Watching the vampiress descend definitely put her on edge, those echoing words about having to actually fight now pulling back her free hand as she watched every minute detail of her enemy she could — so focused that she didn’t even notice the street growing darker. And hell, if anyone else had been around to witness this, she wouldn’t have noticed them either. Hunters were less careful about being seen if it meant killing one of their prey, but they were a secretive sort too. After all, who wanted the government showing up and locking you away while they tried to slay the very creature you'd been trained your whole life to kill? No one, that’s who. Not to mention the need to keep their own secrets hidden, especially with vampires having penetrated every level of high society and government.

What broke her concentration, though, was the shift in tone from the other woman. Lyselle’s eyes fluttered in shock. Was she... trying to make a truce? Did the ancient vampiress see Lyselle as a threat or was it… something else? Watching a vampire — of all things — hold her hands out as if trying to calm her like a feral cat was not something she had ever expected. In truth, she had never seen this type of behavior from any undead she had met before. Even when threatened, vampires would bargain or seduce before they’d ever attempt to soothe their opponent. Either from fear or the need to keep the heart pumping. Calming down their “food” went against their own nature. Was her sworn enemy playing some other game she couldn’t see?

Suspicion was natural. But then she remembered the man.

[indent][i]...but there was something in [i]'its'[/i] eyes that gave her pause. It felt different from the other hunts. It almost felt like the creature was hurting — almost like, in some sad, tragic way, it [b]wanted[/b] to [b]die[/b]. Why would evil want to die?[/i][/indent]
Lyselle struggled in that moment — to put on a brave face, to take advantage of the opening the vampiress was giving her — and instead began to doubt. It flashed across her features as her brows knitted gently before smoothing again.

[color=#9BA7C3][b]“L-Lyselle…”[/b][/color]

The name croaked out of her, and she instantly cleared her throat, surprised she had sounded like that. She should have been on complete edge, and yet she found herself relaxing. And then there it was again: the vampiress’ eyes. Why did they seem so… recognizable? As if she had dreamt of them a thousand times, even though she had never met this creature before tonight.

What was this strange familiarity?

In the back of her mind, she cursed herself for letting her guard down — even though it felt like she was utterly incapable of stopping it.