Nyaira ran a couple laps around the farmhouse before she came to a frustrated stop near the road. Watching for anyone leaving was all well and good... when you had more than one person to do it. In the short time it took to circle around, someone could have passed through. She needed a good vantage point to watch for anything out of place.
	Spotting a small grouping of trees within the property, she redirected her efforts toward climbing to the top, grumbling as she expertly avoided messing up her clothes or nails.
	[i]He owes me for this.[/i]

[center]*	*	*[/center]
	Victoria inhaled as he pulled her tighter. She snorted a humorless laugh at his order, panic already well ingrained in her, and glanced down as well as she could when she felt her feet lift from the ground.
	Luc, who had passed them, stopped and cocked his head in their general direction. He nonchalantly turned around, his hands clasped once more behind his straight back, giving him a royal appearance. Dark humor pulled his face into a smirk.
	“I know you’re ’ere, [i]jeune,[/i]” he called in a sickly-sweet voice. “You and your [i]sorcier.[/i] You’re wanted alive, if zat iz what worries you.” As quick as lightning, he lashed out with graceful swings that would make any martial arts master cry in joy, trying blindly to hit that which he could not see.