#d-files

Armand had been searching for a good while, trying to find the man who had fled from him on the rooftops only a few nights ago. There was no trace of him, he'd followed the scent for as long as he could, but even that had been fruitless. The man seemed to have disappeared after a time, getting his scent mixed into large crowds of humans so as to confuse him.

But finally, Armand thought he had a lead. This wasn't the same person, but he had a similar smell. Wild, animalistic, but also somewhat human. Another werewolf. He didn't know a lot about werewolves, and the information he'd tried to gather in the last few nights sounded like bullshit, much like much vampire lore that humans had was bullshit. But this one - he could get information from.

He figured that werewolves would know of other werewolves. Especially in the same city. He for one knew every single vampire that frequented New York. It was a territory thing, and he was fairly certain that werewolves would likely be just as territorial as vampires, right? Wolves protected territories. This one was young though, his power was no where near what Sam's had been. Armand was easily able to follow him from the rooftops.

Now he just had to get the boy alone somewhere. So he could question him. Find out where Sam was. And maybe something else about these werewolves. He glanced down at his phone as it vibrated. Marius. Again. He hit the button to ignore. Whatever Marius was trying to contact him about, it wasn't as important as this. He wanted to answer, to tell Marius all about these werewolves... except he didn't know anything! Except that they existed. No, he couldn't go to his Maker with just "I met a werewolf, his name was Sam". He had to have more.

Had to have more.

So he leapt to the next building, landing silently, and watched the young werewolf carefully...

He hadn't slept much the night before, not only because he was looking forward to meeting Thaddeus again but because he was heading into the lion's den at work. It had been nerve-wracking at first, but no one had looked twice at him and once he'd gotten to the practical bit of the job he'd forgotten how dangerous the situation could become if he was found out.  Time had gone by fast after that, leaving him with just enough time to go home for a shower and to change into his good pair of jeans and a black button-down.

Cole was just a few minutes late when rushing to the agreed-upon meeting place, trying desperately to tame his hair while running the last few steps up to the gate. He looked around hopefully once there, suddenly afraid the other man had stood him up. Or that he'd only imagined him and all those texts last night had been a dream. His hand pulled his phone out of his pocket before he could stop himself, checking the texts just to be sure.

He'd used longer than he had to before getting to Scotland, the fact that he had fucked up laying heavy on him. He couldn't remember the last time he'd stepped out of line when it came to his job. In his private life, it wasn't unheard of, but he never failed his people. He never broke the rules. Except for that one time when he'd committed genocide on a whole tribe, but that was so long ago.

The sight of Rian and Teskhamen's home was usually a happy thing for him, now it made his stomach twist. He even failed to notice the new barn when walking up the pathway to the house, his gaze firmly fixed on the front doors. For perhaps the first time since he'd started visiting the lads, he rang the doorbell. He didn't go so far as to wait for someone to open the door though, letting himself in and taking his shoes off, hanging his jacket.

He could hear Rian singing somewhere on the backside of the house, probably looking after his flowers and herbs. The doorbell didn't seem to register with the hybrid even if the little guy could hear a gnat smacking into a wall a mile away. Sam ran a large hand through his hair, getting stuck in his own tangles for a moment, grumbling as he moved in the direction of Teskhamen's workspace, nearly bumping into the man "oh...I....hey."

"I did something bad."

The music around him was thumping heavily at a volume that rattled his bones, the press of bodies was unsettling to him after a long stretch in the wilderness. The scent of sweat, alcohol, perfume, and lust felt so heavy he was sure it was seeping into his skin. While he despised human hangouts like the nightclub he was in, they were also excellent for business. Chaotic enough to throw people off his trail should they be stupid enough to follow him, and in some cases distracting enough that he didn't end up the target of the client should they be of a more shady sort. Which they usually were when dealing with forbidden, mystical artifacts.

That night's trade was a demonic dagger, meant for a specific demon. He was pretty sure the fallen he'd just handed it off to was in that creature's near family. Which was probably making it more morally wrong than usual, but he really couldn't bring himself to care. They would fuck off beyond the veil again and the murder would most likely never ripple back into his dimension, which meant he could trade off and move on.

Dark eyes stayed steadily on the beautiful male before him while the weapon was discreetly inspected, a moment later the fallen one pulled a small bag out if his breast pocket, handing it over. The exchange took all of three seconds, then the demon moved towards the exit while the werewolf pocketed the bag and stayed behind, ordering himself a shot of vodka. He downed the liquid, his eyes meeting another man's gaze across the room. Ahiga felt pretty sure the other male had just sliced his fangs into the writhing human in his arms "oh, great."

Santiago lounged quietly in the branches of the tree overlooking a cliffside that  gave way to an expansive forest below. He dangled one leg off of a branch, fiddling a bit with a nearby branch and slowly peeling off pieces of the leaves absently. He sat up slowly, hearing approaching footsteps and frowned. Who on earth would be up here this far away from any standard hiking trails. And it was certainly not merely an animal.

He extended his mind out away from his branch and smirked a bit. He wondered vaguely if the wolf was following him or if this was one hell of a coincidence. As the wolf came out of the treeline, he chucked a branch in his direction. "This spot is taken... move along, werewolf," he called out, peering at him through the darkness before dropping down to the ground the fifteen feet or so that he had been in the tree.

With a swagger, he took a few steps forward slowly, pausing a good twenty feet away from him. "You're not stalking me are you? I'd rather not get flambéed again if it's all the same. I've been on fire twice now in my life, and neither time was very fun..." He was just glad that he'd been able to find a few young vampires to rob of their blood in order to help himself heal quicker.

“When I’m nervous I have a bad habit of fidgeting. Turning something over and over in my hands, or tapping on surfaces. When I’m angry, I tend to be loud. I shout, or if I do not want to yell, I tend to walk with a heavier step or when I busy myself I might hit things together like pots or pans in a rather obnoxious way, or so I’ve been told by my Mate.” Teskhamen breaths for a moment.

[Text ] You’ve already seen me eat. I can pack it away with the best of them.

[Text] Why? Are you asking me out?