Partitione - R

[Rosabeth]

Rated R for profanity, sexual scenes, and violence.

Humans are not the only creatures that walk the streets of London, and the human world is not as alone as people might think. From the smoky mountains in which ogres scavenge, to the deep sea utopias of the water fae, there are a plethora of hidden destinations to be explored. However, the entrances to their lands weren’t constructed to be easily found, and only the lucky have found the golden doors to their most coveted childhood fantasies. However, not all fairy tales ended sweetly, and not all creatures are amiable.

Olivia Bates is a detective on the outskirts of London where a small, derelict coffee house-turned-precinct takes care of all of the city’s hottest mythical offenses. However, the young agent had never been prepared for one of the largest crimes of the year. In the capacity of five days, more than several dozen humans disappear, leading to an uproar. The precinct hires Dominic Foster, a dhampir (half human, half vampire), to lend his knowledge to the case after receiving reports of one body being discovered in the Thames River, completely drained of blood.

However, the pair soon realizes a few dead humans are the least of their problems when news seeps to the Consilium of the attacks, sending them into outrage. One side argues that mythical creatures should be eradicated from the human world entirely, returning to their home regions forever, while the other side refutes that humans could be useful to mythical creatures with stricter rules and stronger safety precautions. More than forty eight hours pass without word of an agreement before the Consilium divides themselves into two groups, a war on the forefront.

Can Olivia and Dominic stop the impending battle before it rips everything to shreds, or are they too destined to pick sides and take a stand?

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Dominic Foster - written by Rosabeth



Olivia Bates - written by Ange

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[Ange Keating]

Played by Jaimie Alexander

Olivia Bates

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26 years old

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Ehren was born in the ethereal, airy world of Himmel, comprised of the species fylgja. Upon birth, young, female babies were assigned to human hosts in which they would connect with and bring good fortunes through dreams. She had been assigned to Alexander Dmitriev, a dark-haired, blue-eyed boy, manifested into a lanky, awkward, failing author in the heart of London. After watching him maneuver through the human world for eighteen years, Ehren soon grew a fervent urge to visit the incredibly peculiar place. She knew her guardians would never approve, so she went quietly, spending three years in search for the hidden portal of Himmel, finally discovering it on her twenty first birthday. Ehren slipped through the gateway, soon transporting herself into the unfamiliar world in which she had always coveted.

Three months later, she changed her name to Olivia Bates before earning a job at a local book store while discreetly working as a private investigator for mythical affairs. After settling into her new world, Olivia gradually befriended Alexander after tracking him in the vivid city, the two having lived together since.

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[Rosabeth]

Played by Aidan Turner

Dominic Foster

27 years old

Dominic Foster can’t seem to get away from the Sabia coven, but they don’t particularly seem to want him either. Born a dhampir, a half-breed of a vampire and a human, Dom grew up surrounded by the other dhampirs bonded to the Sabia coven. It became quickly apparent that a dhampir’s place is in the service of their coven, protecting the vampires in exchange for protection against those who see the dhampirs as an unnatural breed, but Dom has never been one to follow orders. With the help of William, his father-figure and fellow skeptical dhampir, Dom has stayed as far from his coven as possible, blending in with the human world and rejecting those who have other plans for his life.

When he was 17, Dom started up a freelance computer help service. At least, that’s how he advertises. In between helping old women sort out their email accounts, Dom makes most of his money hacking high-security systems. Not one for roommates, Dom lives alone in his West-End flat, generally avoiding the dhampirs and vampires who come knocking, and spending his time overdosing on caffeine at a local café and getting carpal tunnel playing video games with his generally-frowned-upon human friends. That is, when he’s not forcefully roped into the Sabia’s conflicts. They can only be avoided for so long.

[/font]

[Ange Keating]

{name:Olivia#|#picture:53}

“I swear I could eat Thai food every day of my life,” Olivia mused before shoving a curry puff in her mouth and allowing the dipping sauce to leave a rather unattractive trail of mustard on her chin. This was their relationship; the utter inability to care about what they did or how they looked around the other. Hence the reason why Alexander was clad in a Doctor Who t-shirt that read, ’The Doctor will see you now’ with a brunette-haired in a suit and bow-tie splayed across the center, standing in front of a time machine. Not to mention, he was sporting the most obnoxious pair of bright red polka-dot pajama pants underneath.

Alexander had ordered the Spicy Thai Volcano, tofu (for his vegetarian tendencies), sitting on top of a high pile of white rice and mixed vegetables. He hadn’t touched it.

“And we share the same ridiculous obsession so why aren’t you eating?” she continued, pointing her fork threateningly in his direction as he stared blankly at the laptop screen. “Oh no, don’t tell me you just changed your stor—”
“I was getting bored of writing stalkerish vampires chasing after seventeen year old girls. S Meyer makes it look a whole lot easier than it is.”
“For the last time,” Olivia replied, dropping her paper box on the coffee table, “that’s plagiarism. Or a really bad fanfic. I can’t decide.”

Alexander was as awful as awful could be at writing, and in spite of his many attempts at trying to create a best seller, he had either a) ditched the idea before ever finishing, or b) had gotten far enough to realize it sucked terribly before trashing it. Olivia knew it was her responsibility to help him out, and she had genuinely tried to, but after willing almost every publisher in town to view his work, every meeting had ended with the standard 'I'll call you back', without actually calling back.

You’d think after being rejected so many times the man would realize how much writing wasn’t his calling, but Alexander didn’t seem to catch on, only throwing consistently horrible plot lines at her as she was forced to be the good best friend and nod encouragingly.

“Well I have a good feeling about this one,” he murmured, black-rimmed glasses propped up on his nose, a curly mess of onyx hair spilling across his forehead, “a really good feeling.”

It required every ounce of will power for Olivia not to roll her eyes in response. Christ, she would indulge him. “What is it?”

“Okay, are you ready for this?” His green eyes lit up, stubble prickling at his chin as he turned to completely face her.

Again, she forced a curious smile before nodding. “Ready!”

“Well, there’s this wizard, alright? Let’s call him Alfus Waldrun. Him and his friends, Cockroachus Mungdabrow and Esmeralda Spelding all attend Paranorman’s School of Witchcraft. Alfus is constantly trying to defeat the dark wizard Lord Corrianus—”

“Alexander, that’s Harry Potter.” Even though she had lived in this world only five years, she had picked up well enough on pop-culture, or at least British pop-culture, that was.

"No it isn't. I changed--"

"Changing the names won't make it yours, sweetheart."

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[Rosabeth]

{name:Dom#|#picture:54}

One could only stare at coding for so long before losing their mind. Dom was straddling that border. The room around him was pitch black except for the blue-tinted glow coming from his laptop screen, illuminating his face in the darkness. Half the time Dom forgot what the rest of his flat looked like, seeing as he saw it mostly in the dark. Saving his progress, Dom closed the laptop, taking away the last of the light. It only took a second for his eyes to adjust, and after that brief second he looked around as if the room was lit with fluorescent lights, just as light as the day. That was one perk of being half-vampire – it really cut down on the electricity bill.

Dom moved to the thick curtains, pulling them back in one quick movement, expecting a flood of daylight. It seemed, however, that he had greatly underestimated the time. It was just as dark outside as inside, though one could never really say London was dark, not with the thousands of street lamps and flat lights that lined every street. Dom gaped at the darkness, pulling out his phone in a last-ditch effort to convince himself that he was somehow hallucinating the time of day. Nope. 10:27. Shit.

Running around his flat like an idiot, picking up his jacket and keys as he stumbled around pulling on his shoes, Dom ran for the door. Generally he tried to keep his visits to William during the daytime. The more sun was out, the less likely the Sabia were to come knocking. Still, a promise was a promise, and William had already called three times today checking that Dom wasn’t going to flake in the last minute. Backing out now would just be cowardly.

Riding the tube always aggravated Dom, if only for the reason that he could probably run faster. However, displaying his powers in front of humans was generally frowned upon and would most likely give him a one-way ticket to jail, so Dom stepped onto the dirty train with a resigned sigh.

William lived in a large house just outside Canary Wharf. Well, large for London standards, that was. Most of the Sabia dhampirs lived together, if only for the convenience and economy. Dom had spent eighteen years in that hellhole and the moment his hacking had taken off he’d put all his money into a flat in Soho, putting some distance and a river between them. It continued to be the best decision he’d ever made. Even today, standing in front of the tall, thin brown house, Dom felt a wave of thankfulness that in a short hour or two he’d be gone, back to his dark, messy flat.

Dom didn’t even need to knock on the door, for the door was pulled open before he reached the top of the stairs.

“Dom, fancy seeing you here,” Emily grinned, leaning back against the door frame and grinning. Dom groaned, pushing past the short blonde.

“Really? I could care less to see you,” said Dom, stepping into the living room. Emily stuck out her tongue but retreated up the stairs without another word. Emily had been taken in several years after Dom, and ever since she’d been a real arse. If there was one person Dom wouldn’t mind pushing out a window it would be her.

“You showed!” William smiled, turning around in his chair and taking his eyes off whatever history special was running on the TV. From the looks of it World War II.

Dom smiled back, patting his friend on the shoulder and taking a seat on the couch. William was a tall, middle aged man with greying hair and a few wrinkles, but thanks to his dhampir blood his body still looked like that of a fit thirty-year old. To top it off, he was nearing 105.

“I got you something,” said William, picking a brown box off the ground and dropping it in Dom’s lap. Dom tore at the tape, pulling back the flaps and pulling out a mint condition F-Zero cartridge. Dom grinned, slapping William on the arm and turning the cartridge over in his hand. In the past few years he’d developed a soft spot for vintage Nintendo consoles. His friend Andrew said it was childish. Dom didn’t give a shit. Within a week of getting his SNES Andrew was sitting on the floor next to him, going through round after round of Mortal Kombat 2.

“Thanks, Will.”

“Dominic. Home at last.”

Dom almost fell off the couch. He hadn’t even heard them come in. When he looked up towards the door three Sabia vampires were standing in the entry way, all with creepy, insincere smiles plastered across their faces. The mythology people believed about vampires being beautiful and pale was 100% false. Dom had seen plenty of ugly vampires in his time, and the dark-skinned woman before him proved against the second count. Still, they all had several things in common. There weren’t any fat vampires – their metabolisms didn’t allow for it – and they were all really damn unsettling. To the average eye there was nothing too special about them, but to Dom’s eye, heightened by his dhampir senses, he could see the little details that set them apart. Sharpened canines, usually retracted in company of humans, eyes that started to look suspiciously animal-like if you stared too long, and a whole aura of weird.

“I’m not here for you, Daniel,” said Dom, shoving the game cartridge in his coat pocket and standing up from the coach. Daniel only shrugged, turning to Elle, the woman beside him, and handing her something Dom couldn’t see.

“We’re having a coven meeting with the Erete’s next Wednesday and we expect you to be there,” said Daniel, though it came out as more of an order than a suggestion.

“Don’t see why you need me,” Dom argued, though he knew it was useless. “Planning on killing them?”

“Perhaps,” Daniel grinned, Elle laughing under her breath. Dom rolled his eyes, sick of their games.

“Sorry, I’ve got plans. Plans known as work. I’m not your personal bodyguard.”

Before Dom could reach the door Daniel was there, placing his arm on the doorframe and blocking Dom’s way. “Actually,” he hissed, “I think you are.” Before Dom could protest, Daniel pushed back Dom’s coat collar, revealing the small mark at the nape of his neck, a diamond with a small square cross within. Dom slapped back Daniel’s hand, pushing his collar up again and concealing the mark. “You belong to us.”

Dom didn’t even get the chance to say goodbye to William as he tore out the front door.

[Ange Keating]

{name:Olivia#|#picture:53}

__

Olivia stuffed her frigid fingers in the deep pockets of her cardigan, the overwhelming scent of sea water infiltrating her nostrils. The quaint South Bank of London rested on the boating ports, along with numerous other attractions including the bookstore she worked in. After a taxing (yet therapeutic) day of sorting freshly delivered novels and helping others find the hottest new read, she slipped out of the back alley, a clear pathway in mind.

The directions to the firm was essentially a labyrinth of twisting roads that led into the quieter parts of the area, where cars hardly buzzed up and down the streets, the London Eye fading farther from vision. Instead, the pavement on which she walked was gradually falling apart, weeds snaking up through the tiny cracks in cement. Olivia’s movements were light though, gracefully stepping around each pothole and ditch as she moved down a lone block of shops, mostly comprised of small family-owned businesses, shut down for the night.

It was six PM, and yet her duties were just truly beginning. Olivia worked in the station on Mondays, Tuesdays, Wednesdays and Thursdays, often bullshitting Alexander with the excuse that she took a few of the old paperbacks from the store that were going to be trashed anyways to read on the boardwalk in silence for a few hours. Thankfully, the alibi had worked successfully, her dubious friend either tucked away in bed or slumped along his desk with his glasses thrown across his laptop, an abandoned cup of coffee residing next to his unconscious arm.

Today was no different as she approached a small, burgundy structure, ‘Mr. Bean’ etched in messy, painted letters along the brick with a sign containing specials leaning beside the door. Olivia hardly had to rap on the debilitated wood twice before it was swinging open, a tall, burly man about the size of the entrance, grinning down at her with large, brown eyes.

“Ehren,” he sighed, using her original name with a casual ease. “Come in.”

For a man that worked on keeping mythical affairs from arising, he always looked oddly casual, clad in a raggedy flannel that looked like it would burst from the seams, and long, somewhat professional khakis.

The inside was nothing special; to keep under the radar, the rustic coffee house operated regularly during the daylight hours from ten in the morning to five before shifting into what any normal human would consider a precinct for all things magical. Olivia had chosen not to work during the coffee house hours, in spite of the vast majority that did so, craving more than anything to live a low-profile, normal life for as long as she possibly could.

However, regardless of her urges to lead an ordinary existence, she knew this was far from possible. With the Consilium down her throat and a naturally-born urge to stay close to the people most genetically similar to her, breaking away seemed nearly impossible, and unlikely. Besides, it wasn’t always unbearable, when you knew people like Gary, at least.
“What can I get you, love? Coffee? Water? I know your kind enjoys their sweets.” A toothy grin stretched his features, sharpened canines sparkling against the dim lighting of the shop.
Olivia smiled in return, resting a hand lightly against his forearm. “Such a caring boss, you are. But I’m fine.”
He nodded in response, leading her past the bar and to another chipped entrance way, fingers curling around the rusty knob before pushing it open.

Rows of desks in neat columns lined the storage room, a plethora of creatures rushing about in a busied hurry. Olivia was used to the sight, but it seldom made it any less amusing when she saw elves standing on chairs to answer fax machines or rookie warlocks accidently blowing up their computers before repairing it again.

Fidelis soared through the sky from his metal cage before perching on Olivia’s shoulder, its deep, brown beak buried in her dark waves. She tried not to snicker, fingers reaching into her back pocket for a can or sardines before pealing back the metal cover and allowing the bird to terrorize the minuscule tin container. Olivia had always made it a ritual to bring food for the messenger creature.

“Fidelis loves it when you come over,” Gary mused, hands shoved in the pockets of his Levis, light blonde hair tousled carelessly. “You spoil him rotten.”

Olivia shrugged slightly, fingers raking gently along the bird’s vibrant, orange fur. “The mean man doesn’t feed you much, huh, Fidsy?”

The animal squawked loudly, causing a few wandering eyes to connect with the pair stood next to the door. Gary rolled his eyes. “Shouldn’t you be working by now? Times are always livelier around New Years which equates to more idiots trying to break the law. The Consilium has already been in a pretty shitty mood the last few months, we wouldn’t want to rock the boat.”

She waved the bird off, a groan flitting past her lips. “Don’t remind me. Three shape shifter boys were arrested two weeks ago for running around as lions in Belgravia.”

Gary arched an eyebrow, “Well, you have to admit that was just plain stupid.”

“They were nine and placed in a sublevel high security prison for a year. That’s ridiculous.”

“Unfortunately we can’t make the laws, love, but we can abide to them.”

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[Rosabeth]

{name:Dom#|#picture:54}

It was long past midnight but Dom hardly noticed, and judging by the mountain of energy drinks stacked into a neat pyramid beside the television it was no wonder why. Every Tuesday night Andrew and Dom met up at his flat for some drinks and mindless television, but ever since Luke had joined the picture several years ago the nights had slowly turned into centers of gaming madness. Dom slipped his phone back in his pocket, having reluctantly taken a late night call by one of his most neurotic, but well paying, customers. As he looked over at his friends, locked in on William's new gift and screaming well-meaning profanities at one another, Dom had to grin. It was a wonder they had never become friends, for the two men could not be more different.

Andrew was Dom's friend from secondary school, back when they played rugby together. He was short and stocky with muscles nearly oversized for his body. With pasty skin and short cropped red hair, he was the epitome of a stereotypical ginger. His voice was loud enough it always sounded like he was speaking into a microphone, and he swore more than anyone Dom had ever met. Somehow they'd become fast friends at fifteen, and ever since Andrew had remained blissfully unaware of Dom's vampire heritage.

Luke, on the other hand, was Andrew's opposite in nearly every way imaginable. As dark as Andrew was pale, Luke dwarfed them all in height, a factor only heightened by his bean-pole like body. He worked as a computer programmer for a small independent company, constantly trying to coerce Dom into taking a job with them and dropping his hacking, a skill Luke largely saw as a waste of talent. After meeting at a tech convention five years ago they'd instantly hit it off, and though initially Dom had had reservations on how Andrew and Luke would interact, they'd become unprecedentedly close. So much so, in fact, that it was rare to see one without the other these days.

"Fucking hell," Andrew groaned, throwing his controller down as, once again, Luke whipped him in a manner that was nearly embarrassing. Dom laughed, snatching the controller from the floor and forcing Andrew from his spot, ignoring his colorful insults.

"Some of the boys from work and I are going out for drinks tomorrow night? Either of you in?" Luke asked as the next game loaded.

"Sorry, I've got to work," said Dom, internally wincing at the thought of a night full of Mr. Norris' neuroticism.

Luke caught Dom's disappointment, shaking his head. "You could always come work with me. I've told you, they'd hire you in an instant with your skills."

Dom rolled his eyes. "Yeah, somehow I don't think that job is going to pay for this rent." He gestured around the room, catching Luke's shrug of defeat. One of the positives of less-than-legal work was that Dom could charge higher-than-necessary prices, the only way he could afford to live in the neighborhood he did.

"Sorry, Luke, but I've got a date," Andrew grinned, folding his arms and sinking back into Dom's couch. Luke and Dom both gaped, turning back to him in disbelief.

"You? A date?" said Dom, dodging as Andrew chucked an empty can at his head.

"Yeah, some of us can get them," Andrew quipped. "You know, you could get one too if you tried. You've got that weird dark, slightly grungy look women seem to like for some stupid reason. You haven't been with anyone since you and Margaux split a couple months ago. Don't you think it's time to move on?"

Andrew had hit a sensitive spot for Dom and knew it, looking away sheepishly as Dom turned back to the game wordlessly, all humor wiped from his face. He tried not to think of Margaux most days, but on the rare occasion he ran into her it still felt like a thousand daggers in his chest. It wasn't that they'd been particularly attached, for though he'd fancied her for quite a while it was fairly clear from the onset of their relationship that they weren't particularly compatible, but rather that their split had been less than pleasant.

Margaux worked as a server at Dom's favorite coffee shop when they first met. This allowed for Dom to steal glances at her without being overtly creepy, though anytime he thought of going in for a drink with the purpose of trying to work up the courage to talk to her he still felt a big strange. Eventually he'd asked her out in between ordering an espresso and a scone, and to his immense relief she'd said yes instead of kicking him out of the shop. Though they'd had very little in common, many of Dom's habits, not to mention his lifestyle, clashing with Margaux's sensibilities, they'd somehow got on relatively well.

One night, a few of Daniel's messenger's had appeared at Dom's door, demanding he come with them. The covern was in what was more or less a turf war with a rival coven, and once again Dom found himself being pulled in as an unwilling soldier. But Dom had been planning on spending the night with Margaux, and in a moment of idiocy had told the messenger's just that, if not with a bit more cursing. They'd left too peacefully to pass without suspicion, but Dom, in his frustration, hadn't seen the signs. Christ, he wished he would have.

Margaux never called that night. The next morning William called, sounding worn and distraught. Dom hurried over to his house, only to find the coven waiting for him, one new face among their mix - Margaux.

The image of her burned itself into Dom's mind that night, and he could not count the number of times he'd closed his eyes and seen in there, haunting him. She'd lifted one delicate hand and given him a small wave, grinning with her fangs bared. Aside from the subtle flash of red in her eyes under certain light, a detail most humans ever even saw, she looked essentially the same, but Dom's keen eyes could see every little piece that was off, every detail that was so very inhuman. And then she'd said "Sorry I couldn't make it last night, Dom," without ever dropping her grin and that had been the end of it.

The Sabia's message was clear - follow our rules and do as we say or we will take from you what you value most.

"Yeah," Dom muttered, forcing himself back into the present. "Yeah, I should probably do that." His words didn't convince anyone.

[Ange Keating]

{name:Olivia#|#picture:53}

After conversing quite passionately for several more minutes about why the Consilium was obviously flawed, Olivia made a move towards her desk just to be stopped by Sirius, a silver-haired Loki with startlingly jet black eyes. The Loki were known to be mysterious giants (although he was no taller than 6’5”) that had the ability to transform into a plethora of animals. However, in spite of the devilishly charming smirk that usually tugged at his thin lips, a frown creased his porcelain skin instead. Olivia felt that if she stared too long, he would shatter into a million pieces, like a marble statue.

“Sirius? What’s wrong?” Gary questioned, voice plagued with concern. It was seldom the Loki had exuded emotions other than delight and sarcasm.

“Another body has gone missing,” he confirmed, voice clipped and tight. From beneath his tightly-fitted armor resided thick chords of veins, all pushing up against the surface of his thin skin. Olivia couldn’t help but wince, although her jaw remained taut.

“Another?” she repeated, dark brows shooting upwards. Since last week, five bodies had fallen off the face of the radar, not a trace of evidence left behind. Olivia felt like the attacks were too eloquent, too complicated to possibly be facilitated by a human. Not even the most skilled criminal could consistently conceal their tracks, unless magic was involved.

Sirius only nodded, body slumping forward as he looked like he could topple over at any minute. If he were human, dark bags would have lined his eyes, creases from exhaustion folding against his otherwise flawless skin. There were some creatures that donated their entire lives and efforts to the Consilium, regardless of the fact that it gradually deteriorated them over time. That’s what she had partially feared for people like Sirius and Gary, who were so hell-bent on serving the government until their last dying breath.

“Christ,” Gary muttered, fists tightening against the denim of his jeans. “And there are no leads? Nothing?”

“None.” Sirius threw up his hands in exasperation, before knitting them on the top of his head, lids flitting shut. Olivia felt equally as frustrated although she seemed to do a better job at maintaining her composure, arms crossed over her chest.

Her mouth opened once more, before she was quickly cut off by a woman with bright, red, vivacious hair that spilled down her back, clad in a green blouse over white pants. She had an upturned nose and flickering emerald eyes, a clip board in hand. “Well, I beg to differ. We actually found a body East of the Thames River. It was completely drained of blood.”

Olivia wasn’t sure it was possible for all three of their faces to ashen simultaneously. Gary was the first to speak, all causalities drained from his tone as he talked in a quiet, controlled fury. “The Night Children,” he seethed, “dirty mongrels. Do they not respect the Consilium? Do they not respect our government? That is the highest offense, and they shall pay.” The flecks of gray in his hair seemed to grow even brighter, his copper-yellow eyes glittering threateningly under the industrial ceiling lamps.

No matter how much Olivia wished to agree with him, she couldn’t bring herself to jump the gun, especially when it was ridiculously easy to frame an entire race of people even if they were innocent. “Don’t you think we’re being too quick to point fingers?” she questioned, although it came off as more of a blatant statement.

Sirius’ back straightened and he stared at her, really stared at her, as if it were the most ridiculous thing she could have ever said. “And who else could it be? Who else would drain a body completely of its blood other than the monsters who lust for it? They’re unruly creatures, I wouldn’t put it past them.”

“By automatically judging other people, we are not fulfilling our duties correctly,” Olivia quickly snapped back, gaze flickering between the two men as the pixie woman stood dubiously off to the left. “We need conclusive evidence, not accusations based on centuries of petty grudges.”

Gary looked as irritated with her as Sirius, but she couldn’t say she gave a damn. Olivia always stood by what she said, no matter the circumstance, or the consequences. “Now if we could see the body,” she continued, “maybe we could draw better conclusions.”

The woman glanced up from her board, her actions slow and deliberate, uneasiness spread across her features. “I can show you,” she responded, her voice grave. “If you’ll follow me.”

[/blockquote][/size]

[Rosabeth]

{name:Dom#|#picture:54}

A while after Andrew and Luke left, both exhausted after a massive caffeine crash, Dom stayed awake, his laptop open on one side and his phone laying beside him on the other. He didn't bother looking at the clock to check the time - time had long since ceased to mean anything to him. It was an occupational hazard of his line of work. His clients dictated his hours of work, and therefore Dom spent most of his awake time during the night, seeing as his less savory customers preferred the ultimate in discretion. He had to laugh at the parallel. A half-vampire who slept during the day and walked at night - the joke was too good to pass up.

Unfortunately, late nights ment there was not much to do in terms of activities that didn't involve alcohol, drugs, or nightclubs, so Dom spent most of his time indoors. With a page of coding pulled up, the menacing blinking line flashing over and over for every second he wasn't typing, Dom groaned. He looked over at his phone once more, wishing for someone - anyone - to call, but there weren't many people up in the middle of the night. Well, not many people he wished to talk to. A sudden strange desire came over Dom but he forced it down just as quickly as it came. He would not call Margaux. He couldn't. It had been four months with no contact but the occasional sighting at Coven meetings and Dom was more than happy to keep the distance. Still, he wondered if her number was the same...

The buzzing of his phone snapped Dom from his ridiculous thoughts and he grabbed at it in thanks. At the sight of William's name Dom's spirits faltered. William was hardly a night walker, and for him to be up this late could only mean the worst. The Sabia usually didn't resort to using Will as their messenger, but if the situation was right Dom would put nothing past them.

"What?" Dom said sharply as he took the call. He immediately flinched at the sound of his own voice, realizing how harsh it was for no viable reason. "Sorry, Will. What's going on?"

"Have you been watching the news?"

"What?" Dom instantly pulled up The Times. "No, I don't usually follow the news. What's going on?"

There was a pause, followed by William's sigh. "Are you on your computer? Never mind, stupid question. Pull up the crime section. I think you'll figure it out pretty quickly."

Dom did as instructed, scrolling through the articles. There were a couple burglaries, a shooting, a missing person, and... Dom stared at the headline, wondering how anyone couldn't see right through it. "Body Found in Thames" it read in bold lettering, followed by a short article with little interesting news. Dom read in three times over but could focus only on one line. "The body belonged to 21-year-old Natalie Carmichael who went missing in Southwark last week. Her cause of death is undetermined, but officials believe her disappearance may be related to the 26 Londoners who've gone missing in the past week, a case of unparalleled size."

"Vampires," said Dom, pushing his laptop off his lap and getting to his feet, heading to the window.

"You noticed too?" said William, sounding more sad than Dom had heard in years.

"Body found in river with no cause of death? It screams vampire. Why else would they not have a cause of death? If you're found in the bloody river your cause of death is usually either drowning or some sort of assault, but with that many people missing in such a short amount of time this isn't some bastard who decided to shoot his girlfriend one night and dump her in the Thames. Besides, disposing of a body in the river is the classic mistake of a new vampire," Dom ranted, leaning against the window frame. He could barely see the river peeking from between rows of buildings, a dirty, winding mess.

"Exactly my thoughts," said William. "Daniel's nearly killed several new members of the coven for making the exact same mistake. It always seems logical to a new vampire who loses it after they make their first kill, not having thought about disposing the body. Of course, when the police find it and the Consilium's forces step in it all goes to hell pretty fast."

There was an unspoken question just begging to be answered but neither Dom nor William seemed willing to be the one to ask it. Unable to take the uncomfortable silence on the line, Dom finally crumbled. "Will... was it the Sabia? Was it Margaux?"

At first William gave no answer, and for a second Dom thought he'd been disconnected, but eventually he could hear William's breath on the other end. "I don't know," he whispered. "It could be, but there's a lot of other covens in London. It could be the Erete, the Ademeni, the Balaur, the Cursa -"

"I get it, I get it," Dom cut in before William could name off every coven in London. "There's a lot of damn vampires in this city. Still, do you think it could be Margaux?"

"It's possible but very unlikely. Margaux's been part of the coven for a couple months. This is the mistake of a newly-made vampire, someone who has next to no training," said William.

Dom let out a sigh of relief, glad to know his ex-girlfriend wasn't responsible for some poor girl's death. He flinched, realizing that the death being undisclosed did not mean it did not happen. Though the vampires weren't allowed by the Consilium to kill any humans, it was a transgression that happened far more often than anyone was really willing to admit, and the likelihood that Margaux already had a kill or two under her belt was a thought Dom didn't want to ponder.

"What if it's the Sabia, though?" Dom pressed, unable to let the possibility drop, too terrified by the prospects. "You know what'll happen if the Consilium catch them. That's a punishment for the whole coven and last time I checked we're still technically part of it."

"I'm hoping it's not them," is all William could seem to say.

"Thanks for letting me know," Dom said finally, returning to his couch and sinking into the cushions. William made some sort of indistinct grunt before warning Dom to stay away from the coven for a bit, though Dom wasn't entirely sure why. Dom ended the call, tossing his phone onto a pile of clothes on the floor across the room. With a heavy sigh, Dom pushed himself off the couch, stripping off his clothes on his way to his bedroom, leaving them strewn about his living room before dropping onto his bed in a heap, no longer feeling quite so awake.

[Ange Keating]

{name:Olivia#|#picture:53}

Just as Gary and Sirius had predicted, the autopsy indicated clearly that the body had been drained by a vampire. From beneath the sheer fabric of her scarf resided two, defined bite wounds, right on the thick jugular. A rookie’s mistake. Gary had assured her he’d contact someone who could help them locate the offending vampires in the morning before sending her off on her way. He’d never been completely comfortable with her walking home at two AM in the morning, especially when the streets were pitch black and lonely, but after Olivia managed to shatter a looter’s kneecap in two seconds, no more, his worries had flown right out the window.

By the time she returned to the apartment, Alexander was sprawled out on the couch with a bowl of cereal and a notepad resting on his knees. His eyes instantly lit up with skepticism when she shut the door behind her, setting the Lucky Charms down on the glass table.

“Who the hell stays out until 3 AM to read a book?” he questioned.
“I…got caught up?”
Alexander rolled his eyes, although a tiny grin tugged at the corners of his lips. “Olivia, Olivia, Olivia. Take a seat in my office.” He then patted on the cushion next to his.
“You mean the couch?”

He shot her a pointed look before she was raising her hands in surrender, trailing towards the sofa. “Fine.” She figured she had nothing else to lose in a moment like this – especially when she had no better alibis to give him. However, the way he looked at her with an almost teasing understanding unsettled her, like they were on completely different wave lengths.
“Now you don’t have to lie to your best friend, alright? I understand and I will never judge you. Hey, I’ve done some pretty questionable--”

“Will you get to the damn point?” Olivia hissed, sleep deprivation driving her to all new levels of grumpy.
“It must’ve not been good, huh? Well that happens.”
Now she was truly and utterly confused, and on top of raw irritation, it wasn’t the best combination for him. Olivia’s lips flew open, but he pressed a finger to it, ‘shh’ing’ her.
“Olivia Bates, I’ve pegged you as everything else in the book but a sexual minx.”

Olivia’s cheeks automatically flushed a deep scarlet, her body shaking in anger. What the hell had he just said to her? She could hardly believe that was what he thought she was doing in her spare time, as if such pointless acts of sensuality mattered to her. Under all the anger though, a flood of relief washed over her. He hadn’t become suspicious, and would most likely become the least of her problems when it came to staying out late to handle business for the Consilium. Hell, he could believe she was a secret stripper named Candy Apples if it meant keeping her in the clear, no matter how much it heavily aggravated her.

“Alexander—”
“No, no, no, you don’t need to explain. I mean, a woman has needs and—”
“Alexander.”
“Clearly you’re twenty six years old and at that age where consensual, mature, sexual relations are completely normal, y’know? Even necessary.”
“Alexander!” she exclaimed, grabbing a pillow and whacking him across the face with it. “Will you shut up?”

Olivia hated the fact that a snort wanted to erupt from her throat, no matter how much of a nuisance he was being, and how incredibly wrong he was. Alexander just had that ability to annoy the shit out of her and make her laugh hysterically all at the same time. He fed off of it too, just like he was now.

“Just make sure an asshole doesn’t impregnate you, because I couldn’t fathom how much hell it would be like to be around you when you’re hormonal.”
“And you wonder why you’re the twenty six year old virgin?” Olivia spat, a scoff flitting past her lips.
“Hey, there is nothing wrong with searching for the right one.”
“Well, hate to break it to ya’ pal, but no matter how much you try, a blow up doll will never come to life.”

[/blockquote][/size]

[Rosabeth]

{name:Dom#|#picture:54}

A stranger to any time before noon, Dom was barely coherent when his phone rang far to early, pulling him from his already light sleep. Blinking into the darkness of his room, Dom swore under his breath, blindly reaching to his bedside table, grasping at the phone that was not there. After a minute of disorentation Dom realized the phone was not even in the room and with a heavy groan he pushed himself out of bed and retrieved the phone from the pile of clothes on the living room floor. Five missed calls. Dom shook his head, silently praying that it wasn't Mr. Norris. He wasn't entirely sure he could handle an 9 a.m. phone call from his least favorite neurotic security specialist. As he studied the number he quickly realized it was entirely unfamiliar. Dom didn't even have time to try to call back, for the phone began to ring for what was apparently the sixth time in five minutes.

"Hello?" he answered groggily, clearing his throat.
He heard a sigh on the other line. "Mr. Foster?"
"Yeah?"
"Good morning, this is Gary Argyris calling from Servorum Lex."
"Great. What do you want?" Dom realized a moment too late that that probably wasn't the most polite means of introduction, but after considering apologizing for a moment he remembered that he was also being called at 9 a.m. His guilt went out the window. Besides, the Servorum and he weren't exactly friends.
"Right. Well, we're currently working on a fairly high-profile case -"
"It's the 26 missing people, isn't it?"
Dom could tell this Gary was growing tired with his curt responses but did not argue.
"Yes, that would be the one. You've worked with us in the past on cases of a similar nature and we're looking for a specialist who'd be interested in helping us with this case."

Dom sank into the couch, closing his eyes as he rested his face against his phone. God damn it, he hated the Servorum. His hatred was irrational, that was clear enough, but that did not make it any less potent. After a life of near servitude for the Sabia, a people who both considered his kind a gift to the vampire race while simultaneously treating them as underlings, working for a second-rate police service that saw his worth entirely in his infamy as a traitor to his kind wasn't exactly appealing. The first time he'd taken on a case for the Servorum was when he was twenty-four and a vampire coven had more or less become the most prevalent gang in East London. Though most of their unsavory dealings were with rivaling covens, towards the end they'd begun dealing with humans, and after enough intimidation, abuse, and eventual murder the Consilium had stepped in. Unfortunately, the coven at large was a particularly tricky group, and it quickly became clear that only a fellow vampire would be able to track them down. The Servorum had put out an ad (obviously not in the Daily Mail) for anyone with information on the coven, and Dom had jumped at the reward money in a flash. At first the Servorum had passed him over, wary of his eagerness to reveal information, perhaps thinking he'd lead them straight into a trap. As Dom quickly proved that his tracking skills, not to mention his extensive knowledge on the vampire sub-culture of London, were well above par, the Servorum took him a bit more seriously.

Ever since that day they'd contacted him in every single case regarding vampires. It was not that they could not do the tracking work themselves, but having an actual vampire, or at least dhampir, made the work a thousand times easier and faster. Dom had rejected each call, going as far as to blacklist their number, which apparently was no longer the number they used. The backlash Dom had received from the Sabia when they'd discovered his treachery was more than enough punishment to last him a lifetime and he still retained the scars to prove his ordeal. Though each coven was generally hostile towards every other, alliances rarely lasting longer than a few years, a meager time to vampires, the betrayal of one vampire by another to any other species was the ultimate crime. Dom had only escaped death by sheer luck and a good deal of lying.

Still, Dom would be lying if he did not admit to considering each offer that came his way. No matter how much he disliked the Servorum's blatant distaste for him, it could not be ignored that they payed exorbitantly well. A single case paid enough to let him take a few months off of hacking, and if it weren't for the repercussion of involvement Dom would have swallowed his pride and snitched his way to riches. This reasoning, however, was probably why the Servorum disliked him so. They saw his lack of allegiance as untrustworthiness and cruelty; Dom saw it as payback.

"Sorry, I don't do business with magic cops anymore," Dom said finally. He knew how much the Servorum disliked the term "magic cops," and sure enough he could hear Gary sigh through the phone.
"It would be a one time dealing. We do not require long-term service." Dom didn't miss the message beneath the service - we don't want you around.
"Yeah, well unless you're willing to put a new flat in Mayfair on the table as a bargaining chip I think I'm going to pass."
There was a moment of silence, filled with only Gary clearing his throat. "What if we offered you something better?"
"What, 10 Downing Street? Buckingham Palace?"
"Your safety."

Gary'd struck a nerve and he knew it. Dom swore, clenching his empty fist.
"What, is this a threat?" he hissed, his hand shaking.
"No, of course not. This is an opportunity for you to clear your name."
Dom scoffed. "I'm not in any legal trouble. I don't think we're talking about the same kind of safety here."
"Oh really? Can you vouch for the fact that your coven, the Sabia, is not behind the recent vampire attacks?" Dom's silence was answer enough. "That's what I thought. Well, unless you have definitive proof that your coven had no involvement then I can't offer you any protection from our law, and I'm sure you're aware of Coven Law."

Gary might have said that his words were no threat, but they certainly felt like one.

"I'm offering you amnesty, Mr. Foster," said Gary, more confident than before. "The choice is up to you."
Dom weighed his options, not liking any of them. "And what if my coven isn't involved? What then?"
"Then we pay you as we would have and there's no harm done, is there?"

It was more than clear to both parties that there would certainly be more potential harm done than Gary led on, but both parties also knew that amnesty was not something to be ignored. Had Dom been more confident in the innocence of the Sabia he might have turned down the offer without a second thought, but as things were... His hand subconsciously crept to the nape of his neck, feeling where he knew his coven mark to be.

"Fine," Dom snapped.
Gary's disposition was instantly improved. His voice was significantly more pleasant. "Excellent. Your duties start tonight at ten. I trust you still know where the offices are." The second Gary disconnected the call Dom threw his phone across the room.

[Ange Keating]

{name:Olivia#|#picture:53}

As soon as Olivia had stepped into the precinct, she was swiftly pulled aside by her familiar lycan boss, stubble bushing over his chin, tired, dark orbs connecting with hers. Gary was an incredibly jovial person ninety nine percent of the time, but tonight, he looked like he was fed up with all of it, large body slumping to the side ungracefully.

“Ehren,” he greeted with a small nod, pulling out a chair from a small, circular table in the back of the room. They were currently in the coffee shop, all the over-head lamps shut off, only the moonlight that spilled from the large windows up front offering any illumination.
“Gary,” she returned, using his humane name, rather than Adolphus. She preferred the former option, if only because it suited him better and he didn’t seem to mind. Adolphus was too serious, too unlike him.
“Congratulations, you’re on the case.”

Olivia’s breath caught in her throat before she was straightening up against her chair, eyes widening at him. She had worked fervently for the agency for years, but never had she been assigned to a project so huge, especially when there were people like Sirius who had experience beyond her years and could no doubt handle the assignment.

“Really?” she breathed, before her teeth were roughly colliding with her lower lip, composure returning. “I mean, that’s excellent.”
“You’re obviously the most level-headed with this issue, and would no doubt handle it more professionally than myself or any other worker in this building.” Then, reaching across the table, his fingers ghosted across hers before adding, “I have no doubts in your ability.”

Her lips propped open, goosebumps chilling her skin as she nodded her head rapidly. “Thank you.” The completely raw and utter fervency in his words proved that he actually meant everything he was saying, not a shred of regret in his decision to put her on the job. Gary was serious about running a tight ship so the opportunity was nothing short of an honor.

“But,” he continued, and Olivia’s gratitude deflated like a balloon, “you’ll have someone to assist you in this search. A dhampir. He’s in the Sabia coven.”

Her eyebrows automatically shot up, confusion etched into her features. “He’s betraying his coven?” Olivia didn’t know an outstanding amount of information on the vampires or why most species had decided to detest them, but she was certain such offenses were usually treated with brutal death.

“We’re offering him amnesty if things go south of where we expect it to go,” Gary responded. “Although, I should warn you Dominic Foster is a difficult individual to work with so proceed with caution.”

Olivia’s jaw grew taut, elbows carelessly rested on the surface of the table as she inclined her body forward. “What do you mean difficult?” If Gary hadn’t come to the conclusion already, she had overwhelmingly short bursts of patience, especially when it involved people she knew she wouldn’t get along with.

“As in, he’s a glorified jackass, excuse my language.”

Why couldn’t good news stay good news? Olivia felt foolish for expecting the moment of approaching the biggest milestone in her career to not be coupled with an equally as awful announcement.

“Speak of the devil and he doth appear,” Gary murmured, their field of vision simultaneously connecting with the entrance way of the coffee shop as a tall, dark-haired man, clad in a leather jacket, jeans, and boots stepped through the threshold, his stone-cold eyes as black and bottomless as death.

“Dominic – thank you for seeing us on such short notice for a meeting. This is Olivia Bates, the person you shall be working with.”

Olivia didn’t even smile.

[/blockquote][/size]

[Rosabeth]

{name:Dom#|#picture:54}

From the look on Olivia's face Dom might as well have insulted her, for she was not amused in the slightest. He had a feeling his reputation - deserved or not - had preceded him.
"Hello," he said curtly, trying to stay as civil as possible. This would be easier to do had Olivia been a bit more amiable, though to be honest any cheeriness would probably just piss him off.

Gary looked about with a tight smile. "Well, I'll leave you two to it. You've got some introductions to get to, not to mention some substantial work." He tried to leave then but Olivia grabbed his arm, pulling him and and whispering "him, seriously?" near his ear. Either she didn't realize the extent of Dom's heightened senses or she didn't care. Gary gave a small shrug, turning to flash Dom a brief but obviously insincere smile. Once he was gone Olivia turned back to Dom with a piercing stare.

"You're the dhampir?"
Dom bit his tongue to avoid snapping, consigning himself to an eye-roll and nod.
"Come on then."

Dom followed her into a small cubicle further down the hall, taking a seat opposite her desk.

"Haven't got your own office? How'd you manage this case?" asked Dom, drumming his fingers on the desk. If Olivia was going to be antagonistic he could play right along. Olivia didn't dignify his remark with a retort, though from her pursed lips it clearly looked like she wished to. She instead pulled out a file from a drawer, placing it on the table between them and pulling out a few pictures. They were all of the body of the girl pulled out of the Thames. In the pictures her skin was pale and green tinted, but it was clear even from the picture that her blood had been drained. She looked thin, and the regular pooling of the blood after death was obviously not there.

"Are there any signs from these pictures of a certain coven's involvement? Any telling marks?"
Dom almost laughed. "What, do you think the covens go around branding their bodies like a dog marks its territory? No, vampires aren't idiots, they don't do that."
"Look, arsehole," Olivia hissed, leaning across the table. "I'm just trying to do my job here, alright?"
"Your job would go a lot more smoothly if you stopped asking stupid questions."
Olivia's face flamed. "If you want to go to prison that's fine by me, but if not then just answer the damn questions. It's not exactly like you're in a position of power here, dhampir."
Dom felt anger boiling up beneath the surface. He hated that word. He hated what it entailed and he hated those who used it like they understood what it meant. "Neither are you, obviously," he snapped.

For a minute they sat in silence, glaring at one another over the table, having completely forgotten the task at hand. Eventually Olivia took a long, deep breath, turning back to the pictures. Dom did so as well, though he wasn't paying much attention anymore.

"If you're too incompetent to figure anything out with these pictures then the least you could do would be to give us some information on the major covens, seeing as you don't seem to have any problem with betrayal," she said, sliding the pictures back into the case file.

If one more person played the 'betrayal' card Dom was going to rip out someone's throat. They all acted as if he went around betraying all of his friends and family to law enforcement, looking only for personal gain. No one ever seemed to mention the fact that the Sabia essentially treated him as a slave, nor did anyone seem to remember that after the last incident Dom had been nearly beaten to death, not to mention drained to the point of unconsciousness so often it was a miracle he was still alive.

"I never said I couldn't help you, I just said your methods were awful. Then again, how would you know how to conduct a case?" said Dom, his voice surprisingly calm despite his overwhelming urge to punch someone. "Do you still have the body?"

"The morgue has it somewhere," said Olivia, her knuckles nearly white on her clenched fist.

Dom slid back in his chair. "Take me to it. Once I see the body I'll tell you if I can help you or not."

[Ange Keating]

{name:Olivia#|#picture:53}

Behind ‘Mr. Bean’ was a large, rectangular building with doors that required a special PIN to unlock, followed by voice and eye activation. Usually only Gary was able to unlock the doors, but he had placed her in the program temporarily for the case. The building was an illusion of the mythical world, any common human unable to view it unless they knew it was there.

Olivia’s fists were clenched angrily at her sides as she powered ahead of the Dhampir, eyes narrowed towards the entrance. Gary had definitely underestimated how much of a nuisance Dominic Foster would be, cheeks still flushed with dormant rage as she attempted to rid the fierce emotion from her system. He wouldn’t get the best of her – he couldn’t. She was a professional woman, she could handle it. She could handle him.

Olivia’s fingers fumbled with the key pad as she typed in several combinations before forcing herself to refocus and get the PIN right.
“I can’t see you solving a case if you can hardly open a door,” his voice, like velvet poison, sounded from behind her, officially pushing her over the edge.

She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t fucking do this!

In one motion, she was digging her nails into the collar of his leather jacket, golden orbs burning into his like a blazing fire. If Olivia hadn’t known thrusting him against the wall would hurt her more than him, she would have gladly done so. But for the sake of whatever shred of professionalism she had left, and her own sanity, she gradually released her grip on him, a long exhale escaping her lips as she backed up.

Ignoring his stupid, smug grin, she hissed, “Listen, dhampir, I’m sure you don’t want to be around me as much as I don’t want to be around you, but it’s just the way things fucking are, okay? We will close this case and hopefully won’t be subjected to the horror of seeing the other’s face again. Now keep your snide, unnecessary comments to yourself.”

With that, she opened the entrance before stepping into a long, wide hallway comprised of steel as hundreds of bodies locked away in draws surrounded her. Every rectangular holding case was labeled by an identification number that could be tracked on the computer with a full folder of information on said creature, or human. Olivia quickly found AL-29102, using a special key to open the box before dragging it out its full length.

Natalie Carmichael – she had been a fair-haired blonde with dark brown eyes and freckles dusting her skin. Now all color had escaped her, her lips taking on a near green, and body a waxy appearance. Olivia’s nose scrunched up in mild disgust. It was hard to believe that someday she would simply cease to exist. Even though every child in her world had been brainwashed with ideas of religion and faith in the Consilium, and how good fylgha children would return to their spirit form and fly to the utopia after completing all their destined duties, she couldn’t bring herself to accept the fact that kissing the asses of ten or twelve people in a council would determine her fate after death.

Olivia moved aside as he reached out a hand to touch the corpse, and for a moment she nearly stopped him before opting out and realizing his intentions. His hand clearly had a purpose as he tenderly pushed back a few tendrils of her chest-length hair, so her neck was completely revealed. Then, tilting his jaw in a slight nod as he traced the bite, he stepped away from the draw moments later. Olivia waited to see if he would do something else before pushing the container back in its slot once more and crossing her arms over her chest.

“The results?” she prompted.

[/size][/blockquote]

[Rosabeth]

{name:Dom#|#picture:54}

The smell of formaldehyde was hard to ignore, but once Dom managed to push it to the back of his mind it was easier to focus on the task at hand. He silently scanned the bare body, looking for any extra bite marks that might have gone unnoticed. There were a few vampires who liked to bite their victims in specific places, just for the hell of it. Dom couldn't understand the practice, seeing as any sort of marker would put the vampire in danger should their victim be found, but then again he didn't have much of a flare for the dramatic.

He moved up to the neck, staring intently at the bite wound. There was nothing out of the ordinary about it, though the size of the bite suggested it was a male, judging by the length of the jaw. Gently, he pressed his fingers to the edges of the wound, tracing the puncture holes. He was not feeling for anything, even if that's how it appeared, but rather he was sensing. He took a deep breath through his nose, trying to focus on the scent of the body rather than the chemicals. If he knew the vampire in question himself he might be able to recognize the scent, and if not he would file it away for later.

"Well?" Olivia asked impatiently, glaring at him with folded arms. Dom realized he'd been standing there for a minute in silence, racking his brain. The scent was unfamiliar, but there were plenty of vampires in the city he'd never met - hell, there were vampires in his coven he did not know.

"I don't know," he shrugged, shoving his hands in his jacket pockets. Olivia stared without understanding, eventually scoffing and beginning to walk from the room.

"What good is a dhampir if they can't do anything?" she hissed, pulling open the door. Dom followed close behind, slipping through behind her.
"I never said I can't find out, just that I don't know in this moment, unlike you who will never find out without my help."
For a moment Dom thought she might have an aneurism, but slowly she brushed her long, brown hair out of her face and behind her ear, using it as a moment to probably resist choking Dom.
"Then why don't you fucking do something then, dhampir?"

It was a vicious cycle. She'd call him a dhampir, he'd get upset and throw a retort back, to which she'd only curse him out and the cycle would continue. Even so, Dom couldn't help but enjoy every second she lost her composure, even when lashing out meant insulting him. Something about her grated him to the core.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I forgot how much you were doing for his case," said Dom, adding in a fake, low laugh for added effect. "Oh yes, you're really working yourself to death doing... what again? I can't seem to remember you doing anything besides directing the hired help."

"What, and you're really busting your ass?" Olivia laughed, but it was a heavy, forced sound, her eyes flashing as she spoke.
"Yeah, actually, I am. I now know the exact scent and sense of the person who committed the murder. If I run into them I'll know."
"'Sense?' What the hell is that?"
"It's someone's presence, their nature, their being - I don't know how to explain it. It doesn't matter, anyway. If I touch the person I'll know. I'll be able to feel it."
"Are you planning on spending a lot of time around the vampires? Do you guys hang at night clubs and prey on women?" asked Olivia.
Dom rolled his eyes. "I can't exactly escape my coven. Trust me - I'll see them."
Suddenly Olivia gave a sly smile. "On a scale of one to ten how would you rate your enjoyment of betraying your beloved coven? What, is backstabbing how you get off?"

He'd been resisting lashing out to this point, but the mention of betrayal was the one thing he could not repress. Dom gave a quick scan of the area, realizing they were alone in the hallway, and he spun on the spot, pushing Olivia against the wall with his arm pressed across her collar. "I'm going to make one thing very clear to you, ok?" he hissed, his face only inches from hers. "You don't know a fucking thing about my coven or my life. You couldn't begin to understand how to dhampir are treated, so don't act like you understand it at all. If you want to know just what it's like to deal with the Sabia I'd be more than happy to introduce you, are we clear?"

Dom glared at Olivia for a moment before dropping his arm and pushing himself away, storming down the hall. Gary poked his head out of his office as Dom passed, giving him a knowing look. Dom almost passed him without a thought but then paused, turning back to him.

"Are you serious with her?" he exclaimed, propping up his arm in the doorframe. "You've got to be kidding me."

"She's good, Foster. Give her a chance."
Dom found that hard to believe. He said as much. Gary only shook his head, turning back to his work. "You're not exactly easy to work with yourself."