ribbon from his fingertips. Gifts so eternally seemed to please her. At least- when they were of the right kind. Darcy rarely inclined to present her with anything distasteful. His indiscretion in missing not one, but two, nights of work was decidedly small and yet he had survived near two centuries at her side by never allowing himself to fall far from her favour and so mending those scratches to the varnish off his good name, slight as they may be, before they could turn into something she deemed punishable. For all those things Darcy Blackjack might be- a fool was not one of them. He by far the most practiced of all her 'employees' in navigating her moods and whims. Yet by equal measure, he was perhaps the only being within that vast compound whose actions came, mostly, not from fear, but rather, from his utter adoration off her. Those words she offered him however were near double-edged in their delivery, a part of him readily gloating in the satisfaction of that compliment and yet the sheer mention of Tetradores name, as always, so prompted the vampire to near bristle. The corner off his lip twitching upward and yet for now at least, his features remain impassive all the same. Outbursts were unfavourable after all.

"Naaaw, he'll 'ave ta try a damn sight 'arder den dat. He wouldn't 'ave even gotten dis close if it hadn't been for is boyfriend helping him out. He's stronger though, den he used ta be. Tetradore and Tobias both."

How much Tetradore had nearly cost him with his fucking little joy ride to the middle of nowhere! Tobias, in equal measure, having proven to be a disobedient little wretch. That Darcy had managed to fight off not one, but two, fully grown male big cats was an achievement in itself and yet even he had given consideration to just how close he had come to losing his head to that acidic poison. His loathing for Tetradore only further increased by that very incident. To have Risque doubt his own power, to have her believe Tetradore had nearly bested him would not do. That internal seething, for now, remaining concealed behind that calm facade as he strode forward to place that very offering upon her desk. That box moved off its own accord. Her intrigue firmly captured, or so it would seem, as her eyes roved from himself to that box. A singular, sharpened nail so cut through that very ribbon. Darcy's own mismatched gaze watching her near liquid motions with a clear intrigue and vaguely concealed desire before she lifted that lid to reveal those two clouded leopard kits he had procured for her. She was silent in her examination. Lifting first one and then the other to be inspected before placing them upon the table. The little creatures taking up their own game atop the polished surface. Darcy already aware that gift had been well accepted before she stood and- with a liquid, sensual grace- so made her way towards him. How he welcomed her closeness and those rarely uttered words of praise! As if they alone were a decided gift to be revelled in. Her insistence the others should learn from him only furthered that satisfaction within himself, his lip quirking but slightly once more in that simple display of the pleasure he took from her attention upon him.

His gaze lingered eagerly upon each sensual curve off her figure, those very lines highlighted by that outfit that clung hungrily to her frame and so further accentuated her near supreme grace as she circled about him. Risque every inch the predator in that moment. How attractive it was, how tempting, her body a veritable siren to his own desires. Her sensuous form pressed suddenly against him then. Darcy attuned to nothing save her figure in that moment and that utter want that stirred within him. It had been several weeks since she had last invited him into her bed to allow him to satisfy her in just that fashion he adored most. He had so hardly been celibate in those weeks in between and yet all other women paled in comparison. They were meaningless. The meeting of a need and nothing more. Sex with any save Risque herself satisfied those physical urges and yet so little else. Surely she felt the same way, didn't she? Those thoughts so hardly had time to blossom within his mind as her fingers danced against his skin, pushing away the jacket and collar off his shirt to inspect that wound that had all but fascinated her. By tomorrow even those scars would be gone- leaving his flesh pristine yet again.

Her hand pressed against his head, pushing it aside, demanding the vulnerability of his neck so exposed- Darcy obedient in his acceptance of the position even despite that ever so faint twinge that angle brought on. Her simple touch, caressing his flesh, prompted that slight hitch to his breath, his skin rising beneath her touch as her fingers roved his sensitive neck. The vampire near trained to respond to her body, her presence, her touch- and oh how quickly he did. That want coursing all too potently through him once more before her near cooing words, whisper soft in their questioning, prompted that response from him. Darcy aiming to satisfy her curiosity if only because he knew it pleased her to have answers.

"I couldn't hunt for a few nights, but what ya gave me and what da bar had ta spare at da end of da night was enough. Every time dat flesh healed an grew back dat acid burned some of it again. Worked out how ta get rid of it though. Water. Water makes it weaker. I sat in me shower, kept dat water on it, dat acid couldn't burn and me healing was to strong for it den. Dem scars be gone by tomorrow."

He could near feel her breath against his neck, over those scars, drawing closer. What he wouldn't give to her feel her lips on him. His hand lifted to dare to brush against her hip and rest at her waist with every intention of seeing if she might be coaxed into blessing him with more off her- only for the voice of that warlock to all but shatter any chance of that. His reaction was near instantaneous and nothing short of utterly violent as Risque stepped away from him. Darcy rounded to face that closed door, his lips pulled back from his fangs as that feral snarl so interwoven with a hiss was all but spat from him. That sound vibrating through the walls itself- loud enough to shock that warlock into silence once more. How utterly....dangerous he was when close to that woman he adored. Darcy highly prone to that volatility, aggression and near shocking territorialism when so allowed to get away with it. That very reaction purely animalistic and raw. His mind converted to fixate upon that warlock alone, the warlock whom had cost him her attention. Risques voice seemed to permeate that sudden red haze as his gaze cut back towards her. Darcy quick to regather that control as his lip dropped back over his fangs, that short, sharp exhale pushing with it that flare of aggression even if it continued to twist within him.

Her lamp? His own mismatched gaze shifted to that space within the room he knew that lamp usually sat- only to note its vacancy. His mistress insisting it had been stolen from right beneath her nose with no sign as to what or who. That was a....bold crime. Though why anyone would steal a goddamn fucking lamp he hardly knew. That room had no windows. The silver door the single and only point of entry and exit, let alone the task of reaching the office at all within the maze of corridors of that fortress. So much effort- for a fucking lamp? To query whether that lamp had been valuable was foolish, it hardly mattered. She had been stolen from. That alone the true significance of the matter. His own irritation turning within him. They were not stolen from. Not ever. Risque would fixate upon this and he in turn would receive less off her attention. His motives perhaps self-serving in this and yet the sooner that goddamn thief was caught the sooner order would restore.

"I'll find out who was patrolin' that night. An I'll see to da security as it please ya."

His evening, it seemed, was now destined to be filled with investigating this very crime. Darcy's gaze cut sideways once more as that reeking Warlock stumbled into the office. The vampires features creasing notably with distaste at that smell. A faint rumble of a growl rose within his throat once more. His temper minded for now. If he murdered the warlock to soon Risque would be...displeased. He moved instead to seat himself in that 'guest' chair upon the other side of Risque's desk, his gaze content to follow the warlock as Risque informed him off her desires and that theft. His own mind once more considering those possibilities as the Warlock begun to work. Just what the little man was doing he hardly knew. Searching for some sort of magical signature perhaps. Those minutes dragging on. This- was boring. The Warlock dutifully moved about that room. Darcy content to consider the viability of cameras within the office. That time continuing to drag all the more. The vampires mismatched, predatory gaze rarely leaving that other man. He knew readily he was making him uncomfortable and yet a part of him near relished in that. The warlock so finally halted in his work to declare he had several theories before looking expectantly toward both vampires. Darcy's patience failing him once more.

"Well? Speak man!"

The world was full of fucking imbeciles. Those all but barked words seemed to prompt that sweating all over again as he begun to stumble out those words. "Well, the thief was...d...definitely not another...warlock or witch....that I know for sure. There is no magical signature at all. Either the....the...er...perpetrator was human and in possession of a concealment item- and that is why there is no smell and Miss Risque felt no supernatural presence, few supernaturals....in the world would be....capable of this...or the lamp itself was enchanted and fled" Darcy's own gaze readily narrowed at those words, his lips parting slightly as his tongue toyed with the double tips of his right fang, his words near darkly quiet then.

"Are ya telling me that me Mistresses Lamp acted disloyally and fled its post? Are ya accusing the lamp of being a deserter?"

How fucking stupid did this Warlock think they were? The lamp walked out on its own? Darcy's disbelief in that very statement layered within that darkly sarcastic questioning before he fell silent. His gaze shifted to his Mistress then to hear her own decision on the matter.


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