Misery Loves Company //Ashton//

[Keara Sonnet]

Der Keller was so overly busy tonight, it was ridiculous. It was the night of a full moon and the werewolves were definitely showing it. All of the wolves who maintained control of their condition were out celebrating the night of bliss they all so enjoyed. At least, the ones who found the werewolf gene to be a gift, not a curse. Vampires tended to stay away from the club during this time in case a werewolf decided they wanted to take the night a little farther than drinks and girls. Despite Der Keller being a safe haven from these incidents, they still didn’t completely trust the safeguards put into place. Keara didn’t quite blame them but she had been one of the one’s to help put in these safeguards so she knew well enough that they were protected from accidental death by a werewolf bite. That was why she was working her ass off tonight to keep the club going at the speed of its customers. Luckily, her speed was good enough to keep up, as was most of the staff. The best thing about running a club tailored to vampires and werewolves where they were the only one’s allowed in? They were also the only ones allowed as staff. Business moved at a quick pace when the staff was able to do the same.

Unfortunately, one of the people that worked the fastest at this place was missing in action tonight. Centara was, no doubt, hanging out at the Zealon Estate, working on some elaborate plan to take down the Ministry and Dark Lord at the same time. Keara didn’t know how she was managing the planning but she didn’t care. She didn’t want to know a single detail because she didn’t care. It wasn’t her war to fight and she made sure to stay away from it. She wished it wouldn’t keep cutting into the work time Cen put into the club. After all, she was the one to establish Der Keller and bring it to its current glory with her very persuasive business skills. Why did she get to miss out on all the full moon drama that she knew was coming? Keara always managed to put the club ahead of everything else, why couldn’t she? It was frustrating, but there was absolutely no time for her to struggle with the thought of how to get the additional set of hands in the club when there was no way she was going to give up what she was doing tonight. So, instead, Keara kept working. She would keep the customers happy and she would try to keep her own head on straight in the process. The benefit? If she could make it one more week, it was going to be one of Tristan’s rare few days off meaning she would be able to finally spend time with him. Granted, most of it was going to be spent at the gala but that didn’t matter. It was time with him she didn’t get often and she was going to enjoy it which was the exact reason she had pushed him so hard into going.

The thought of the day to come only made her bus the table she was working on a bit quicker. Though she was co-owner of the club, she played a part in every piece of the puzzle. She even did the boring, meaningless tasks mostly because it brought her closer to those who were in the club. They all knew her by reputation of being a pretty damn good vampire, but they also knew her for being a rather sweet one as well. Her kind demeanor overweighed her vampire abilities, mostly because even though she was good, she was not great. She admitted that about herself because, let’s face it, how could a vampire who was only ninety years old be that good? There were so many that were so much better. She wasn’t the low man on the totem pole but she only made it about three quarters of the way up. The only thing that helped her compete against those her same age? She was born a vampire. There was a difference in her abilities compared to others who had been a vampire for ninety years. How she was difference, she never would know, but she always seemed to outrun others, have more strength then others, and out kill others who were her own age. Why was not really important to her. “Ninety…” she muttered to herself, shaking her head. Her birthday had just passed two months ago and it was already too much to bear. Nine decades she had been alive. Nine decades to do things others wouldn’t dream and yet she still felt like her life was missing something. That something she had yet to figure out though. All she knew was other vampires always looked so damn pleased with themselves. What did their lives have that hers was missing?

”VIP lounges are emptied out, Ms. Sonnet.” Keara turned around to see a lanky male vampire standing behind her. He was dressed in all black. Standing next to her in her blood red cocktail dress and black pumps, he looked a little drab but she wasn’t one to judge. “Thanks Alex. And seriously, Keara. How many times do I have to say that? We’re at a club, not a law firm,” she reminded him, raising her eyebrows in a ‘got it now?’ motion before grabbing the glasses she had stacked on the table. She put them in her hands and waved him back behind the bar where he belonged for the night. He was a rather new hire, also a rather new vampire but despite his appearance, he was in it for the thrill. He had gotten turned by a vampire who apparently cared. He had been dying of cancer and the vampire supposedly saved him by throwing him into this cursed lifestyle. So far he had been taking it rather well and was attempting to keep himself in check rather than feeding off of every human in sight. She was proud of him for not taking to the stereotype vampires were so often given. Keara oh so hated when people assumed every vampire was out to kill every human they came in to contact with. Those who acted that way were not vampires in Keara’s book. They were murderers. She had heard others call them rippers and, on some occasions, she found herself thinking the same thing but not for the same reason. Not because they ripped out the throat of their victims on most occasions, but because they ripped away any chance of life they may have had. It disgusted her to think there were vampires out there like that but, with the curse, who knew what anyone was capable of.

As he traipsed off to the bar, Keara grabbed the towel that was on the table and made her way back to the VIP lounges. They were scheduled to be empty for the rest of the night, mostly because it was one of two areas where no one could be heard screaming due to the silencing spells. On the nights of the full moons and blood moon, these rooms were closed off to avoid unwanted injuries. The conference rooms were the other one’s shut off due to the same reason. There was no telling what werewolves would do to people in these rooms on the full moon if no one were to hear them. The same went with vampires on the blood moon. Although, the vampire thing was a whole different scenario. One reason she never sired anyone was because of the bond that formed. If she were to sire the wrong person and their family found out, they would be after her in a heartbeat so they could kill her before the blood moon. Though it didn’t bring back their family member to the living, it did kill off all offspring sired between the blood moon cycles. Vengeance was always such a strong emotion and she had no interest in being on that side of the story. Instead, she stuck to killing her food. There was no point in bringing more vampires to the world when there were already so many compared to the number of humans. The ratio was getting far too outweighed in her opinion.

The velvet ropes were already drawn to keep people out so she slipped right underneath and opened up the first lounge. She had taken the responsibility of cleaning these rooms tonight, just because it got her away from the noisiest part of the club. She never shut the doors behind her so she could still hear what was going on outside, just in case a fight broke out or there was something needing her immediate attention. But even so, being in the room gave her time to actually think again. Sometimes the music was just so loud for this new crowd, who enjoyed it being up so loud the room shook, that she couldn’t hear herself think anymore. Tonight was one of those nights. The club was filled with young vampires and werewolves in their early 20’s, or at least those who acted like it, so the music was cranked up pretty high. Even as she stepped into the first room, she noticed the music really wasn’t going to die down too much. She was still going to have a rough time thinking but at least it was somewhat of a reprieve.

Looking around the room, Keara sighed. This one was rather bad. She turned to the wall where a list of guests was printed on parchment just above the light switch. Her finger ran down the time slots until it came across the most recent group to leave before they closed down the lounge. It had been a group of teenage vampires. Great. There was no telling what they had left behind. They always seemed to be the most uncaring creatures too. For some reason, they always thought they were better than everyone. At least the werewolves were kind about it, mostly because they suffered for their gift every full moon for the first year. The vampires had a craving which had a quick fix. They never really had to deal with the struggles of a werewolf but as they began to age, they would realize the difference between being newly sired and being an aged vampire. So many things changed when one’s eyes were opened to the reality of life. Deciding there was no reason for her to just stand here and be upset about the carelessness of the people who had rented the room, Keara began to make quick work of the room. First thing was resorting the mini-bar so it was easy to be restocked the next day. Then she went to cleaning up all of the dishware that would need to be sent to the kitchen, placing it in a tub she had pulled out from underneath the mini-bar. Then came the hard part, actually cleaning the furniture. Since magic wasn’t on her side, she always did everything by hand which, though it made it more difficult, always turned out to have a better sparkle. “Time to get to work,” she muttered as she pulled out a rag and began with the table.

It took her a good ten minutes of fast paced cleaning to get the last bit of blood out of the couch. It wouldn’t have been so hard if she wasn’t a vampire, but being able to smell the blood meant she had found every little spot and had to get them out before she was satisfied. It didn’t help that the entire time she was cleaning, the music was pounding in her ears, deep into her skull. She couldn’t help but feel that they had turned it up just to annoy her. At one point, she was tempted to close the door but she kept herself from doing it, only because she knew they might need her help at some point. Once she was done cleaning, she picked up the bin of dishes to be cleaned and flipped off the lights. As she stepped out of the room, the music got substantially louder, as if the silencing spell in the room had actually been working slightly. Sighing, she propped the bin up on her hip as she shut the room behind her, moving to the second one. Before moving in, she set the bin down on the ground and moved back out to the main club floor and over behind the bar where Alex was standing. “Look, the music is killing me so I’m gonna shut the doors while I clean. If something happens, come get me.” She didn’t even wait for a confirmation from him before making her way back to the lounges. Pushing her straightened locks from her face, she picked up the bin of dishes and placed them against her hip again while she opened the door and slipped inside, and shut the door behind her, not even turning on the lights for a moment as she decided to take a moment for herself, placing her head against the door. “This is going to be a long night,” she muttered, moving her free hand to the light switch so she could see the damage that was waiting for her.

[Ashton Wentworth]

Tonight marked the first time that he had allowed himself to be separated from Kaydence in about a month. With the Gala coming up so quickly, and Kaydence retreating within her self more and more, Ashton was just about at his wits end. The owl from Rutherford couldn't have come at a better time really. It wasn't that Kaydence was a burden, farthest from it in fact but he just needed to...hurt something. Warren had agreed that he could come and stay with her for the night, watch movies or something else uneventful so that Ashton could get some work done. It turned out that there just s happened to be a small, younger coven that had been spotted hanging out at one of Drear Alley's more popular nightclubs. Sure, everybody knew what really happened behind the constantly closed doors of this club. No humans were allowed in, ever, but Rutherford had something new to try out, and it had to be Ashton, and it had to be tonight. Something that was supposed to mask his smell, keep him from being detected as a human, something to hide his heartbeat. Keep them from noticing who he was. Since Ashton was currently still so important to the ministry they didn't want to risk him walking into something that he wouldn't be able to walk out of. Armed as ever with his trusty two vials, tucked neatly into his pockets he had accepted the spray. It was a simple thing, like a small bottle of some expensive perfume. Something that he would have seen on a rich woman's vanity table. The bottle was a deep red, with a spray nozzle on top. Ashton had tried to convince himself that this was going to be good for him, that he needed a night away and since that particular outing promised violence, it should have been the perfect thing for him. Ashton loved his job, not the desk part or the part where he had to fill out forms. Most certainly not the part where he was forced to share an office with somebody that he had sworn to hate for the rest of his life, but his actual job. The field work, where he got to go out and do things he never could have dreamed of five years ago. Thrill chasers had nothing on him, they had no idea what a real rush is. Like the one that comes from literally running for your life. He loved his job. He was damn good at it.

If Ashton were ever to be turned, he supposed that a werewolf would have been better than vampire, at least then he wouldn't be dead. He would inject himself. Straight silver, directly into his heart. He had seen better than just about any other human that he had ever heard of what sort of animals these monstrosities could become. The other parts of his job, the mainly human variations of creatures, those were fine. Sure, he wouldn't want to be one, but he didn't mind being around them. Rosalyn was perfectly acceptable on mot days, even if she was a little louder than he would have chosen for his company. Those that were going to be his company tonight, he couldn't stand. He had left the house after putting on what he felt would fit in the best, they all wore normal clothing as far as he could tell. Putting on his darkest, least torn pair of jeans paired with his normal boots, t-shirt, and brown leather jacket he had headed into the office to pick up his supplies, and then headed straight down to the club. It was a decent walk, given how Der Keller was almost outside of Drear Alley completely, but it wasn't a miserable walk. He had downed the potion that Rutherford had given him earlier during their meeting. It tasted like soot and multivitamins but he didn't care so long as it did it's job. The whole purpose was that he would be masked. That he would appear ambiguous enough to pass for either one species or the other without being forced to distinguish. It would muffle the sound of his heartbeat, lower his body temperature (which made him extremely glad that he had chosen a jacket for the evening) as well as hide his smell completely. It was a known fact that humans weren't allowed inside of the club anymore. It was owned by his former classmate, who was another Vampire that he was looking for but hadn't managed to find yet. Given that they weren't on friendly terms, he doubted their knowledge of one another existence wasn't enough to get him into the establishment. Luckily, he had made enough contacts by now to have that particular issue solved for him already. Plus, by having an escort, people were less likely to look at the new face, less likely to think that he stood out. He needed to be as invisible as possible until he wanted to be seen.

The ministry informant that was supposed to be his 'pass' for the night was waiting outside the bright red door for him, casually leaning up against the wall of the establishment with a cigarette in his mouth that smelled like it contained something other than tobacco. He should have assumed that there would be copious amounts of drugs involved. The man was a twitchy little thing, a scar going down the better part of the right side of his face from where Ashton had sliced him with a wolfsbane dipped pocketknife. He owed Ashton, and this was his favor. He said not a word, but instead smelled Ashton deeply, as if confused as to why he was so different, but knew better than to say anything. With another drag of whatever it was that he was smoking, he pushed off of the wall and lead Ashton through the door. There were people lining the walls. Enough to make his heart jump into his throat but they couldn't hear it. They all thought he was one of the undead. What a strange pairing, a werewolf and a vampire, they must have thought. But yet they said nothing, not a word. They all just stared as they walked past. The lights illuminating the hallway were faint at best, some casting a yellow glow on the space that they were moving through. He followed the informant, keeping his head held high. Like this was nothing to him, like it was average. He should have felt more at ease, he did this for a living after all. He had been in far worse places than this, surrounded by more evil and he had walked out. This was special, he couldn't exactly just go about arresting everybody, there were too many of them, and far too little of him. No doubt none of these beasts were registered, but Ashton had a good memory. He would remember, he would find them. Perhaps not today, but he would eventually find them all.

He was lead down another hallway, past the throbbing beats of the club area. He only caught a small glimpse, his eyes locking with a woman of the 'goth' fashion, her teeth sunk into a woman who seemed to be in the throws of something that didn't even seem physically possible. No humans allowed, they were feeding on each other? Or was there..people...held hostage here somewhere. Tearing his eyes away, against every instinct that he had in his body, he followed the man down another hallway. He was likely to get lost in a place like this. So many hallways, so many people looking like they wanted to eat him, no matter what species he was. It was all very unbecoming yet, he couldn't deny that this place felt sensual. Standing so close, being 'accepted' as one of their own, he could see why people fantasized about this, why it was overly sexualized by the mainstream media. Pulling his hands out of his back pocket he rounded the corner, where a large man, who made no attempts to hide the animal that he was, was standing guard. The door was opened for him, apparently his informant was higher up than he had imagined. Ashton was supposed to be here for a poker game. And an arrest, of course, but mostly just for the poker, find out everything that he could from this little encounter. Ashton didn't nod, he didn't make anything movements other than to hold eye contact with just about every being that he came to see, it seemed to be a custom of theirs somehow. Which was strange given how much they liked to hide. Once inside the room, the reenforced, leather lined door was slammed shut behind them. The only lights in this room were red, there was no way that Ashton was going to be able to get out of here in a pinch. He needed to ready himself, just in case. Thankfully, given his affinity for not showing his emotions, his fear wasn't visible. They couldn't smell him, nor his emotions.

A slender red headed vixen took Ashton's hand, slipping her other hand into the back pocket of his informant. There will be temptations Rutherford had said, Ashton's mind drifted back to the meeting that he had had with Rutherford. This was apparently vital enough to ruin Ashton's sabbatical. Of course, he wasn’t 'back' yet, he wasn't going to return to his job until well after Kaydence was back in one piece. He couldn't make a habit out of this, but he couldn't afford to lose his livelihood either. Don't give in, be above it. They would be able to feel you up close Why Ashton was always the one that was forced to try out all of the new products was beyond him. Sure, it might be only because he was the only wizard alive who did what he did...but they should have tried things out before giving them to him. So far, everything had worked exactly the way that they had told him that it would, and Ashton hoped to be retired by the time he found one that didn't work the way that they had hoped. He still had no idea how they came about these, highly experimental potions, but they did. Pulling his hand from the smaller creatures, much to her bitterness, he curled his upper lip at her, like he was disgusted. Which, was easy enough because he was. Sure, she was attractive enough, but she was so cold, so very, very pale and wearing next to nothing. He couldn't waste his time with her, not whenever he had such a warm living woman waiting for him at home. Although she looked hurt, she slid back a blood red curtain to reveal a door that otherwise, he never would have known was even there. It was a small thing, with a large diamond for the handle. He didn't have to touch it to know it wasn't a cheap plastic imitation, it was the real thing. Ashton had been inside of his share of clubs, all over the globe but never had he come across anything quite like this. It was almost like he had stepped into a movie, some seedy underground gambling setting that would have taken place in the twenties. Like a speak easy, only with far more money..and heavier music. The appeal of a place like this was incredible, he could feel it sucking him in.

Sliding past the vixen woman he eased himself into the smallest room that he had seen yet. It looked to be about eight feet by nine feet, with plush booths lining the back half of the room, women draped lazily across the purple velvet. Even heavier curtains were hanging from the walls, so that they both lined the room and could section it off if they wanted more privacy. Placed in the middle of the back half of the room, was a poker table. Four members were already posted. Ashton said nothing, unsure of how to proceed. Monroe had taught him how to play poker a long time ago, so Ashton wasn't intimidated, knowing that Damien played as dirty as they came whenever he needed booze money. The informant was talking to a large man with his back toward the door. He had hair poking out of every inch of exposed skin, coupled with thick golden jewelry. It would have been comical had it not actually been real. No doubt the man couldn't exactly wear silver, so he overcompensated. Folding his arms across his chest, standing at his full six foot four, hulking stature he waited. Finally, the informant wiggled his fingers for Ashton to approach. Heading toward the table, his shoes making not a single sound on the floor as he moved forward, not a single head turned to look at him until he had sat down. His chair just so happened to be facing the one exit of this otherwise solid room. For a place that catered to the undead, why would they have bothered with windows, no, it was just him. Locked into a small room with a mass of murderers. ”Welcome” the hairy man stated, not like it was actually a welcome, but as if he was attempting to see if Ashton scared easily. He doubted he could be any more intimidated than he already was. At least the potion was still holding his secrets to himself.

Ashton said nothing, instead he reached into the breast pocket of his leather jacket to extract the large amount of marked coins the ministry had given him for this very purpose, and dropped the blue velvet bag onto the table. Allowing the jacket to fall from his shoulders, he turned only long enough to place it on the back of his chair, making a mental note of exactly how he was going to need to move to retrieve his vials should the need arise. He only had two of each, and there were easily ten people in this small room. Hairy man accepted the bag of coins, snapping his fingers and replacing the bag with a large stack of various valued poker chips. It was so easy to forget that these people could do magic as well. It was unfair to the rest of the world. It made him hate them even more. Hairy man started to deal the cards, five to each player at the table and left the rest of the deck in front of him. Ashton pulled the cards and chips toward his body, making work of organizing them the way that he liked as the game started to get underway. Never once did Ashton say a single word. Favoring instead the hand gestures that would convey what he wanted instead. He hoped it made him look more serious, like he was above all of this whenever all he really wanted to do was spit in each one of their smug faces. The games went on, perhaps he had been sitting there for hours. While nobody else in this room really needed sleep, or breaks of any kind Ashton would eventually. Out of the six who had started playing, it was only three now. The hairy man, Ashton, and a woman wearing outdated evening wear. The Informant was still leaning up against the wall, no doubt wanting to make sure that he fulfilled his duty to Ashton so that they would never have to look at one another again. Ashton had won some, lost some but overall held his own. He had made more money than he had walked in here with so he was able to keep playing. He had gone through at least four whiskeys, and was sipping on his fifth. Since there was no clock or windows, he had no idea how long he had been in here. Hours, at the very least. Did they ever get bored sitting so very rock still for so long? They had to.

While Ashton wasn't talking, everybody else in the room was, most of all the three girls commenting on the entire game to the left of his body. They commented on the players, the game, the money, themselves, but most importantly, their contacts. They must have assumed that everybody in this room was just a trusted person and that they could speak freely. Nobody was stopping them. At least Ashton now knew that it wasn't the hairy man that he was here for, even though that man seemed to be the most obviously in charge, but the woman that was still playing. She was the leader of whatever Coven he was after. It seemed that she was more about the dark arts than just being the normal undead annoyances that was her species. Ashton's mind couldn't stop from spinning to Darren and Kaydence, their whole family, and the classes that he had taken back at school. Even though he knew that he should have been focusing on the words that the bat women were saying, he just couldn't keep his mind from wandering. He didn't have backup available to him, even if he decided that he needed it. He could only hope that he didn't.

X

Ashton wasn't exactly when things had gotten so out of control. He wasn't even sure exactly what moment it had been, what had triggered it. But it felt like one moment, they were playing the game, he had the better hand. It was the most challenging game of poker that he had ever played given the fact that the woman could be like a stone, no tells as to her hand and the man...well, he was jut downright hard to look at. With his overbearing cromagnon looking self. The next moment, it was like they could smell him. Had the potion worn off? Shouldn't he have been jettisoned out of the club if that was the case? Had he done something to give himself away? He knew that he had been shifting more than he should have been, but that Whiskey had started to go to his head. Not enough to make him drunk, but just enough to make him feel lighter than he actually was. A little happier, perhaps he had smiled...broken character or his cover or something. All Ashton knew that he had had very little time to dip into his jacket and pull out his syringe in time to shoot up the hairy man as he was lunging over the table aimed at Ashton's throat. His body had hit the table, hard enough for it to slide into Ashton, thus pushing both him and his chair backward and into the booth. Luckily, his wand had just been in his pocket, so he had been able to hex the first few girls who had come after him. It seemed like they had been toying with him, underestimating him. Perhaps they hadn't seen him inject the hairy man, whatever the case. He was thankful for it, he wouldn't have survived otherwise. The leader, the woman that he was here for, didn't even move, she didn't stop sipping from her teacup which he knew from the smell was full of blood. Repulsive. She seemed to just assume that her minions would have taken care of him for her. Which, wasn't the case. Sadly...the three chatter boxes had been forced to die. Ashton had shoved his wand deep into the chest cavity of one, lucky the damn thing didn't snap in half while buried in her body. He hadn't brought any weapons, and while he could have conjured one...had he stopped to think about it, he hadn't. One other had been caught in the cross fire, the informant had lost his cool..shifting in the middle of the room and ripping one to pieces. The second syringe had gone into his leg, which was a shame since he was the only one in this building on Ashton's side...he just, couldn't risk anything happening...too much blood.

They were just...popping...like blood filled balloons whenever they died. It was disgusting. Perhaps it was due to the full moon, but once the first blood has spilled..they had all turned on one another...with Ashton just attempting to freeze people in place. If the room that they were in hadn't been sound proof...he wasn't certain what he would have done...not walked out of here...that was for certain. A lanky man dressed in all black had been the one attending to them most of the night, bringing their drinks, watching the game for long moments at a time, attempting to steal away with one of the females. He hadn't had any luck thus far, but they were bound to give in eventually if he kept at it. It wasn't all that hard to wear a woman down if you put your mind to it. He had been so insignificant at the time, not anybody that should have been important...until he was gone. Ashton's eyes ran over the frames of the people now laying in various states around the room. The only one still conscious was the woman that he had been here for in the first place, she was suspended in the middle of the room close to the ceiling, but not close enough to help herself in any way. She was spitting and hissing at him, but he would have to deal with her later. He would get her to surrender her coven to the Ministry, that wasn't even an issue. It would just take time...and if that skinny twerp had ratted them out, then he was really going to be in trouble. He wasn't in the room and Ashton hadn't seen him leave. “Shit” He muttered to himself, backing to the door, placing a silencing charm on the outraged vampire elder hanging from the ceiling. At least, he assumed she was an elder due to her horrible dress. Kaydence must have rubbed off on him more than he had originally assumed. Looking at dresses. Shaking his head his hand reached for the diamond door handle, but it wouldn't turn. A strange glowing sensation took hold of him, like his hand was throbbing. Like he had taken bad drugs. The second he let go of the handle, the feeling went away. Perplexed, he tried again, only to have the same thing happen. “Damnit” it must have been one of their enchantments, he knew humans weren't allowed in, but once inside he didn't think that he would have had such trouble getting out. Sighing, his hands moved along the curtains of the small room, only coming across one even smaller door hidden behind a mass of curtains once again, but it too, wouldn't allow him passage. While the room was mostly soundproof, and now eerily silent, he could hear faint things from the room outside. Moving to the door, he stood just to the side of it, his ear pressed against the padded surface, hoping to hear something. But nothing, not even the loud music could be heard from the other side. “Shit shit shit”

His hands moved to his pockets, looking for his badge. That should help him, somebody had to be in the office that could send somebody back in to get him. Only, he couldn't find it. Just whenever panic was about to really set in, the doorknob started to turn. The red lights hanging from the chandelier in the ceiling reflected off of it, making the knob almost seem golden somehow. Pushing himself flush against the door his hand slipped into his pocket and pulled out the ruby colored spray bottle that Rutherford had given him. Now was just as good a time as any. Blood was clinging to his neck and hands. This, was not going the way that he had hoped. Hand clutched in his hand he waited until the door had opened. For some reason, he couldn't get out on his own. Whenever he touched the doorknobs, something happened to his hands. It wasn't painful exactly, but he couldn't seem to make his hand turn the knob. A slender brunette creature came through the door, and let it fall behind her heavily. She seemed unsure of what to do. He needed the surprise, she could so easily overpower him. She might look small, but Ashton knew better. Lurching from his spot he looped an arm around her neck, his wand pressing hard into her throat. His other hand sprayed the same formula that had guided him safely until this point directly into her face. Black lines spread down her face, her eyes darkened. It was terrifying, until he recognized her, and dropped his hold of her, shoving firmly so that she fell into the mass of unconscious bodies in front of her. “Natalie” he spat, knowing full well that wasn't her name. She was nothing but a liar. “I was hoping to see you here”


[ooc: listen to Audiomachine - judge and jury while reading for effect...because it's cool]

[Keara Sonnet]

As Keara’s hand flipped the switch of the light for the room, she begrudgingly turned around to face the mess ahead of her. Luckily, this room was substantially cleaner than the last one she had walked into. The blue velvet booths around the room were clean from where she was standing. The mini-bar had been completely ravaged, most of its contents strewed across the room. Most of the bottles were empty with the exception of the bottles of blood that remained in the mini-bar. No doubt the habitants of the room had been werewolves. If it had been vampires, the last few bottles would have been drained first, then the alcohol. But cleaning up the mini-bar wasn’t much of a problem. In fact, despite how many rooms she cleaned, the mini-bar was always the one with the least amount of work because all she had to do was put it back into place. The restocking boy took care of the rest and he always did a damn good job of making sure they each had exactly what they needed. He even catered to the groups coming in. If he knew they were vampires, maybe a few extra bottles of blood. Werewolves on a full moon got a vial of wolfsbane in case it was needed. She could see that particular bottle sitting across the room in a broken heap, the contents nowhere to be found so that was an immediate indication that they had been werewolves. At least they had their draft for the night.

Moving around the room, Keara took in the silence. Though she knew her focus should have been on attending to the club, she couldn’t help but want a small amount of time where she didn’t have to listen to that racket they called music. She missed the music of the fifties sometimes. So much calmer, much less bass. But, she had to hand it to the current era, the bass beating against her undead heart was rather invigorating sometimes. Just not every night she worked. She bent down and picked up the pieces of broken glass on the ground, tossing them in the trash can off to the side. Janitorial would be around to pick those up later. She was just doing the major work at this point. Someone had to and she would rather be back here doing this than up front getting her mind torn apart by the music. She didn’t want that to be the thing that ruined her good mood about the Gala coming up. For the past few weeks she had been trying to convince Tristan to attend with her and finally that he had said yes, she was ecstatic to go. She focused on that thought as she moved around to collect the other bottles lying around the room. They were placed into the same bin as the broken glass before she moved to the tall table off to the side of the room. She moved it back to its original position and aligned the chairs so the set up was back the way it needed to be for the next set of guests tomorrow night. One more glance around the room told her it was good to go for restocking and a polishing clean. Which meant she was able to move on to the next room.

So she picked up her bin, shut off the lights, and opened the door. The flood of music surrounded her again and made her nearly want to shut the door and leave it that way until her head could handle the racket. Tonight she seemed to be overly sensitive to the beat but she imagined it was just because of how ready she was for the Gala. Her mind was focused on that and did not want to be at work. Had Centara brought her ass in today, she wouldn’t even be here. She would have taken the time off to stay home or go wait for Tristan to arrive back at his place. Either way, it would have been more entertaining than being stuck here, cleaning up other peoples messes. But, such was life and she would take it in stride as she always did. With that in mind, she stepped back out into the hallway and closed the door behind her before moving on to room number three. There were only four total that had been used that night so she was nearly done. It was a mixed feeling of joy and frustration at the thought that she would be done with the room soon, mostly because she wanted to enjoy the silence more. But she also wanted to get the night over with quicker and somehow, the nightclub always seemed to help the time fly.

“Two more…” she muttered to herself before placing her hand on the door handle and making her way into the third room. It had always been her favorite with the deep purple furnishings and the red lighting, always setting the mood for a fantastic night. Tonight it had been reserved for a special poker game that was held once every few months to appease one of the outlying coven’s leaders. Centara had tried so hard to get the woman on her side, and after months of debate and killing of vampires from her coven, the two had come to an agreement. As long as Centara provided the protection from the Ministry they felt they deserved and a poker game every few months, she would profess her coven into Centara’s hands. How the vampire managed such things, Keara did not want to know. It was enough that she knew about the coven deals because she wanted absolutely no part of everything Centara was planning, however, after being sucked into the last game by her niceness alone, Keara had learned much more than she wanted to about the deal. Luckily, she had managed to get out of there before any other details were shared with her. The last thing Keara wanted was for her to know enough information to become dangerous. That was when her life would start to pop up with plenty of dangers she did not want to have to deal with.

As the door opened to the room, Keara was shocked at the sight. The bin of dishes in her arm were quickly set down outside of the door as she walked in and shut it behind her. There was blood. A lot of blood. Everywhere. She could smell it flooding into her. Some of it was vampire, both sweet and savory which meant vampires of all ages were collateral in whatever had gone down. But there was also some werewolf mixed in there. That putrid stench that they gave off made her nauseaus, but not nearly as much as what was about to happen. As she moved to fully take in the sights to understand what had truly happened, she heard something off to the side and before she could figure out who exactly or what exactly it was, a hand was around her neck and a spray in her face. She hadn’t even noticed the wand there, her focus went too quickly to whatever had just been sprayed. Immediately she felt a burning sensation. Her eyes felt like they were on fire, her fangs felt like they were going to slice through her own lips if they didn’t get more room. All in all, she let out a soft yelp of pain before biting it back. She could feel her eyes fading to the black shade she hated so, her face reflecting the monster she could be if she allowed it to come forth. Her fangs were brushing up against her skin, threatening to cut her if she didn’t allow them access to the flesh of the person who had just hurt her.

Her hand groped at the arm holding her but she was shoved to the side into a heap of bodies. Luckily they were vampires, but she wasn’t entirely sure how she had managed to be pushed. There wasn’t intense strength behind the push. She would have felt the muscle structure. It was almost like a human had pushed her. Through her burning eyes, Keara looked up to the location of the person who had just dared lay a hand on her. Standing there was the human she had met one day in a muggle town. “Natalie.. I was hoping to see you here.” What the hell had he just done? How had he managed to push her so easily and why did she feel like she had just been doused with a bout of holy water? It didn’t have the same effects so she knew it hadn’t been the accursed liquid, however it was something else that hurt her. Actually hurt her. The last time something had done that was when Isis had scratched half of her arm into ribbons. How would a human do such a thing? “Ashton,” she said in return with the same spite in her voice. Obviously he was much more than she had anticipated him being that first day they had met. He knew something about vampires that was dangerous and, from the smell of the room, werewolves as well. How did he find something that would show herself to him? There was nothing out there that she hadn’t been able to resist in the past. People had thrown holy water on her and she resisted crying out in pain. They had shoved her into direct sunlight and she had found a way to counter that as well. But here he was, using such a simple mist of some sorts to make her feel so… vulnerable.

She wasn’t going to let him get away with it. She had already been on the ground long enough to state his name and that was long enough already. The moment his name had left her lips, she was off the ground and her hand was at the base of his neck, holding him against the luxury padding of the door. At least he would have a soft surface to lay against as she killed him. Without a second though, she moved her mouth to his neck and allowed her fangs to sink in to the soft, warm skin of his neck. It was all okay until a small amount of blood entered into her mouth. The moment it touched her tongue, she could feel a burning sensation. Although, it was too late to stop. She had already indulged in enough of his blood that it was now sliding down her throat. Dropping him to the ground, her hands went to her neck as she began to cough violently, small flecks of his blood leaving her mouth and hitting the floor. She dropped to her knees as the burning crept down her body slowly. It wasn’t normal. That was not normal. No human had ever caused such a reaction to her before. What the hell had he done to his blood? What the hell had he done to her? She tried to move but her body refused. All she was able to do was look up from the floor where she had just been coughing at. Above her hung the coven leader, the host of this poker game, suspended in midair, still alive. Well, as alive as a vampire could be. Looking back down at Ashton, she wondered who he was. How he could kill all of these vampires and werewolves alone when he was so obviously human. How had he even gotten inside? She knew he was human because of the first day they met. His heartbeat was the same as that day. She could hear it. They had so many anti-human repellants on the door outside to keep them from entering so how had he found a way around it? And what had he used on her to make her this pathetic?

“Who the hell are you?”

[Ashton Wentworth]

Not everybody was dead. Ashton felt that it was important to keep reminding himself of that. Some of them, the larger, more important seeming ones were only incapacitated for the time being. Sooner rather than later they were bound to wake up. Hopefully, y that time Ashton would have already gotten them back to the ministry and safely tucked away into the holdings of the iron barred rooms located in the back of the first floor where he worked. There would be lots of sunlight and silence to keep them occupied there. Hopefully, the combination of the two would be enough to make them want to start talking. At least, that was the plan as it soot at this very moment. He was fairly certain that only the random ones had actually been slain, although since Ashton couldn't reasonably take credit for whatever had happened once they had all turned on one another, he would have to check who was alive and dead once he had handed the situation that was on the ground in front of him. He hoped that the small whelp that she had given once the spray had hit her in the face had meant that it was working. Since it was a new formula and all. He had only just wanted to get out of here, at least now he wasn't going to have to haul a body closer to the exit and use their cold, unmoving hand to pry the damn thing open. These charms were like nothing that he had ever experienced before, and he didn't exactly like them. If only the use of magic by the supernatural had been outlawed, that might have at least leveled the playing field just a little. Given that it was just him against the rest...he needed every advantage that he was able to get.

He watched her, wand still at the ready just in case she got any bright ideas. Sure, she had seemed nice enough whenever they had met all those months ago. But a lot had happened since then, the battle for one. He knew for a fat that she was dating his own arch enemy, and if he could use that to get out of here, he was going to. Things were falling into place, he had thought it had been so strange that she had offered to come back to his house and paint, only to leave once she had seen where he lived. Now, seeing her here, confirming the things that he had already fairly certain that he had known about her before, it made sense. She couldn't enter his property, not just his home but the surrounding area as well. Due to his own enchantments to ward off her and her kind. The disappearance into the bathroom, her eagerness to leave quickly. It all made sense now. Deep down he felt repulsed that he had ever considered bedding her, an undead thing. She had been using her wiles on him, that was going to mark the very last time that he didn't trust his gut. He had known that something was off about her, and while he had his suspicions, now he had his proof. She wasn't registered, so he had the upper hand here. His fingers flexed on the handle of his wand, his other hand containing the spray closer to his body, his fist almost balled. She was stronger than he was, there was no doubt about that, he knew that she was faster and more lethal, but he had to try everything he could. Hit her before he could be hit.

“Ashton,” Shifting his weight more centered, despite the slickness of blood under his shoes making him hesitant to lung at her he smirked “You remembered” not that they had much of a relationship, they had nothing. They weren't even friends, she hadn't even bothered to tell him her real name. Now, he knew it was rightly so that she hadn't. She had a good reason to fear him, most of all since he was the only one in the room still left standing. The sultry music still blasting throughout the club was giving him more confidence than he should have had. Ashton knew that the older a vampire was, the stronger that they get. Like with every year, more power is given to them somehow. He had no idea how old she actually was, but he could venture a guess. She couldn't be more than 100, why would she still be working here if she was. He didn't know, and he didn't have time to care. He was lucky to still be alive, and he wanted to keep on living for the foreseeable future. Yet, he had underestimated her speed, his mistake. Her hand was at his throat before he had even been able to see her stand. She had lunged at him, her face already exposed in that disgusting darkness. She had been so pretty before, but he would never be able to unsee this, not in a million years. His body slammed against the door, but he didn't let go of the items in his hand. His wand pressed deeply into her stomach, his brain failing to speak the needed spell due to the intense lack of oxygen his body suddenly had. She was crushing his windpipe, threatening to force his adam's apple into his trachea. Her fangs penetrated his neck easily, never before had he let one of them get the drop on him. He was going to be scarred forever. His eyes widened at the strangely euphoric feeling that was forced upon him, like he felt after drinking a bottle of whiskey too quickly. A strangely swimming feeling.

Another screech. She was gone, back across the room next to the body of the hairy man. The fingertips of his wand hand crossed over his body, there was only a small trickle of blood leaving his body, it didn't feel like she had drained too much, he didn't feel light headed or pale. Ashton had been in his share of altercations in his life, most of them voluntary. He had had the blood drained from his body more than once, worn his insides on his outsides, both metaphorically and literally but he didn't feel anything now. It wasn't his high tolerance of pain, he really felt fine. Something had stopped her. Confused for a moment, thinking that the potion had been mostly out of his system...but then he remembered the injections that Rutherford insisted on him getting once a week. Smirking again, his confidence restored he moved toward her. She would have to break him in half to kill him, not that he doubted she could do it, but it would be a lot more difficult for her now that she had poisoned herself. His lip curled upward as the sight of his blood lining her lips, staining them. She had no right to his blood, or any part of him. Filthy little leech. This was rapidly becoming more personal than the other bodies in the room. “Who the hell are you?” At her words, a small smile spread across Ashton's face. Perhaps there would be something to save the rest of the night after all. Lowering his eyes to her he shrugged “I'm somebody that you really shouldn't have lied to” The spray wasn't lasting as long as he would have liked it to, it should have gone more damage. He didn't think that she was old enough to be immune to that sort of thing. No, it should have effected her more. Holding the bottle out in front of his body once more, his finger hovering over the spray nozzle. Even if it didn't last long, he would be happy spraying her over and over again if he felt the need to. It would behoove her to keep her distance. Moving in front of her body, he lowered the spray to her face again, spraying twice, bitterly for her having bit him.

[Keara Sonnet]

Keara was disgusted with herself, being on her knees in front of a human. Tristan was the only human who had ever deserved her on her knees and the only human she was ever okay being in this position with. At least in this era. Ashton did not deserve to see her on the ground. She should be holding him to the ground for whatever he had just done to her, but she couldn’t move. Every time she did, the burning in her throat got worse. It was like whatever was in his blood was burning the tissue in her throat every time it tried to regenerate. She didn’t care for the stuff but it was starting to wear down. Apparently it had an expiration date just like everything else in the world, except fast food that is. Even the less burning sensation she got didn’t will her to move, however. It was just as painful as her werewolf scratch the first night she had received it and that was not pain she enjoyed. She actually didn’t enjoy any pain unlike some vampires who enjoyed to get beaten and burned. They got a kick out of it. She on the other hand found it to be something she didn’t enjoy. She didn’t get the euphoria out of it like Centara did, or the adrenaline rush some of those new vampires had when they fed off of one another. They were all so young and immature, and they showed it with the way they were into personal affliction.

She was sure plenty of them would love to be in the position she was, getting a kick out of drinking this guy’s blood, whoever he was, but she wasn’t enjoying it one bit. She tried to move, even the slightest as he came towards her and even just the slight shift of her torso sent the flames roaring up again. This time they didn’t sear all the way, but it was bad enough. One of her hands dropped from her neck, the other remaining there. She put her free hand on her thigh, grasping it as tightly as possible without ripping open her own skin. If she hadn’t been wearing a dress, she would have torn her pants open with her grip. She couldn’t believe she was stuck in this situation and by the look of the coven leader still lingering up in the air, neither could she. They were both stuck in this room with whoever the hell he was and neither of them could do much about it. How did two vampires get reduced to so little by a human? The anger was flaring even more as he came closer and the smile on his face became more apparent. “I'm somebody that you really shouldn't have lied to.” Keara chuckled softly as she bit her lip and smirked. “Actually, looking at the situation we’re in now,” she replied, motioning to the coven leader hovering in the middle of the room, “I think it’s one of the best things I have done in a while. Let me guess, Ministry? Or no, vampire hunter. That has to be it. Ministry doesn’t go out of their way to hurt people like you’re doing. They’re supposed to be the good guys, right?” She let out a laugh, deep and dark, completely against her normal demeanor.

She should have stayed home, took the night off and let Centara manage her own club. But she hadn’t. Instead, Keara was kneeling on the floor, her eyes focused on the man whom, to this day, she had thought of as some paranoid schizo with a vampire barrier around his home. Since that day, she hadn’t seen nor thought of him yet here he was. He was a human, in the middle of Der Keller despite all of the enchantments that had been set up. How had he managed it and what did he really want? She could see his wand in one hand and the bottle in the other. She wondered what was in it. Why it would make her become the vampire she hid so well. What could possibly be in existence that would cause such things to happen? Honestly, she didn’t want to know. She hoped it wasn’t real and that he had just used a spell but she distinctly remembered a spray. He came closer to her with the bottle in hand. Her eyes narrowed as he bent lower, the bottle pointed right at her face. Her smile was replaced by a grimace. How dare he threaten her? A human, threatening a vampire. A low hiss began to echo through her teeth until finally, he sprayed her twice. She had tried to lunge forward at him while she had the chance but the effect was instant. The low hiss previously emitting from her mouth became angrier, more forceful. Her fangs were bared in his direction, her eyes becoming bloodshot as her iris’ flooded red. Her hiss became muffled as whatever it was he had sprayed took further affect, her mouth and eyes closing shut tightly for a moment. She could feel it burrowing into her skin, almost like an infection. It burned just like whatever was inside of his blood. Her teeth clenched as her eyes opened and her hand quickly moved out for him. Her arm wasn’t as affected by the blood she had ingested but it still protested to her movement because it also moved her torso, but she didn’t stop moving until that split second had passed and her fist was clenched around the collar of his shirt. The searing on her body subsided as she stopped moving. For a second she felt like it had just completely worn away. What didn’t kill you made you stronger, right? That was the vampire motto.

She was going to kill him for doing this to her. He was going to join the pile of victims in this room and she wasn’t going to look the other direction. If he had played nice, things wouldn’t have become so ugly, but he didn’t. So to make up for it, she put whatever force she could into her finger tips and threw him across the room. Unfortunately, he landed against the padded door. “Damnit,” she cursed. Her aim had been off. She wanted him to hit the mini-bar. At least it would have been something solid in the attempt to mutilate him. The effects of the spray hadn’t worn off yet. She could still feel her fangs involuntarily rubbing against her skin and her eyes showing the blood running through every nerve. Willing it to go away, she dropped her arm back to her side. She was still on her knees but she didn’t dare move. Though most of the pain had subsided, Keara knew it was only a matter of moments before it came flaring back up again once she moved. I only need a second. That’s it. I can be on him and snap his neck, she told herself, but even the thought of moving for that small amount of time was not appealing. She just had to wait for the blood to burn through her system. Considering she hadn’t eaten all night, that shouldn’t take too long. “What do you want with us? You already got in the club, shouldn’t that be enough? Or, is it that you can’t get out that is the problem?” Her grin had returned as she moved her head to one side.

“Why don’t you come over here and I can tell you exactly what you need to do to get out?” She hoped he would. If he did, she could grab him without much movement. It would save her a trip across the room and it would save her time as well. He wouldn’t be so hard to kill given he didn’t have anything else hiding up his sleeves. “C’mon. I promise I’ll play nice. No more biting.”

[Ashton Wentworth]

She should have come at him again by now, she should have attacked, wasn't that what was in their nature? Ashton was far more comfortable encountering werewolves, they were more animalistic, had more rage and he had no guilt whatsoever about taking them down. He hated that whole race. Yet, the undead woman before him, it was something different. Not that he really cared, but she had seemed so damn normal before, held a normal conversation and not once had she attempted to kill him, of course, now he was sure that was all that she was going to do from this point forward. He should have trusted his gut, he should have arrested her on the spot, but her pretty face, and her wiles had forced him to let her go. Now he knew better, he wouldn't be making that mistake again in the future. Was the spray really affecting her that strongly? It seemed so unlikely, but if it was, he was never going to be without this damn bottle. It had come in handy more than once tonight. That, and the potion in his bloodstream. That had taken a bit of getting used to in the beginning but over time the side effects had become just a part of his life. He slept less, but that could just be because of his job, and he had a strange affection for ginger root in his food that he had never really liked before but it seemed to help. So be it. “Actually, looking at the situation we’re in now, I think it’s one of the best things I have done in a while.” She had a point, he was still working on the whole witty banter thing, usually his job didn't entail much talking. Even whenever he was in the office, if he wasn't doing paperwork, he was punching the man he was still sharing an office with.

“Let me guess, Ministry? Or no, vampire hunter. That has to be it. Ministry doesn’t go out of their way to hurt people like you’re doing. They’re supposed to be the good guys, right?” keeping his wand steady and trained on her chest, he fished out his badge from his back pocket “you were right the first time” he said simply, no point in hiding it from her now anyway, she had to of seen his face all over the papers after the battle, maybe she just wasn't the papers type. Given that her boy toy's face had been plastered all over it as well, he had just assumed that she would have been one to read it. “As far as I see it, I'm defending myself” which was also truth given the many, many advantages that they had over him in just about every say that wasn't potion related. They had attacked him for simply being human, why shouldn't he have the right to attack them based on other more than what they were as well? Her growl was disgusting, like a pained lioness. He never wanted to hear something like it again, women just shouldn't sound like that. Ever. This was a first for him, never before had he need only two feet away from an exposed vampire like this and both parties still been alive. The black lines traveling down her face from the venom or whatever it was that he had sprayed her with, her lips curled back over her teeth, like a rabid animal. Then there were her eyes...the blood red iris and the black lining...why with the black? Did she not have blood of her own flowing through her system, he had always wanted to know exactly how that worked. She was in pain, good, she could stay that way, he was struggling to remember her real name, the one that Tristan and that other vampy tramp had called her. Just how quickly could she heal? If he kept spraying how badly would if effect her, but this was an opportunity, and he wasn't even here for her in the first place.

Too much talking, that was always the downfall. Whenever she moved, he hardly even saw it, but he felt his feet leaving the ground. Why. Why did they always throw him? Surely a punch would have been just as effective. He hated feeling like a rag doll, he wasn't a small man, he had at least a food on her, and while he was lean most of the time, he weighted a solid number. Fortunately, the spray seemed to have damaged her eyes, as once again he felt the soft padding of the door against his back, his head thrown harder into the cushion than the rest of his body. His body slid down after he hit, thankful that her aim was off, he caught himself with his hands, “Damnit,” laughing darkly as he righted himself he shot just a fleeting glance at the door she seemed to like to have him up against. No doubt Kaydence would have been jealous by now that another woman was touching him like this. He knew if she had been tossed round like this by a man – his thought train stopped, his gaze darkening, channeling his fury at the situation that he couldn't control into the woman in front of him. Luckily, it was one on one, not like earlier. Certainly this had to be easier, he could do this. She wasn't even off the ground, how had she thrown him? Frowning he began to advance on her once more, but her hand was held up, she was giving up already? Her friend had been more fun, at least she wasn't afraid to hit back. “What do you want with us? You already got in the club, shouldn’t that be enough? Or, is it that you can’t get out that is the problem?” “Not us.” he stared simply, his eyes darting up at the woman above them “Just her” he was only here for one woman, but he was willing to make an exception in Keara's case. He could use her, to get to the other one. The one in the photo...oh now pissy her boy toy was going to be if he cracked part of that puzzle first. As for the getting out part, he was working on it. He would figure it out, sooner or later.

“Why don’t you come over here and I can tell you exactly what you need to do to get out. C’mon. I promise I’ll play nice. No more biting.” He scoffed. She had been lying from the start, what would make this any different? No. He didn't fancy getting tossed across the room, again. “You come any closer to me, and I will curse you through that back wall.” his tone was grave, he meant it, and his wand was already aimed. “Somehow I don't think your brainwashed little boyfriend, Stavros would like you as much with a broken face”

[Keara Sonnet]

The effects of the potion and the spray were nearly gone but Keara didn’t dare move from the spot on the floor. His ministry badge had been enough to tell her to keep her distance, at least for now. There was no telling what else he had hidden up his sleeve and she would be playing it safe until she knew. The day they had been in that restaurant, talking, laughing, joking around; it was a distant memory and she couldn’t even imagine how she had gotten lucky enough not to give herself away. But, then again, she had at some point, hadn’t she? When they had walked back to his home, the anti-vampire charm around his home had probably been a dead giveaway to him if this was his job. If so, why hadn’t he arrested her on the spot? “As far as I see it, I'm defending myself.” Keara chuckled at the thought. He was defending himself against her? If only he really knew what he had started. She wasn’t a fighter at heart, never had been. The only time she killed was when she needed to but considering the unlimited supply of blood in the club, why would she have to kill here? If he hadn’t attacked her, if he hadn’t come into the club in the first place, there would be no need for him to defend himself. And after this incident, did he really think he was going to get away scotch free? He had gotten in far too deep to be allowed to leave now without at least a concussion, which Keara hoped she would be delivering if she could ever get her aim back on track. Throwing him into the door rather than the mini-bar had been a bad move on her part, but she would recover.

As he sat up against the door, she could see something change. His laugh that emitted from his mouth was one she only heard from those who were mentally insane or ready to kill someone. In this situation, it really could go either way. What was he doing sneaking into Der Keller anyways? He obviously knew something about the inhabitants of the club. That had to be the only reason he was here. Any human would be stupid to just walk through the door and disrupt the guests. Then again, most humans weren’t armed with things that could harm her kind, either. Her thoughts went back to that spray, and then what was so wrong with his blood that caused such a reaction? He had to have taken something that made him toxic to vampires and werewolves. It was probably something to deter biting. Needless to say, it had worked. She could take the opportunity to kill him right then and there, by snapping his neck, but Keara decided not to allude to the fact that the movement of her limbs no longer caused her the physical pain they had when she had thrown him. There was no telling the number of other secrets Ashton had hidden up his sleeves and she wasn’t going to test it at this point. Her ability to move would, instead, remain her little secret for now. If he tried to throw something else her way, she would be ready to take it and give it back tenfold. He wasn’t going to get the jump on her again.

When he stood up and advanced towards her, she held her position. She had expected him to say that he was going to take down the club when she had asked the question, but the answer she got made her quirk an eyebrow. No more vicious vampire. Just a confused one. The potions effects had faded and finally her fangs retracted and her eyes reverted back to the normal black iris’. Her anger had subsided for the moment as she tried to decipher what he had just said. “Not us. Just her” Why her? Keara was aware of her status in Austria, but it was nowhere near the status Centara held. Shouldn’t he be here looking for her? Of course, he wasn’t going to find her considering she was back at the Zealon Estate, most likely with her feet up and a cold glass of blood in front of her. Damn woman should be the one on her knees in the room, not Keara. Then again, Keara was probably better suited to handle the situation. Centara would have done whatever needed to kill him and no doubt that would have been a bloody mess to be cleaned up later. “What is she to you?” Keara asked, the confusion evident in her voice. Yes, he could probably make a connection between the woman hovering near the ceiling and the dark secrets of Austria’s vampire clans, but the woman would never spill any secrets. Vampire clan leaders only got their appointment because they knew how to hold their tongues and even bite it off if need be to keep from talking. If the woman became an endangerment to her clan, she would eventually find a way to kill herself. That was the oath vampires took when they vowed to protect those younger than them. That was why Keara would never do such a thing. She protected herself first and foremost.

“You come any closer to me, and I will curse you through that back wall.” Keara’s grin returned at the threat. He didn’t trust her but that was not a surprise. She was one of the nicest vampires he would ever come across but he had rubbed her the wrong way so many times already. Had it been before he had used that spray, she probably would have entertained the idea of letting him live, but it was past that point. Sparing him was a lie. “Oh, I would love to see you try.” He was far too overconfident for the situation he was in. Did he not realize he was the sitting duck, not her? She could leave the room at any moment and leave him behind. He would be locked in the room for as long as need be. There was liquor in the room which would sustain him for some small amount of time but eventually he would need food. And when he got so weak, his hold on the clan leader would fail and she would kill him quicker than he could blink. He stood no chance of getting out of this room alive which only made her wonder even further what else he had up his sleeve. “Somehow I don't think your brainwashed little boyfriend, Stavros would like you as much with a broken face.” Her grin didn’t falter, even with the sinking feeling in her chest. He had probably found one of her weakest points. Keara was for herself first and foremost, but there were some things that pulled at her emotions. Tristan was the biggest one. She would do anything to save him and she had. She had taken a killing curse for him and werewolf claws. If need be, she would have died for him that day in Gringott’s. There were only two other people she would do such things for. One was Damien, the sweetheart who she made a mental note to visit when she got out of this VIP lounge, and Centara, even if the vampire was a pretty damn good bodyguard on her own. Threatening any of them got her angry, but she wasn’t going to show it.

“I’m sorry, who?” she asked, a questioning look coming out across her features instead of the anger that was surging through her. She couldn’t show she was fazed because it gave him more reason to use Tristan against her. If he had seen the two together at Gringott’s, she couldn’t imagine she would be able to play it off for long, but she would do her best at this point. “Look, if you really just want her, be my guest. Take her with you and try to get out of here alive. I won’t bother trying to stop you.” Losing the woman wouldn’t be the worst thing that could ever happen. She was easily replaceable because no one would miss her. Most of her loyal followers were on the ground around Keara. She wondered if any were still alive or if they had all been taken down. She couldn’t imagine one human would have managed to take each and every one of these vampires and werewolves down. At least one of them had to be alive still. Even if they weren’t and wouldn’t be coming to the clan leaders rescue, there was still clusters of vampires and werewolves outside the sound proofed room that would gladly take a bite out of a human. No doubt the werewolves were starting to get restless as the full moon approached. Ashton would make a good meal for one of them.

[Ashton Wentworth]

If he could render her unconscious, there was a good chance that he would be able to get out of here on his own terms without having to rip her arm off at the elbow to do it. That had to be the trick, had to be one of them to get out. There was no other explanation that he could think of. Hopefully, he would manage to convince her to let him out of her own accord. If he couldn't he might be stuck in here for Merlin knows how long attempting to break through the considerable security in this place. He couldn’t just look at them and tell them what to do. She didn't look like she was in pain any longer, and who knew exactly how many times he was going to get away with spraying her in the face, it was going to be real magic time pretty soon, and he was going to end up with something broken, there was no denying that. Maybe she would be stupid enough to try and bite him again, that certainly had helped a lot. The hand with the spray drifted to his neck, testing his skin to see how much of it was covered with his own blood. He really had been lucky thus far, getting away without much damage to himself, until her anyway. Thankfully, the potion corrupting his blood seemed to have struck her rather quickly so she hadn't bit too much, the blooding would stop on it's own sooner or later. They were at an impasse, neither wanting to move for fear of the other. She was so very small, yet so very strong. He had always known that Stavros was a pig headed nitwit, but the fact that this slip of a woman had so much hold over him was just pathetic really. He watched her face revert into that of an attractive young, albeit undead, woman. While he wished that the spray had hurt her more, or at least had a more lasting effect, it was something that he could report back, assuming he made it out of here alive anyway.

She seemed confused, like she couldn't understand why he would be here for the older vampire, was is possible that he knew more about the woman and her influence than Keara did? It seemed unlikely, was she attempting to throw him off guard by feigning ignorance? He didn't move, he wasn't going to fall for her nonsense. “What is she to you?” “None of your business” he retorted offhand, not even pausing to consider giving her any information. He was used to denying people by now. She was a good fake, she even sounded curious. “Oh, I would love to see you try.” Did she think that he was bluffing? Then she really was stupid. If he had a spray that revealed her true self, not to mention his other little tricks, that he wouldn't be able to curse her into oblivion? “It'll be the easiest way out of here” he concluded, no concern for her welfare in his voice. If she died, so be it, he couldn't care less at this point. He knew the feeling was mutual. “I’m sorry, who?” her tone was repugnant. Yet, he returned her smile, his wand never leaving the spot on her chest where it was trained. Fine, play stupid, she would talk, in time. He could feel the weight of those vials in his back pocket. It would take a good minute to get to one and get it loaded, but if he were forced, then he would find a way, somehow. Then she wouldn't be smiling. She had seen what had happened to Isis, even if she hadn't known that it was him, he could only hope that the effects on her would be similar. It would be his last chance if it came down to that. “Look, if you really just want her, be my guest. Take her with you and try to get out of here alive. I won’t bother trying to stop you.” Already backpedaling? His grin grew, while it was an out, he couldn't help but notice that she was wanting him to leave just to avoid talking about Stavros. “Sure, I'll just tell him you said hi then? Maybe tell our boss about the sort he's been cohorting with”

It was an empty threat, only because Rutherford knew exactly who Ashton was seeing, and the lengths that he had already gone to in order to help her. Yet, Keara had no idea about any of that, and it was unlikely that she would figure it out either. Of course, Stavros would be mortified if his little secret came to light, which was just an added bonus for Ashton. “Doubt he'll be able to keep his job after this one” start where he knew irritated her, and work up to Centara, who would be a large bonus no matter how he tagged her. Was Keara afraid of being registered? Now that he knew her name and place of employment, he could do it for her, even without her permission. “Perhaps get you all registered while I'm at it?” his smile was gone now, just waiting for something incense her, for her to lung at him again. “It's my job after all” he wasn't ignorant, he knew that there was more than one party who wanted him dead simply because of the work that he did. He was infamous in most circles like hers, even if they didn't all know his name. Rapidly, he was becoming more and more hated the longer he worked for the Ministry and dated the Dark Lords sister. Yet, he supposed that somebody had to do it. At least he enjoyed his work. “Or” he counteracted, knowing he was hovering very close to death at this very moment. Tightening his grip on his wand he shuffled himself into a better stance. “You can turn over your friend, and I never saw you here”

[Keara Sonnet]

Keara’s position on the floor was getting rather tiresome but with his wand pointed in her direction, there was no way she was going to move until she was sure she could without lagging. It didn’t feel like she was affected by his weapons any longer, but only moving would be the assurance. She wasn’t ready to test it and face a curse. Even if she hardly ever felt pain for longer than a second (with the exception of his earlier luck with those weapons of his), she wasn’t fond of getting cursed. She wondered if he had any idea that she was not feeling the effects any longer. She was sure her face was back to its normal, porcelain tone and her eyes to the simple red iris’ she loved so much despite the anger they held behind them. That was probably the first sign that the effects were wearing off. “None of your business.” She raised an eyebrow with a smirk as she wondered what he was thinking. This was one of the moments where she wished telepathy was a skill of a vampire, however, no such luck. If she could get a good bite of his neck, she could get some memories from him to tell her what he was really there for, but with the adverse reaction she just had, that was not the best idea. “I beg to differ, considering you’re sitting in an establishment that I happen to be in as well, trashing the place I have to clean. I think that makes it my business.”

”It’ll be the easiest way out of here.” His cockiness was showing more than ever now. People always made mistakes when they thought they were the big man on campus. How did he think cursing her would do any good? Since he was Ministry, she was sure his skills were good but he needed someone with her abilities to get through the door. Was he really going to try and curse her to open it? He was sorely mistaken if that would work. It would only piss her off enough to where she would want to kill him herself rather than feeding him to the wolves. Unless, of course, he was going to drag one of the others in the room and make them open the door. He just had to hope he would find one that wasn’t alive and about to wake up. “Please, inform me of how that will help you get out. The way I see it, the easiest way you have to open that door is with me,” she said, her body language not changing in the slightest. It was getting annoying not to move a muscle but the ones on her face but that would change soon. Once she found the right moment.

”Sure, I’ll just tell him you said hi then? Maybe tell our boss about the sort he’s been cohorting with.” She let the words bounce off and acted as if he hadn’t said a word that meant anything. It wasn’t too difficult of a thing to do, but she was afraid he was pushing her buttons. Even as a calm, more timid vampire, even she had an edge she could be pushed to. ”Doubt he’ll be able to keep his job after this one.” And that was the edge. Keara’s eyes narrowed while had an image in her mind of snapping his neck. It would only take two seconds, she had learned that years ago when she was having one of her bad-vampire streaks. The last thing Keara ever intended to do was ruin Tristan’s dream job. When they had agreed to keep seeing each other after he found out what she was, she had sworn to him and herself that she would never jeopardize his career. She knew how much it meant to him, and here Ashton was dangling it in front of her on a string. She could save Tristan the heartache of losing his job if she complied, but then what kind of vampire would she be, sacrificing herself for a human? This whole caring for another person thing was getting too out of hand. Luckily, the other option was to kill him where he stood. No one would be able to find him when she was done with him and no one would be able to connect the attack to Tristan. They would both be safe to continue as normal. “Little boy, you are playing a game you really do not want to be in.” The words rolled off her tongue without much thought, but they were rather accurate. She was substantially smaller than him but also substantially older and stronger. In nearly every way, he was lesser than her, even if she never cared to treat anyone as such. She just hoped it would start to get under his skin as much as he was trying to get under hers.

”Perhaps get you all registered while I’m at it? It’s my job after all.” Merlin, he knew all the right buttons to push. She just wasn’t sure how. Then again, what vampire wasn’t concerned about being registered? The good thing was he knew nothing of her past or he would have already gone off on it. No one in his position would let a vampire that was born into the world have a fighting chance. She was sure of that. Any one person who was interested in stopping vampires would see her as a science experiment and nothing more. It was unfortunate, but she knew the threats she had against her. She had learned to accept them and, for the time being, she would avoid allowing those threats to become a reality. ”Or.” Fantastic. There was an “or.” He was trying to get her to choose an alternative option which she was sure was more in his favor than hers. That’s how it worked, after all. ”You can turn over your friend, and I never saw you here.” Keara’s anger dissipated as she quirked an eyebrow in puzzlement. “I’m sorry, my friend?” she asked, genuinely confused. What on earth was he talking about? Friends was not common in a vampire community and if he meant Tristan, there was hardly anything to turn over considering he knew and worked with the man. Her eyes moved to the vampire above that he still had captive. If he meant her, then he was mistaken because they had barely uttered two words to each other outside of her asking for her normal VIP Lounge.

Then it clicked. He was after the coven leader. It wasn’t the woman floating above, it was Centara. She allowed the confusion to remain on her face as her thought process changed and turned back towards him. “If you’re meaning her,” she said, looking back over at the woman above, still not moving a muscle but her eyes, “then you are mistaken. Because I believe I already said you could leave with her.” The thought of her protecting the woman was preposterous, given she had a hard time protecting any vampire. Centara was one of few in her history to be given that right, however, Keara was nowhere willing to give up much for her. As the words left her lips, Keara could see the eyes of the vampire above glare down in her direction. Keara went back to meet them and saw the distaste. The clan leader had no intention of letting herself fall prey to any of Ashton’s ideas of torture. Keara could see the look in her eyes now. The moment she had a chance, the woman would spill everything she knew about Centara, Keara, the entire vampire coven in Austria and everything they had going for them up until this date. There would be no chance of any of them getting away from the Ministry. Her eyes floated back to Ashton, looking at a few of the objects scattered on the floor on the way. “So you best be on your way with her before I change my mind.”

But, she really didn’t have any intentions of him leaving with her now. Not after she saw that look. Deciding now was a better time than any, she chose to moved. Rather than take it slow, she moved out of the way of his wand before he could even blink. Her hand grabbed the first thin, sharp piece of debris she could find on the ground and within three seconds, the vampires head was rolling on the ground. Keara was standing by the door, her hand placed upon the handle with the small metal shard in her hand, dripping with the vampires blood. “You can leave now,” she said with a grin, as she cracked open the door enough for the sound of the music to begin creeping into the room.

[Ashton Wentworth]

It was a long shot, more than a long shot really considering the fact that he possessed only a fraction of the strength that she did, not to mention the speed or any other undead traits that she had. Yet, he figured he might as well give it a shot if nothing else. It wasn't like this could get too much worse than it already was. He hoped. Why hadn't she moved yet? She didn't seem to be under the effect of the spray again, and he could easily give her another dose, but he had no intentions of letting her build up any sort of tolerance to it. If that was even possible. Was she readying herself for something bigger? He didn't want to see bigger. “I beg to differ, considering you’re sitting in an establishment that I happen to be in as well, trashing the place I have to clean. I think that makes it my business.” He didn't follow her logic, his business with one vamp didn't mean it was her business just because they happened to suffer from the same undead problems. He didn't think he could be the only one to blame for the mess that was all over the place, considering that it was mostly bodies that he had no hand in killing in the first place. He was talented, but not that talented. They mostly did it to themselves, but of course she wouldn't accept that. She no doubt couldn't see them for the murderers that they so obviously were. “Please, inform me of how that will help you get out. The way I see it, the easiest way you have to open that door is with me,” She really must be less intelligent than she looked, obviously if he blasted her through the wall, then he could just head out the hole that her body left. However, she wasn't wrong, since technically that would mean that she still was the best option, just not in the way that she thought that it was.

Oh, if only Stavros knew how he was helping him at this very moment. Of course, Ashton was never going to tell the man that he had been helped in any single way. The man would never let him forget it, that was for certain. If he had managed to judge the couple's level of affection to one another from Gringotts and the strange looks that Stavros gave whenever mentioning a significant other, then Keara had to be livid right about now. It was almost ironic, how judgmental Stavros was over his own choice in female company, how much of a 'betrayal' it was to the ministry, and Stavros' own department, whenever he was essentially doing the same damn thing. Whenever her eyes narrowed, however slight that it was, his mind did a fist pump of victory. It had to be bothering her more than the slight external show that she was letting herself display. If only he could see what it was that she was thinking, he could only assume it was wonderful and spiteful. “Little boy, you are playing a game you really do not want to be in.” his jaw clenched. Little Boy? He had no idea how old she actually was, but he was sure in mortal years he was older. He could feel it. He didn't like being condescended to. “Presumptuous.” he found himself stating simply, she really had no idea of his character. It took no time for her to perk her head up at his alternative option. “I’m sorry, my friend?” he nodded fractionally. She really didn't seem to understand. Oh, if he could play this little bit right, he really would be in for something special. If he could walk out of here with not only the coven leader, but also Centara's whereabouts and information?

“If you’re meaning her, then you are mistaken. Because I believe I already said you could leave with her.” She was really starting to irritate him more than normal. He already knew she was stupid, but this stupid? It was sad. “Don't play ignorant” he spat. She had been good company before, she needed to get her act together as far as he was concerned. “So you best be on your way with her before I change my mind.” enough was enough. He was sick of her antics, and her general existence. Of course, it seemed that she had the exact same idea. Before he knew it, she moved and the next moment, his prisoner was headless. Pointless, he could always find another link. It was just time consuming. What were her motives behind it? He saw her move to the door, cracking open only slightly to let him out. She was really avoiding the issue here, and he wasn't about to give up now. The more than she wanted him to leave, the more he wanted to stay. There was no way that he was going to be leaving this place empty handed. She was going to have to give up something in the stead of the one that she had just stolen from him. “Alacrancer” he seethed, watching as the opaque jet of light shot out of his wand, and led on in a continual stream for a good few minutes. The purpose of the spell was to cause various cancers to hit her body in random phases and stages until the spell was finished. Of course, he had no idea the effect it was going to have on the undead. He knew that it was supposed to kill humans only a few hours after it was cast. It wasn't the first time that he had cast it, but he had only done so a handful of times before, and never on a human. He knew that the supernatural had gifted healing abilities. He had seen first hand what happened whenever a human had to go through cancer, it had claimed his wife after all. He knew how painful it was, how hard to watch. He could only imagine what it felt like. He only used it on those he despised, and in this very moment. That was Keara. “then you can come with me” he let the spell abate, if only temporarily, he wanted to see what effect it had on her, if nothing, the spray was ready to go. He just needed to keep the door open somehow. “I'm not going empty handed. But you know that by now”

[Keara Sonnet]

“Presumptuous.” It wasn’t the first time someone had used that word, or a form of its meaning, to describe Keara. In nearly every scenario she found herself in, she seemed to have a problem not acting overly cocky. It happened when you were older than the bulk of the population, living or dead. She couldn’t deny it, either. Against a human, vampire would always win out. But it also wasn’t her style to flaunt it. Ashton was a rare case. She had to act arrogant if it meant leading him away from everything he was hinting at. Using Tristan against her; finding out the secrets of the Austrian coven; finding the true leader of said coven. All were things he didn’t need to be sticking his nose into but she wasn’t going to risk everything she had to keep him from it. So if she could avoid the conversations all together, she would do whatever necessary, even if it meant going against his new fandangled weapons. He was able to immobilize her for a short amount of time with whatever he tainted his blood with, but if she didn’t bite him again, she was safe from that bit. The bottle he still held in his hand with the spray was another thing. To avoid that, she would have to get it away from him and that would be more difficult. Luckily, that spray wasn’t going to do much good to keep her away, though. Sure, it hurt, but it was nothing she couldn’t push through to kill him. A moment of searing pain to tear his heart out, then as much time as she needed to recover. There were certainly more things out there for her to be concerned with.

Fortunately, with how quickly she had moved, he wasn’t able to use said spray on her. Instead, he stood there, looking at the decaying body of the clan leader. Or pathetic excuse for one. The old hag had taken an oath to protect her clan but was so easily going to give them up? Part of Keara wondered if she had mistaken the look she had gotten from the bitter old woman, but Keara was a pretty good judge of vampire character. There was no intention in that woman’s glare of protecting those she ruled over. They were her pawns in this chess game, meant to protect the queen. The queen did not protect the pawns. Damn vampires and their screwed up loyalties. It made her despise being one herself. It was so much easier to let people know up front that she would protect herself over all others. Keara hoped the look she saw on his face was him dumbfounded, being tricked by her being able to move despite her staying still for so long, but something told her it was more along the lines of frustration. If he had really been here just for the woman, she had just taken that away from him. However, if the purpose was to get information, he unfortunately already knew where he could get it and was taunting Keara with that fact. If anything, killing the clan leader was probably going to put her even deeper into this mess, but that thought hadn’t crossed until the damage had already been done. The revelation of her actions did not pass her features, however. She allowed herself to stay calm. She would get out of this one way or another.

As she moved towards the door and cracked it open for him, she imagined he was going to take the first opportunity to get out of dodge. Most sensible humans would do just that when stuck in a room with a vengeful vampire who would otherwise want you dead, but her lack of knowledge of his character proved her wrong. He didn’t care that she was angry enough to kill him. He wanted his information and now that she had removed the only other source to gather it, she was now his target. When his wand moved in her direction, she flinched but stood her ground. Most spells couldn’t affect her enough to cause much damage, so she was taking the chance that he wouldn’t know if it did or not. It was about the only thing she could think to do but attack him head on. If she was right, he would only be able to defend with that spray but, thus far, she had been wrong on too many occasions to take the chance of him not having any other surprises up his sleeves. Plus, if he really did only have that one line of defense, she couldn’t imagine him not taking the first way out of this. There had to be something else to protect him. She really needed to get better at reading humans and maybe she would put herself in stupid situations such as this one.

“Alacrancer.” Spells had never been Keara’s strong suit so when the jet of light hit her, she hadn’t known what to expect. Maybe a burst of pain like the cruciatus curse, or maybe even gaping wounds like diffindo. Even getting pushed against the door that she was holding open. Granted, that wouldn’t be in his favor since it would cause it to shut. But what she got was… well, nothing. She felt it hit her, only a light touch almost, but it seemed as if it did nothing. Her eyes went down to the jet that was still headed in her direction then up to him. Chuckling softly, she shook her head and was about to say something when her stomach began to feel strangely different. Her hand that was on the door handle gripped it a little harder. For a moment, she felt a pinch, but then the pain began to expand. Without warning, she felt the strong urge to puke. Her hand went to her mouth and covered it as she resisted the urge to allow her dinner to come up. She already had enough to clean in the room, she didn’t need to add to it. She made an attempt to go at him to make whatever he had done stop, but she felt like the moment she did move, she wouldn’t be able to hold back the vomiting feeling she had. It was a waiting game to see when it would end and when she could strike. The small amount pain lasted for a minute before it was gone, taking the urge to lose her dinner with it. For a few moments she didn’t move, only looking at him with a glare as she tried to piece together what he had just done. Whatever it was, her body hadn’t taken kindly to it and fixed the problem. Though she still felt like something else was going on inside of her, she couldn’t help but chuckle at the feeble attempt. Lowering her hand from her mouth, she smirked.

“Please tell me that’s not all you have in store? Pathetic,” she incited. He didn’t look overly pleased with himself, which she imagined meant he hadn’t done exactly what he had wanted, but then she realized the spell hadn’t ended yet. His wand was still pointed her way but the jet of light was gone, yet she could still feel something stirring inside. Her expression became serious as she made an attempt to attack him again, but just as her foot began to move, her vision blurred. Suddenly the room had become only a blurry figment of what it had been. “Then you can come with me.” Looking down at her hands, she realized not only could she only make out outlines, suddenly there was two of everything. Unable to see what she was attacking, Keara stopped short, gritting her teeth. She used the palms of her hands to rub her eyes, hoping it would help but the moment she pressed them into her eyes, the pain began. She wasn’t sure if it had been her that had caused it or if it was a progression, but it started as a dull thud behind her eyes, no worse than the pain in her stomach. “I'm not going empty handed. But you know that by now.” “Not going to happen,” she growled, her hands moving away from her eyes to avoid causing more pain.

Gradually the dull thud became more of a sharp pain and began to make its way deeper until her entire head felt like someone had kicked in her skull. Her eyes opened, attempting to see if he had moved and done something else to her but her vision only allowed her to see shadows. From what she could make out, he and his double were still standing in the same spot. Get out, damnit! Move! she thought to herself, about to feel out the door and get out of the room to find some sort of safety in the other supernaturals outside; but before she had the chance, the pain in her head grew. Her hands rose to her forehead and pressed into her temples but it didn’t help. Soon her fingers were wrapping themselves around her hair as she stifled a scream. No longer did it feel like someone had kicked in her head. It felt like someone was now standing on her head and slowly crushing it. Vampire or not, she couldn’t get away from the pain and it felt like no matter if she left the room or not, there was no way to stop it. He had her right where he wanted her, and there wasn’t much she could do about it until her body’s healing caught up to the spell.

But then the pain left just as quickly as the previous pain had. As her eyes opened, she could finally see the details of the room as sharply as normal. That was when she realized she was doubled up on the floor. She was kneeling, her elbows nearly touching the floor with her fingers laced through her hair. With no recollection of how she got there and no intention of staying there, she carefully unlaced her fingers from her locks and let them fall back against her shoulders, as straight and silky as they had been that morning when she had gotten ready. Biting on her tongue, she looked up at Ashton, noticing his wand was still pointed at her. How had he done that? Most spells, from what she knew, ended once the user stopped casting the spell. How had he inflicted any damage even after the spell was done? “It will take a lot more than that for me to go anywhere with you, kid,” she mocked, placing her hands on her thighs as she attempted to push herself up. As she started to stand up, the room began to spin. For a moment she thought he had hit her with the spell again but she realized it was the after effects. Whatever he had done wasn’t finished yet. Her body had yet to completely heal. As a result, she lost her balance and crashed back down onto her knees, her hands catching herself before she could fall flat on her face. You have to end this now before he can do anything else. Her thoughts were great suggestions, but her body didn’t exactly know how to comply so she did the only thing she could think of and lunged at him from the ground. Luckily her vision was no longer doubled so she knew which version of him to attack, but the moment she moved, the room began to spin.

She managed to collide with his body but lost her balance again. This time she couldn’t catch herself and went crashing into a body on the floor, unsure of where he had gone now that she had hit him. Had she even knocked him over? Was it his body she had collided with when she landed or was it on of the other victims of this night? She could only hear herself thud against the ground so she wasn’t sure of the answer to either question. He was only human and could only withstand so much pressure before his balance would give way so she imagined he had gone down. Then again, he had managed to prove her wrong multiple times already. So she was forced to lift herself onto her hands and knees and wait for the room to settle again before she could make another move on him.

[Ashton Wentworth]

Ashton could only imagine the different ways that she was conjuring up to kill him. Letting her imagination run wild, doing unspeakable things to his corpse that he could only imagine. NO doubt she had done it before, to countless men. Mortals must mean almost nothing to her. Except for a certain greek one it seemed. Outside of that exception, he was sure that they were only things to be toyed with, using her wiles to get what she wanted. He couldn't let that happen to him. Not that he was afraid of dying, but he had things to live for now. Even if he didn't like to admit it to himself. He was so close to finding out what he needed to know about this whole coven thing, and she wasn't going to stop him. If he had managed to survive the massacre that had taken place not even half an hour ago, he could take her on. She was just one undead woman after all. How tough could it really be? He could feel himself weighting the options in his mind, internally pepping himself up for whatever she was going to dish at him next. It was going to be quick, that was a given. He could already feel himself lifting to the balls of his feet, just in case. If she had hoped to get out of this skot free, she shouldn't have killed the bag of information that he had come here for in the first place. It wasn't exactly easy, or fun, to break into this place, and it had taken a lot of planning. All to be undone by some slip of a woman? She should have just let him take the woman and get whatever information that he could have before setting her out in the sunlight. Well, that would have been what he had liked to do, not what the ministry would have allowed him to do. The press would have had too much of a field day with that one. He already had that annoying puss Griesser snooping around his floor from time to time, looking for leads.

Now Keara was all that he had.

He had to make it worth it. Somehow, he needed to justify all of the effort that he had put through getting here, doing all of the things that he had. He had taken a large risk with his spell, assuming that it would hurt her at least a little. Enough for him to get his point across. It almost seemed to do nothing, at least that was what her face was, assuming that vampire emotions were the same as humans. Yet, whenever the smile melted off of her face, seeing it disappear into concern, it was highly satisfying. Her discomfort was over as quickly as it had come it seemed, which didn't instill much confidence in his charms work, which was normally spot on. Things were so much easier with werewolves, at least they were still living. Part of them was still human. Not like this bag of blood and bones in front of him. “Please tell me that’s not all you have in store? Pathetic,” He didn't know what to say, normally this would have been where his arrogant boasts would have come in, about how the humans weren't as worthless as she seemed to think that they were, or something else even more witty, but he was almost nervous. For the first time since he had entered the building, but then she stuttered. It was brief, like one might look after the onslaught of a sudden migraine. “Not going to happen,” Her voice sounded off, not quite as sure of herself as she had been moments before. Something was wrong with her, the spell just might have worked after all. A sliver of hope, almost masked by his own excitement shone in his eyes, the outward corners of his lips started to turn upward into a smirk. Something was happening. She was strong, but she couldn't hide everything. Her hands rose to her head, she was shaking. Just a slight tremble. If she were living, he would think she had gotten very, very cold.

Feeling emboldened, he sidestepped in front of her to the door, allowing it to close, blocking the pair of them into the room once more. He still needed her, and at least now he knew something that would really hurt. He could only imagine that if he were to spray her again, what might happen with the combination. He just had to hope that her body wouldn't catch on, that the various types and stages of cancer now coursing through her body, knocking out any of the blood that she had consumed in the past week, devouring all of the red blood cells. After all, that was the worst part of cancer, that it makes the body loose it's ability to heal anything. He could remember Georgie toward the end, covered in disgusting bruises the size of bludgers, her skin hardly covering her used and rapidly collapsing veins. Now Keara would share some of that pain, a long held need for vengeance that he didn't even know that he still harbored. All of the anger that he still had for his suicidal wife, displayed in the body slowly crumbling in front of him. It was strange, how good it felt. He should have felt guilty for inflicting another person pain, but he couldn't think of anybody more deserving than the wench in front of him. Seeing the effect grow, and linger for a moment after he had stopped the spell almost made him want to cast it again, to see her confusion cross her face as she tried to place just what he had really done to her. To watch her hurt. But he didn't.

The room was starting to smell. He must have been in here longer than he thought. He hadn't noticed the blood coagulating on the floor, the body parts stuck to the drapes, but it hit him that he really didn't like being in here. Much less now that Keara was bound to lung at him again. His attention shifted for just a second, to the strange mass of fur and skin clinging to the card table that he hadn't felt important until now. Who was going to clean all this? He would have just detonated the room. Maybe her typed liked a room with 'history' events like this, that ever lingering smell of blood that couldn't quite be scrubbed out. It made him sick to think that tomorrow another group of freaks could be sitting in this room playing cards like he had been hours ago. “It will take a lot more than that for me to go anywhere with you, kid,” Maybe she was so bitter because she was the one that was going to have to clean all of this up. That made sense. If it were true, he would take great pleasure in laughing at the mental image of her mopping up the blood pooled around her body, now caked into her clothing from where she had been kneeling. He was starting to become very aware of the blood on his own body, making his skin feel tight, like he needed to shed a layer or two. Perhaps take an acid decontamination shower. He put no stock in her words. He should have cuffed her while she was on the floor, sent another spell to render her unconscious while she was in pain. It would have been the perfect opportunity to reach into his pocket and inject the serum into her spine. Only he hadn't thought of that at the time. Idiot.

No. The real idiot move was when he allowed her to lung at him. He had figured her healing rate was slower, or that his charm was stronger. Either way he felt her oddly solid body connect with his, his feet slipping out from underneath him, sliding easily in the sticky blood. He hit the ground hard, knocking the wind out of him for a good moment as she fell to the side. If he was lucky, she was going to attempt to drink from him again, and knock herself out. He doubted that she was really that stupid, but he could hope. He managed to scramble away from her, and grab his wand again, though it too was now coated in a slippery blood mixture. His stomach was only so strong. He needed to get what he came from, and get out of here. “Guess not” he stated, sounding a lot more confidant than he actually felt. She needed to stop calling him kid. “Ready to give me what I want? Or do you need another dose?” He managed to steady his grip, and point his wand at her once more, though he couldn't seem to get his feet solidly under him, the floor was too unstable. “If you don't, your boyfriend will pay for it” perhaps he could get her talking until his breathing returned to normal, she seemed to get upset enough the first time he mentioned Stavros.

[Keara Sonnet]

Keara cringed her eyes shut as she tried to steady the world but it seemed like the more everything stopped spinning, the worse she felt. As her eyes opened, the room was crisp and clean lines. Whatever he had done, her body had fixed, but not without recourse. Her body was significantly weaker with how much it had to put out to fix whatever spell he had cast, not to mention ridding herself of the effects of his blood and that spray. But something was wrong. She was literally starved. Her body was crying for her to bite him, to drain him of every drop of blood. No amount of healing ever made her this weak, especially since she had fed earlier. Her body was in good condition when she had entered. What had he done? Though she was covered in blood at this point, it wasn’t her own. She hadn’t been bleeding out all over the floor. Instead, the blood soaked carpet and clothing was due to the blood Ashton had spilled from the werewolves and vampires. So since the blood wasn’t hers that meant what was in her system had to go somewhere. Had the spell just dried her up? If so, he was smart. Blood was really the ultimate requirement for a vampire to physically operate. The body used blood to keep going. Without blood, a vampire would just be condemned to wither away and become a dried up corpse. It was a fate worse than death; to be there, able to see and hear what was going on in your immediate vicinity, but unable to move even your smallest toe. She had heard rumors that the hungrier a vampire became, the more they could smell blood. She had even heard that a vampire in the nearly comatose state of starvation could smell blood for the next fifty miles. She could confirm those rumors.

Never before had she ever been this hungry and never before could she smell human blood this strong. It was nearly debilitating to smell him across the room, to know the exact location where he was before her eyes fell on him. Her eyes were now pitch black, her skin crawling with the same color as her fangs began to brush up against her lips. Images flashed through her head of her fangs sinking into his neck, hitting the vital vein that would allow it to flow right into her mouth without a drop being lost. Or maybe even going for the wrist. She had done each so many times it wouldn’t be a problem. The thought of filling her starving body made a grin creep across her lips as sat up onto her knees. All knowledge of his blood being like acid wiped from her head as the bloodlust took over. Though she was an older vampire, she was not immune to the effects of her cravings. His wand raised in her direction didn’t even cause her to falter. “Guess not. Ready to give me what I want? Or do you need another dose?” Keara’s eyes narrowed as a low, hardly audible hiss escaped her lips. “If you don't, your boyfriend will pay for it.” Between the bloodlust and her anger of Ashton even speaking Tristan’s name (mostly the bloodlust), Keara couldn’t hold herself back. She leaned forward on her toes and within the second, was in the same position right in front of him, her hand wrapped around his wrist and squeezing it just tight enough to cause his muscles to recoil and his wand to drop from his hand. Her other hand proceeded to his neck but as she attempted the same hold as she had earlier, she realized her muscles were already feeling the effects of the blood loss. Her hands weren’t able to grip both his neck and his hand at the same time. Her body was failing quickly and moving so quickly didn’t help matters any.

Keara’s mouth became slightly ajar as the pearly white fangs became more piercingly long. She wanted to drain him. To get every ounce of blood from his veins. To stop the hurt that was digging inside of her and causing this weakness. As her fangs drifted towards his neck, what was left of her senses stopped her. Some part of her remembered the mistake she had made the last time she had bitten into his neck. Drained of blood or not, biting into him would only make her problems worse. Her body would use whatever was left to fight off whatever tainted his blood and then she would be in an even worse condition than if she had drank his blood. But she was just so damn thirsty. Just one bite, she thought to herself, moving forward only a half an inch before her mind fought herself off again, this time dropping her hold on him and moving to the farthest point in the room she could. She was suddenly in the corner of the room, pressed as far into the wall as she could get, but yet it couldn’t be far enough. Her hunger for him was more than she was sure she could handle. If she attacked him, things would only get worse. She needed fresh blood, blood that was not tainted. She would have to make it out into the club for that to the bar, but chances were she wouldn’t make it very far and a weak vampire was a dead one when it was this close to the full moon no matter how much of a friend you were to others.

Gritting her teeth together, she tried to figure out any other options when her eyes fell upon the fallen minibar a foot in front of her. It was her last shot to keep from going after him. It was the last option she had. Diving down onto her knees, she lifted the bar with a bit of a struggle to find that every bottle was liquor. The vampires had taken every bottle of fresh blood that had been there. Her eyes travelled up to Ashton. She was slowing down. Her last move to get away from him had taken nearly everything she had left and now, she was so weak she was sure just keeping away from him was going to be a problem. For the first time in decades, Keara Sonnet was defenseless and facing sure death.

[Ashton Wentworth]

Assuming that Ashton made it out of this room alive, there really was no bad ending to this scenario. If he made it out, he was either going to make sure that Stavros was fired, or at the very least kept out of the Auror department once and for all. Both would be a win in his book. If If Keara nobled up and attempted to save her pathetic lump of a boyfriend, then he would be leaving here with information valuable enough to earn him quite the pay bump. There was no doubt in his mind about that. Sure, she could beat him or break some bones, but honestly, what bones hadn't he broken by this point in his life? He had been in more fights that he could even remember, and most of the medical staff knew him by name, and not in a good way. He was no stranger to pain, it would be gone eventually. From his vantage point on the ground, he could see that the playing field was slowly being evened. The Ministry wouldn't have spent so much time and money training him how to handle these sorts of situations for nothing. He wasn't always the most attentive student, but this, he knew how to do. The stench in this room was starting to make his head spin, or was it the lack of oxygen left in his system? There was no way of telling. She seemed to be hurting as badly as he was, which was another unexpected surprise. Keara in pain was more than he could ask for at this point. There was a crazed look in her eyes, not unlike the one she had gotten whenever he had sprayed her in the first place. His eyes rolled lazily over to the bottle still resting in his palm. There wasn't much left...was she really going to attempt to bite him again? Had his spell damaged her brain? Small black veins were starting to appear from the bottoms of her eyes and down her cheeks. He wasn't panicking, yet.

Though, if those little marks on her face continued to spread, he was going to be in trouble. Just how desperate was she willing to be in order to get what she wanted? She had already killed his only lead, was she going to tear him to pieces just on principal? It was starting to look that way. There was some strange noises being leaked through her pursed lips, like guttural whining, the sound a cat makes whenever it's stalking something. Was she doing it on purpose? It was all that Ashton could do to keep a neutral face, he needed to get up, at least have a fighting chance. He had hardly blinked, let alone attempt to get to his feet before she was directly in front of him. He could smell the rancid blood on her breath, see the small singe marks on her face from the spray that were healing at a slower rate than normal. He jolted backward in reflex, his head hitting the wall behind him once again. Thank Merlin she had thrown him on one of the padded surfaces. How many fights had she really gotten into over the years? Let alone with somebody who was almost an even match for her? His hand was stolen from him, the bottle falling loose and rolling across the floor until the sticky blood stopped it in it's path, well out of his reach. He could feel her fingers squeezing, his own curling against their will. The blood was draining from his limb, his hand turning pale and sickly in a matter of moments. The tendons were screaming to be released but he didn't say a word. His lips were pursed, anybody would know that he wasn't going to just get away from this one. She was going to splinter bone in a moment. He was too distracted, he didn't even notice her hand on his neck until it forced his head in a different direction than what he wanted to be in. A long moment passed, wondering what her next move was going to be, and he could feel her grip lessening slowly, not much, but he could feel it. Blood was returning to his own starved hand. His brain was screaming at him to move, to knock her over, to shove his wand through her rib cage if he thought that he could manage it, and yet he didn't move.

His expression turned to one of confusion whenever she finally dove away from him. His body reacted before his mind had time to process whatever it was that was happening. He lunged forward for his wand, stumbling over his own exhausted legs as he fumbled for his wand. He wasn't sure what he was trying to do with it, but he knew that he had to keep her from whatever it was that she wanted from her. If she got it, it surely wouldn't end well. After she had pulled the door off of the mini fridge, his brain caught up with his body, and he shouted a blasting jinx at the mini fridge, moving it away from her with a jet of light. She didn't seem as put out by his move as he had hoped, he guessed she didn't actually want anything from in there after all. She seemed to be fading quickly, his spell must have worked after all. It seemed that her body wasn't healing the tumors that were obviously still there under her skin. She looked...sallow. It wasn't a good look for her, and it was bringing back horrible memories. Pushing himself to his knees he half walked, half slide toward her. “Are you ready to talk now?” He wheezed, his chest almost recovered now. She looked so desperate, he didn't want to get too close to her, not with her face looking like that. Swallowing hard he waited for a response, but only seemed to get an eye roll in his direction. It wasn't that he was concerned for her health, he really wouldn't have cared if she died or not, if it weren't for the fact that he needed the information that she had in her head. “Tell me what I want to know, and I might consider saving you. Or don't, and die. Your choice”

[Keara Sonnet]

As the seconds passed, her mouth grew more dry, her throat was scorching, and her body felt like it was going to wither away. Keara was at a complete loss as to why this was happening. She had been starved before, decades ago when she had tried to go without blood to see what would happen. Other vampires had warned her that she would become motionless with decay, but she had done it just to see how it felt. It had taken her two weeks to get to the stage she was at now. In those two weeks, she had been tortured by her thirst and after she realized they were not lying about what she would become, it had taken her two days to get back to her full potential. Two weeks’ time to become a frail vampire, yet he had managed it in under an hour? As she realized her savior would not be located within the mini-bar that she had restocked hours ago with bottles and bottles of freshly imported blood, Keara had a sinking feeling she had reached the end of the line. Everything she had done had put him in control. She had played with him too much, toyed with him. Had she snapped his neck when he first threatened her and Tristan, all would be fine. She would be cleaning up this mess right now instead of mopping it up with her knees as she crawled across the floor. Though she would have had to deal with the repercussions of killing a Ministry member, she would have been able to deal with them far better than she could right now.

But she had given him too much room to act. She had allowed him far too much time with that wand and, after everything, had placed him in the prime position. He was blocking her only escape out of the room, an escape he couldn’t dream of having. He couldn’t budge that door handle, only she could. But, she couldn’t get up the strength to hold him down moments before, what made her think she could get past him and out into the club? Even if she did, the werewolves around her would realize just how weak she was and take complete advantage of it. Though she was respected for her position amongst Der Keller and all of the things she did to protect them, no werewolf would deny the rush of killing a vampire her age. There was also no doubt in her mind that any of the other vampires would stand in their way. It was kill or be killed in their world, and Keara was on the wrong side of the line this time. If only there had been something that could have helped her, but even if she had missed a bottle, Ashton shot it out of her way. The bottles of whiskey and vodka left inside all shattered as it slid across the room and hit the side wall. Anything left in there was now spoiled goods. Her eyes shot to him as he pointed his wand in her direction. She had managed to rid him of that horrid spray he had used on her, but his wand seemed to be the most of her worries. Whatever spell he had hit her with had caused her body to use every last ounce of blood she had consumed in the past few weeks. It had been a strong enough spell to cause her body to heal time and time again, a process that required the red liquid to flow through her veins. Without it, her body was unable to function. Her body was starving and she could feel the tremors of thirst flowing through her, or maybe it was tremors leftover from the spell. She couldn’t be sure. All she knew was her body was taking any trace of blood out of her it could find and, unfortunately, there wasn’t much left within her small frame. She was depleted, and that meant she was well on her way to petrifying.

Cringing at the thought, she placed a hand on the ground and shifted off her knees and onto her butt with a thud. It was more comfortable. At least if she did petrify, it would be in a decent position. Her eyes focused on the ground as she tried to keep as still as possible, yearning it might slow the process and maybe her body could find whatever it needed to heal, but she wasn’t hopeful. “Are you ready to talk now?” Her eyes rolled up to him lazily. What did he want from her? She wasn’t that knowledge filled. She knew what she needed to know and left it at that. Knowing less meant you weren’t responsible to keep secrets. Keara always preferred it that way. “Tell me what I want to know, and I might consider saving you. Or don't, and die. Your choice.” Smirking softly, she rolled her head back and closed her eyes. “You think far too highly of me,” she muttered, her head rolling forward again as she let out a small cough, not even bothering to use her hand to cover her mouth. Her throat was dry and irritated. In her own head, it sounded like her voice had dropped an octave with how scratchy it felt but she figured it was probably only in her head. “My knowledge only extends so far.” Glancing backwards, she noticed she was close enough to the wall so she used her hands to push her the rest of the way until her back hit the wall. Sighing, she leaned backwards against it, setting her head against the wood. She felt absolutely pathetic. Moreso than when she had fought against Isis. How was she taken down so easily by a human? What did he have that was so effective against her kind? Or was it her own confidence that would be her downfall?

“Though, I have to admit, the prospect of dying to a kid like you does disgust me,” she added, attempting to swallow but realizing there was nothing there to swallow. Narrowing her eyes, she lifted one hand in a ‘what the hell’ gesture. “I doubt I’ll know anything you want to know, but what the hell, try me on for size.”