The Moonlit Hunt

Discovery

"Hey sweetheart"

I breathed a long, suffering sigh at the slurred words, eyes narrowing to slits as a callused hand slowly crept around my waist. Slowly, I spun in the man's embrace, eyes flicking up, down then back up his broad form. Blonde hair. Brown eyes. Slim waistline.

Your classic player. Obnoxious...and drunk. How did I know he was drunk? Two reasons.

One, he reeked of alcohol.

Two, no sane man would dare to approach me.

"Back it up... Sir," I muttered, an icy bite to the otherwise placid words. The man ignored me, instead tightening his grip on my waist, cutting off what little circulation I had left.

The chatter that once swelled in the bar dulled, eyes flicking over us, conversations morphing into hushed whispers. They itched for drama.

I gave a tight smile, head tilting.
"I said, back it up," I hissed, suppressed rage tainting my calm demeanor.

"Why would I do that?" He roughly tugged me closer to his body, "Don't be like that sweetheart. You know you want me."

I had a hard time restraining a growl, sucking in a breath and widening my tight smile. He tugged yet again. What a ballsy fellow.

I'm done with this nonsense.

Eyes locked onto his dreadfully smug face, my fingers flexed. Curled. Without warning my arm swung in a wide arc, balled up fist on a crash course for the man's face. My aim shone true.

Smack

The man's head snapped backward, arms flailing as he jerked backward like a puppet on a string. Jeers erupted around the room, bar-goers excited with the drama. I sighed and scowled at such pettiness, such excitement at seeing one of their own injured.

I flexed my fingers again, eyes sweeping across the crowd and back to the man. He regained his footing, a scowl twisting his face. His hand rose to his cheek, fingers tracing the surface of his skin before coming back sticky with crimson. He was almost shocked, pain turning to rage as his eyes locked with mine.

"Feisty one eh?" He rumbled, making a move to approach me once more. My patience for this man broke, and faster than his human senses could comprehend, I pulled one of my knives from my belt and had the foul man pinned to a wall, about to press the cold steel to his throat when I was conveniently interrupted by a third figure.

My brother slid between us, yellow-grey eyes much like mine glinting with amusement.

"Now, now children" Lazio began, inspecting his nails theatrically. I noticed as his eyes flicked upwards, scanning the crowd, making sure they were watching. He loved making a show.

"No need to fight, hey? There's a carrot out back, I mean, I know when I get hungry I can get violent!!"

Releasing the man abruptly, my hand rose to rub my nose, grimacing at the idiot I called a brother.

Can it, Lazio

The man didn't share Lazio's amusement, shocker, and moved forward with an arm outstretched to push Lazio to the side.

Lazio was much too absorbed in inspecting his nails, glancing up briefly at the man advancing, then back down at his nails. His eyes widened slightly, brain only just interpreting what his eyes had told him. I scoffed.

Late reaction much?

He edged to the side, watching in amusement as the man's hand swept nothing but air.