Victoria followed after Alex, her arms wrapping around her midsection as she, too, scanned the area. Anyone—any[i]thing[/i]—could be hiding anywhere. After all, that shadow beast had leapt out of nowhere. At the thought, her eyes darted to the nearest shadow in the thankfully deserted street, and she made an extra effort to give it more space than necessary.
	“Gee, thanks, Captain Obvious,” she said, her unease making her tone harsher than she intended. She took a deep breath, her gaze turning to the sidewalk at her feet. “Sorry,” she apologized softly. “I… I don’t care where. This is just better than sitting around an apartment waiting for Nyaira to show back up.” She hugged herself a little tighter.
[center][img]http://i.imgur.com/5CI0M6E.png?1[/img][/center]
	On the opposite side of the city, the early evening sun glinted on the shards of broken glass that hung onto window frames for dear life, and glittered on the many shattered bottles that littered the ground. Though the neighborhood had once been teeming with people, now it sat abandoned, vacant save for a single, decaying pub.
	Various bits of trash blew by the pub’s door like tumbleweeds in the gentle wind that had begun to sweep through that part of town. A worn sign that read “The Tipsy Ogre” creaked above the aged wood and cracked doorway of the entrance. 
	Inside, a large, burly man ten times too large for the seat he leaned back in had has feet resting on the bar counter as he snored loudly. Empty tables and booths dotted the scuffed floor and lined the walls. The lights, kept intentionally dim in hopes of hiding the peeling wallpaper and cracking walls beneath, shown dismally from a few strategically placed sconces and dusty lamps hanging from the ceiling.
	“ARGH!”
	The burly man startled into awareness with a loud snort. The chair creaked and threatened to break before he fell to the floor with a ground-shaking [i]thud.[i] The bottles lining the wall behind him rattled, a few coming dangerously close to falling from the shelves. 
	The bartender groggily pulled himself to his feet with aid from the bar’s counter as Luc slammed the door to the men’s bathroom open and stormed out. 
	“Oy!” the bartender complained, his voice impossibly deep and imposing. “This place not in bad enough shape for you?”
	“[i]Ceci imbécile femme![/i]” Luc snarled, a cellphone clutched tightly in his hand. It took all his willpower to keep from crushing it. “[i]Quelle était-elle pensant?![/i]”
	“Didn’t go well, I takes it?” The bartender smirked and straightened his chair, which had miraculously survived.
	Luc turned his snarl on the man, boring his fangs. Even in his rage, the perfection of his pale form made the rest of the bar look even more drab, as if, if the place had feelings, it would be embarrassed to be within a hundred yards of his presence.
	“Zat vacuous woman barged in on Illyad’s ‘ome. Alone,” he growled. 
	The bartender laughed as he sat back down in the chair, returned his feet to the counter, and crossed them at the ankles. He moved his thick arms over his chest, grinning despite Luc giving him another snarl. “Now [i]thats[/i] what I’d call stupid! Some choice you’ve made in a girlfriend!” His deep, boisterous laugh sounded through the room again.
	“I suggest you still your tongue,” Luc warned, his voice low and menacing as he neared the counter, “before I rip it out.”
	The threat only wetted the bartender’s amusement. He gave another, darker laugh and pulled his feet from the counter. “I ain’t the one who needs to watch his tongue, bloodsucker!” The man gave Luc a conceited grin as he stood. He placed both his meaty hands on the counter and leaned toward the vampire. The counter creaked under his weight, but did not cave. “You might be high on the food chain in your little world, but here? Here, you're playing with the big boys, little vamp. You've a ways to climb before [i]you[/i] get to talk to [i]me[/i] like that.”
	Anger flashed once more over Luc’s crimson eyes. But then, he blinked. Pulling himself to his full height to stand in all his regal glory, he stared at the bartender with a knowing look.
	“Of course, monsieur.” He gave a smile as dangerously sweet and mockingly compliant as his voice. “Do forgive me.”
	The bartender glared suspiciously down at Luc as he crossed his arms with a, “Humph.” He snorted. “So. The girl got away, did she?”
	“Yes,” Luc snapped murderously, his grip on the phone momentarily tightening.
	The bartender smirked. “[i]He[/i] won’t be very pleased to hear about this.”
	For the briefest moment, fear flashed through Luc’s eyes. “I will take care of zis. I [i]will[/i] get ‘im zee girl.”
	“Well, you’d better, Luc.” The bartender added an extra syllable to the end of the vampire’s name, making it sound more like an airy ‘Luca.’ “If he doesn’t… well.” He chuckled menacingly. “That won’t end good for anyone, will it?”