There was something almost satisfying in making that woman's heart lurch in her chest with the way he drove that car. In hearing it beat in frantically fluttering spurts. He could hardly deny that Harley was good at keeping that mask in place. In refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing that fear and yet- her heart was a wretchedly tratiours thing. Giving her away each and every time. There was something addictive in hearing those beats. In smelling each pulse of her blood as it hummed and simmered around her wretched body like an instrument he could play only to well. How unfortunate it was Risque seemed to want to keep this one. At least for now. He was sure he could convince her otherwise in time. He usually could. Darcy's mismatched gaze glanced briefly back toward the woman in the back seat- those irritating glasses still firmly in place. His command to take them off veritably snapped as his demeanor seemed to shift all over again into something less then tolerant once more. Harley, perhaps, saved from any further interrogation or repercussion for her comment by that song that came onto the radio. That sound irritating enough to divert his attention and see the vampire roughly shut it off before that car rolled smoothly into the HAUNT carpark to take one of the few remaining spaces.

Princess easily found her place within the pocket off his leather jacket. That lynx tucked away like a weapon. Harley commanded to follow like the pet she was as Darcy led the way across the lot and into that Saloon style bar that was just as cliche as he'd always remembered it. The smell of cigar smoke permeated the air, intermingling with that almost sour scent of whiskey and alcohol and countless forms of aftershave and sweat. Haunt was loathsome to that Southern vampire. A fabricated copy of a time and place and era it barely understood. A party of posers parading around like fools and yet- somehow it worked. Somehow they lured bussiness to this shit hole of a bar. Tourists, especially, seemed to find something almost kitsch about the place. Maybe it was the lowest rung amongst those big four bars in the city and yet- the fact it could count itself amongst them was proof enough it made enough money to be a problem. Their presence here had already been noticed. He could almost feel The eyes of those other vampires and yet he paid little heed for that moment. Darcy strolling past that wall decorated with cattle skulls, old ranching gear and a roping saddle with that lasso still hanging from the pommel.

The sudden shouts and hollers from further down that bar momentarily drew his attention. Those mismatched eyes slicing sideways to eye those women as that stepped up and onto the bar dressed in little more then crop tops and booty shorts with rhinestone boots and hats. The eyes of nearly every man in that room suddenly glued to those gyrating women as the song shifted to something more upbeat. The only ones not paying attention to those girls too fixated on their game of pool or trying to stay on that robotic rodeo bull in the far corner. Darcy appearing nothing other then apathetic to the entire scene. That snickering from Harley coaxing his gaze back to the bar just in time to see one girl stumble and fall. Tybalt would have her ass for that. She wouldn't fall a second time. If she escaped the men that were all but fawning over her. That soft snort of derision was the only sound the vampire offered that display. That command for Harley not to wander issued abruptly before he reached that bar, Darcy leaning his elbows on that polished wood surface. The vampire the picture of practised ease as the bartender readily scowled. His kind wasn't welcome here eh? How unfortunate that was. He could near feel that territorialism rising within the var tender even from here. Several more vampires shifting in that crowd. Those who were here just to drink would hardly be a problem. Tybalt's boys however were likely was as gunning for that fight as he was himself. Yet- the cleaner this was the easier it would be in the end. Darcy maintaining that patience now.

One eye slide sideways as harley made herself comfortable on the bar only to pilfer someones beer. Darcy seeing little need to prevent her from testing out that merchandise as the sound of those approaching cowboys saw him turn his head to face them. One reaching out to grasp Harleys arm. The little wretch still hanging onto her beer. Admirable effort, he supposed. His words slicing through the air then. Prompting both Tybalt's boys to hesitate before releasing Harley's arm in the least. The little woman spitting her venom in a fashion he'd become almost accustomed to. She was almost amusing really. A little toy to be wound up and let go. Neither of those cowboys seeming to agree and yet his presence along seemed to prompt them not to press further as he trailed after them through that bar and down that side corridor to Tybalt's own office. Harley all but shoved through as Darcy followed That door closed behind them. How little Tybalt had changed over the years. The man still dressed in that same hat and boots with spurs he always was. Those smoke rings from his cigar billowing in rings from lips as he leant back in his chair, his feet resting up upon that desk.

If Tybalt wanted to play that gentlemanly dance then let him. Darcy entirely content to meet him at his own game as he settled himself into that seat opposite. That large wooden desk between them now. Darcy content to play that role of every patient predator now. That usual, violent energy restrained, pulled back to simmer below the surface in a rare display off...business skill. After all, Risque hardly kept him for her penchant for violence alone. That man surprisingly capable of controlling himself when he chose. The pair of vampires near exchanging those light blows of sorts before that mention of 'partner' prompted his own ire. Those words veritable snapped towards Tybalt then. How little tolerance Darcy had for posers. Tybalt seeming to take little pleasure in being called out. The other vampire quick to change that subject then with the insistence he had a deal to offer them both. Darcy's fingers began that steady, slow drum upon the arm of the chair. His patience for this game beginning to waver. He had offered Tybalt terms- he could accept them or not. Counter-offers were so rarely considered. His hand gesturing for the man to go on all the same. Perhaps the fucking deluded fool might impress him yet. Doubtful though he was.

Those mismatched eyes continued to linger upon the other vampire as he rose from that desk then to circle around Harley. That low growl that echoed within the WereFelines throat an oddly pleasant sound and one he knew Tybalt had heard in turn. How he could hardly help but wonder if harley was brutal enough, violent enough, strong enough to tear into Tybalt if commanded to do so. Did she have the spine to back up that growl or was she too merely a poser? Time would tell. The cowboy vampire moved to lean agianst the back off his chair then. The sheer proximity of the other man pressing upon his nerves, his head jerking away as tybalt's fingers toyed with that silver-coloured chain around his neck. That rumbling growl in his throat the only indication he gave of that rising displeasure. How thing the ice this man was walking on. How precariously unbalanced he was becoming. Darcy allowing his tongue to toy with his right fang in a fashion almost contemplative of Tybalt's offered deal. Yet how those very serpents of his mind were readily beginning to slither coiling smoothly and silently around Tybalt- he only needed to be coaxed a little further. Darcy offering that utterance he couldn't afford him. Tybalt countering with that insistence he had new financial backing. How very....curious that information was. It was Harley however, who his attention fell to then.

The woman strode around that desk then, placing it between herself and them as Tybalt righted himself once more, eyeing her almost curiously. Darcy's own silent command for her silence it seemed, destined to go ignored and yet, for now, he merely allowed that little verbal tirade if only because it was rather....pleasing. He could near hear that audible grind of Tybalt's fangs. The Cowboy's temper beginning to rise in turn. Harley was nothing if not potent, it seemed, when allowed to run her little mouth. The woman's words almost a compliment to himself. Her tirade completed with that insistence that beer sucked. Darcy, this time, allowing that bark of laughter to leave him as Tybalt all but rounded on the girl. I'll beat your ass woman if you don't shut the hell up. Risque isn't gonna flay me, she's all talk and not bite, she just a right bitch with permanent p.m.s and I-

"I'll do yar deal, Tybalt."

Tybalt paused near mid-sentence. That disbelief on his own face clear as he turned toward Darcy once more.

What?
"I said, I'll do yar deal. I'll work for ya and Arley will to. I got conditions 'ough."
I'm listening.
" Arley, belongs ta me, you ain't get 'er and non of yar boys get 'er either. I ain't doin' no dancin' shit either and I wanna see da contract, yar got one right? And da pen?"
Done and hold on a moment. Ray, bring that contract in here would you and a pen for Mr Blackjack.

That door swung open then. One of those Cowboys from before striding in with that piece of paper and a pen in hand to place them on the desk, Darcy sliding forward in his chair then to look over that contract. That mismatched gaze glancing briefly upward toward Harley before that ever so fleeting simper seemed to find his lips. His tongue continuing to toy with his right fang as his gaze returned to that contract. That number listed in the payment section decidedly large. Larger then what Risque paid him now. Haunt didn't make that kind of money. Either that contract was an outright lie or there really was a financial backer. One that was throwing money at Haunt.

"Whose yar backer?"
I'll tell you everything you want to know as soon as you finish singing it. I always liked you Darcy. I always knew you were smarter than the rest of them. The boys and I always wondered why you let Risque lead when you could have branched out on your own years ago.
"I got a question 'bout dis bit."

His finger pointed to a single clause on that piece of paper. Tybalt gesturing for Ray to step forward and look. Darcy gripping that pen in his hand more firmly then as Ray lent over to examine that paperwork. Darcy stood in a single, smooth motion, his free hand abruptly seizing a fistful of the hair on the back of Ray's had only to slam that vampires head and face down onto that very pen with horrific, brutal force- impaling the man upon it before wrenching him backwards. The blood flowing from that hole in his face run as freely as those screams. Darcy's gaze staring apathetically at the vampire in his hand before those near dead eyes lazily meet Tybalt's own.

"I forgot how ta spell me name. Let's see now, I reckon it's a D A R C Y."

Every single letter he uttered was punctuated by the slam of that vampire's head down onto that impaling pen once more. Darcy wrenching him back up only to slam him down again every time. Darcy allowing that pen to remain impaled upon that last letter as he lifted that vampires head a final time- his face an utter, bloodied ruin with that pen protruding from it now. Darcy released his hold upon him. Ray tumbling into an unconscious heap on the ground at his feet as Darcy moved to pluck that unsigned and thoroughly bloodied contract from the equally blood splattered desk only to hold it back toward Tybalt now. That almost wicked grin edging its way across his lips then. Those violent fangs exposed with the gesture.

"Reckon I need a new one. Dis one's got somethin' on it."
You rat bastard!

Tybalt's fist slammed onto that desk then. His eyes shifting wildly from his fallen man, to Darcy and back again. Darcy wholly content to watch with blatant, cold apathy.


"Yar couldn't even pay me to join dis shit 'eap of a bar."
Is it because I won't fuck you like your current boss does? You don't mean shit to her. Your just a prized pet you deluded son of a bitch.
"Dem's fightin' words."
Them's fighting words!? You just punctured 5 goddamn holes in me boy's head ya daft lunatic
"Bite me."

Those final words were very near hissed between Darcy's fangs. Tybalt more than ready to answer that challenge as his own hiss spat from from his lips. Both vampires lunging for one another in the same moment. A terrific, violent vampiric burst of speed saw both vampires collide with one another mid-air. That bone-shattering collision echoing like a thunder crack before Tybalt was launched into the nearest wall, cracking those very bricks with the assault. Darcy landing atop the desk, his nails digging into that wood to prevent him sliding any further. His tall, toned figure crouched and poised like a cat itself. That growl in this throat suddenly cut off, that contorted look of rage on his features cut off as his head suddenly jerked toward Harley.

"Arley! Look through dem desk draws, look for papers from da bank. Money transfers. Day'll be in 'dere for sure. I'll keep dis one busy. Get dem papers and get back to da car."

That order was no sooner barked then Tybalt detangled himself from that wall, the larger heavier man reaching for the nearest chair before lifting it effortlessly to slam it into that grown. That wooden leg broken off to form a stake. Im going to fucking end you, Blackjack and her and then im going for your precious Risque. Those two vampires collided a second time. Darcy knocked clean off that desk with Tybalt atop him to crash onto the ground below. Darcy dodged the first of the blows from that stake, his head near snaking to allow him to bite into Tybalt's other arm. Those wicked fangs seeing him hang on like a pitbull as Tybalt howled and attempted to slam Darcy into the ground in an effort to force him to release his hold. Tybalt plunging that stake down and into Darcy's left shoulder, the tip glancing off the bone and yet that yelp of pain was enough to force him to release his hold on Tybalt's arm all the same. Tybalt was quick to make use of that newly freed arm, blooded and torn to the tendons as it was, that hand seizing Darcy's throat with choking force You got any last words your miserable little weasel.

"Aidêr."
What is that? French? What the hell are you...

That movement from within Darcy's jacket so readily drew Tybalt's attention downward. That look of confused horror so barely managing to find its way onto the mans face before that Lynx kitten burst from within that jacket to attach itself in feline fury to Tybalt's face. That cowboy releasing darcy immediately as he scrambled backwards, frantically attempting to remove the cat from his face. Darcy taking that opportunity roll to his feet once more and lunge at Tybalt again. The trio, this time, sent crashing through that office door as it exploded in a hail of wooden shards. That music from outside pouring into that office now. It's time to begin let's count it in 5 6 7 8! My boot scootin baby is drivin me crazy. My obsession from a Western, my dance floor date. My Rodeo Romeo, a cowboy god from head to toe.... The growling roars of those fighting vampires punctuated through those lyrics, hysterical screams rising up from the crowd then as that bar was plunged into chaos. The majority of those patrons frantically rushing for the door as Tybalt's own vampires rushed in. Three of those vampire dancing girls heading for the office. Darcy managed to detangle himself from Tybalt long enough to wrestle one gun free. That gunshot echoing throughout that bar and only enhancing those screams as one of those dancing girls dropped to the floor in a splatter of blood. In the very least, Harley now only had to deal with two of them instead of three and if she died, well, then she wasn't worth it in the first place. Darcy watching only long enough to see one of those girl remove her heels with every intention of using them as a weapon before lunging into that office to take out Harley. She better not get herself fucking killed....


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