Thread: Bite Me, I Dare You. [Raindrop Memories x Raziel99]

The lights of downtown Los Angeles sparkled brightly against the backdrop of the setting sun. Rich hues of violet, copper and gold brought the cool breeze of the evening. Everywhere the sounds of bass and techno erupting from the nearby nightclubs echoed throughout the busy streets... one club in particular the new Afterlife. Darya Kozlova waited impatiently in line behind a large group of spring break undergrad students, some of them she recognized from her classes. Fortunately, she wasn't the type to go to clubs -- at least in their eyes -- and so she remained unrecognizable. She shivered as the temperature dropped quickly along with the sun, her cropped leather jacket doing little to keep the cold out. Move along, now! the bouncer boomed over the voices of boisterous young adults, as he skimmed the flashed IDs of students, quickly ushering as many people as he could inside. It wasn't long before Darya found herself in a sea of dancers, strobe lights flashing arrays of color, momentarily blinding her. She closed her eyes, feeling the pulse of the music reverberate and throb through the walls, the dancefloor, the air and the bodies of so many people surrounding her. For a couple moments she felt total bliss in her dance, until she became pushed around by the clubbers on the dancefloor. Breaking her trance, she grew a little disheartened and wanted to lose herself in the music again, but Darya knew she had something to do tonight, maybe dancing would come later. Yeah, right. The girl thought sarcastically as she weaved through the mass of humans, and found an empty seat at the bar. She took that seat and waved for the bartender to mix her a drink... nevermind the fact that she might not have the cash for it. It made her groan a little, but she knew she could simply give the next boy that sat next to her a demure smile with a small request for cash, and she'd find herself with a couple twenties in her hands. Even if the kid thought he'd get something later, she would always be long gone before the end of the night. The icy cold sangria tasted crisp, fruity and refreshing, the crimson blood color reminding the Russian of her duties tonight. Taking sips every so often with the warmth of alcohol spreading through her body, she slipped off the jacket and waited for the telltale signs of her . . . prey. Yes, she was Darya Kozlova the Huntress, a proud, 19 year old nemesis to the vampire race. Strapped to her thigh was a knife, the blade about three inches long. The cold metal felt perfect against her bare skin, underneath the fabric of the short black dress she wore. It was inconspicuous, not that different compared to the other girls in the club that wore similar designs, but something about Darya -- whether it was the way it perfectly hugged her curves and toned stomach, the way her raven hair tumbled down in waves to just below her neck, or simply the way she carried herself, with confidence -- set her off from the others, if a person with a well-trained eye observed carefully. She set down the empty glass, and scrutinized the crowd. The girl wrinkled her nose. With so many people in an enclosed area, giving off this sweet human aroma, even the most powerful of vampires probably wouldn't be able to resist this live buffet for long . . . and all she had to do was wait.