Strangers in the Dark (Max, Bobby,Open)

[Syria DeDarko]

Shifting her stance uncomfortably, Syria strode into the club, her expression confidently masking any reservations she held. She was here on a hunt, which meant that she had to stay true to her cover, which at this point, was a walk-in applicant for the recently opened position of dancer. The girl who previous held that position had wound up dead, quite mysteriously, which led to Syria's presence in the town. Her normal guise was usually a bartender, but the girl's death had left Syria with an opening that was almost too good to refuse. And it wasn't like she couldn't pull the new role off.

Already, just barely after entering the club, Syria saw a few of the patrons staring at her. The guys looked like they were barely holding themselves back from jumping her bones; the girls looked liked they wanted to strike her dead where she stood. From those reactions, she knew she was a shoe-in for the currently vacant position.

The heels of her boots sounded off rhythmically as she strode over to the bar lazily, her mouth fixed into a smirk. When the bartender came up to her, and gave her a quick full-body scan, she smiled. "Johnny Walker on the rocks, straight," she told him, slipping him the money for the drink, along with a nice tip. He eyed her for a moment, but Syria recognized the expression. When most people saw her, she didn't come off as the whiskey type-of-girl, nevertheless the whiskey type-of-girl who could drink nearly everyone at the bar under the table.

By the time the bartender returned with her drink, Syria had already spotted exactly who she was looking for. A blond woman, who she recognized as Sibeal Montgomery. According to her research, Sibeal was the vice-manager of the club, which in Syria's experience, made her the one to go to for employment.

After sipping her drink, and enjoying the warm that flowed down her throat down and down her limbs, Syria strode over to the blond. "Sibeal Montgomery?" she asked in a sweet tone. She was pretending to be a college girl, looking for a way to make a living. "Hi, my name is Anya Tatkret, I was wondering if I could ask you about a job here?"

[erik]

After the toast, Erik settled back into the booth and watched the inhabitants of the club. His attention was drawn to the blond once more where she stood at the bar talking to a dark haired gentleman. The man had a dangerous look about him that put the wolf a bit on edge and he found himself tapping his fingers on the table before the sound of Max's voice cut through the silence.

“SoErik, what kind of deal you have in a place like this?”

Turning his attention back to his companions, Erik gave a shrug before replying.

"Derek DeVoux and I go way back. Because of my unique... situation... I've had to take different identities and some of those have allowed me top secret clearance into military opperations. Derek is a former special ops commander. We've worked together in more than one tight spot."

Just then, the waitress approached with refills on their drinks and he waited until she had left before continuing.

"I think you will find Derek to be of interest. He's a shapeshifter like myself but he holds high ideals of love and war. If you are ever in a tight spot, hes got more connections than you can shake a stick at."

Just as he finished, a dark haired beauty walked into the club and ordered a drink. She glanced at Sibeal and then smiled before walking over to talk to the woman. Against his will, Erik was ensnared by the soft sway of her hips and his animal instincts went on full alert. The woman was not all she seemed.

[Simi James]

Sibeal smiled at the young man and then leaned negligently on the bar again. Her smile was like sunshine and her voice was conspiratory as she looked around and asked.

"How about we drink to the fact that we're both smart enough to get the hell out of the heat outside and cool enough to enjoy a good glass of whiskey?"

Grinning impishly, she raised her glass, gave him a wink and then tossed back her shot. She had a feeling the dude had enough gloom about him so the best cure for that in her book, was some humor. Setting the tumbler back on the bar, she was about to say something else when a young woman walked up and introduced herself.

"Sibeal Montgomery?" she asked in a sweet tone. She was pretending to be a college girl, looking for a way to make a living."Hi, my name is Anya Tatkret, I was wondering if I could ask you about a job here?"

Tilting her head a bit, Sibeal looked at her and immediately knew that the girl was lieing out her teeth. Yeah, she wanted a job here alright but her name certainly wasn't Anya Tatkret. Although her thoughts were coming through like a normal persons, the blond caught enough to know that she wasn't what she seemed. Arching a brow, Sibeal meet her gaze for a long moment and saw the moment the woman knew she'd been made. Then, smiling, she pushed away from the counter and nodded to her companion.

"I'm sorry... If you'll excuse me.. Business before pleasure..." she said with a smile. "I'll be back in few minutes."

Turning to the young woman, Sibeal continued.

"If you will follow me... We'll go back to my office where we can have some privacy."

Leading the way, the blond headed into the backrooms and down a hallway to the business area. Entering a huge office, she motioned towards a chair and then perched upon the desk.

"Ok.... so, what is it that brings you to the Wolf's Den and what is your name, really? If you want to work here, we need to have honesty between us even if its only in this room.....I know your not human so I can understand the lie before but that is done as of now. You can be whomever you want outside these walks but Derek will have my hide if I hire someone .. unsuitable."

[Syria DeDarko]

Sibeal reacted just as Syria had hoped, with the exception of a slight twitch that she herself couldn't place. It had been momentary, entirely not enough to raise her alarm on the matter. As far as Syria knew, her guise had worked perfectly, ensnaring the blond in her lie. With any hope, she'd have the job soon enough, and then she'd be on her way to catching the previous employee's murderers.

Though, soon after following Sibeal into the back office, that illusion was promptly shattered. Not only had the female entrepreneur failed to believe Syria, she also was quite forward about the entire situation. It was almost as if she was psychic or something! For a moment, Syria's breath caught in her throat, and the only audible sound was the all too fast beating of her heart. But that moment passed, and she recovered, quickly recomposing herself.

This Sibeal was definitely not everything she seemed to be, that much Syria knew for sure. "Hm, I guess what they say about blonds isn't true." Her vice held a hint of admiration, and respect. Anyone smart enough to see their her facade definitely warranted at least...some of the truth. "My name is Syria, and since you can already tell I'm not wholly human, than I guess you'll also know what I mean when I say I'm a hunter."

That much was completely honest. Syria was a hunter, though for her own protection, she wasn't going to divulge more than a first name right now. With a name as unique as hers, it would be all to simple for the FBI, namely her older brother, to catch a whiff of her location and find it. The alias she used, which she used almost everywhere, was a mix of things dear to her; Anya had been her grandmother, on her father's side, and Tatkret was a nickname her mother used to call her when she was little. To her mother's people, the northern Alaskan Inuit, it meant Moon, which was an all too apt name given her predicament.

"I have reason to believe that the predecessor for the spot I came here to apply for might have been killed by something that, well, falls under my jurisdiction, so to say. Since that's the case, I though it'd be best to try to get information undercover. But since you basically just burst that bubble, I'm guessing I'm probably going to have to find other means to further my investigation." Syria wasn't trying to be a smart-ass or anything, but rather just frank.

[war]

Warren shrugged and attempted to give her the best smile he could. “It’s a good excuse to drink as any,” he replied before downing the shot. Her company was succeeding in distracting his mind, enough so that he could keep the urge to kill in check for now at least.

Giving a quick look to the brunette that approached and took his company away, he nodded and turned back to his beer and ordered another shot of whiskey. He was starting to feel more in control, but it didn’t last long.

“Oh look, if it isn’t the great Warren Knight!” The voice was filled with sarcasm and the man was obviously drunk. His friend was rolling his eyes and trying to pull him away, but the stubborn drunkard refused to leave. “You think you’re a bigshot, don’t you. All you do is play some crappy music while the rest of us lowly mortals have to work our butts off to get paid.”

“Everyone is a critic,” Warren replied, trying to tamp down a new surge of rage. “Go away,” he added without even bothering to look at the drunkard, taking another hefty swig of beer, sticking to his plan of drowning himself.

“I won’t go just because you want me to mister rockstar!” the man continued being obnoxious to the point of shoving him, obviously trying to start a fight.

Griping to the bar with deadly force, the devil gave his best effort to maintain control. “Go away,” he said again, but it was useless. The man gripped his shirt with one hand and an empty bottle that was on the bar with the other. As he aimed the bottle at Warren’s head, a quick jerk of the demon’s hand had the man being tossed back, knocking his head and falling unconscious into the floor.

Turning to the other man that was trying to control his friend, his eyes flashed completely back and a look of hellish fury could be seen in their dark depths. As the man run away, Warren closed his eyes and managed to control himself. When he opened them, his eyes wore its usual blue depths once more. Glancing around the club, he was relieved that the incident had caught much attention as most of the patrons were concentrated solely on the girls on the stage. The unconscious man was taken as a drunk that had simply slipped on the floor and the demon was able to get back to drinking.

Only the keen eye would be able to catch what had really transpired.

[bobby]

When Max ask Erik about his connection to the place, Bobby's ears twitched in response, he would like to know that one too. The answer wasn't much different than he had guessed just the agency names and titles.

Bobby accepted the second drink and dropped some money on the trey, when she would have objected he said. “Tips, for you and the others.”

”He's a shapeshifter like myself” Bobby rolled his eyes, just what he needed to have to put up with another one like Erik. When did things get so complicated? Used to be you killed the Wolves not sat in the middle of a club with them. Maybe he was getting old?, but he was learning new tricks so he couldn't be that old of a dog now could he. And those connections Erik mentioned could come in handy some day.

He would have asked about Derik's willingness to work with Hunter's known to have killed wolves before; he had a funny feeling that like Erik it would be a sharp knife blade edge that was walked until any kind of trust could be established on either side. But as he started to ask Erik's attention seemed to have wandered in a direction other than the stage. That in itself was unusual, Bobby had always found the man the epitome of focus. Looking over at Max to see if he too had noticed the Wolf's defection from the norm.

[max]

Max knew Erik was old, Lexi had told him that, but pretty much all of the wolf’s past was still a mystery to him. That was the reason to why he was surprised when he heard about top secret military operations. The werewolf didn’t seem like the type that he would figure of having a past in the military.

Immediately after hearing the owner of that club was a werewolf, Max’s mind went into hunter mode, considering all the implications it could have. If he was Erik’s friend, he couldn’t be bad, or at least he hoped so.

Exchanging a quick look with Bobby that didn’t need words to be understood, he nodded to the older hunter. The change on Erik’s features were obvious, but when Max gazed to the same spot the wolf was looking, he believed he discovered why. He had only caught a glimpse of the brunette’s back but he could understand how she could draw his attention. Smirking, he took his glass and sipped on the drink and whispered to Bobby, “I think he found something better looking than us to stare at.”

[Simi James]

"Hm, I guess what they say about blonds isn't true." Her vice held a hint of admiration, and respect. Anyone smart enough to see their her facade definitely warranted at least...some of the truth. "My name is Syria, and since you can already tell I'm not wholly human, than I guess you'll also know what I mean when I say I'm a hunter."

Smiling a bit ruefully, Sibeal acknowledged the womans words and nodded. She'd had a feeling that the other woman was different. Her worlds only confirmed it. Humans thoughts were usually clear and concise with very little interference because they generally had the same thought processes she did. Other species, however, where different. Sometimes she was only able to get vague flashes of images and other times they were mishappened pieces of a huge puzzle that she just needed to put together. Syria was a puzzle that needed figuring.

"I have reason to believe that the predecessor for the spot I came here to apply for might have been killed by something that, well, falls under my jurisdiction, so to say. Since that's the case, I though it'd be best to try to get information undercover. But since you basically just burst that bubble, I'm guessing I'm probably going to have to find other means to further my investigation."

For a long moment, Sibeal was silent as she gaze at the young woman. Her keen gaze was intelligent as she seemed to be trying to read Syria. Then, with a sudden nod, she pushed away from the desk.

"Fair enough. Your welcome to do your investigating undercover and the only ones who will know your secret at Derek, Charlie and I. I should warn you, however, we have any number of .... different.. types in and out of this club. Because of the nature of the owner, its only natural and we even see a few hunters. If at any time you should become an endangerment to its safety or secrecy, I'll have to let you go.... In return, if you ever need back up while you work here, we also protect our own. Derek, himself, is very anxious to find out who murdered Shannon as we all are."

Moving around the desk, the blond pulled out an information sheet and handed it to the other girl.

"Fill this out and be here 5 o'clock sharp tomarrow evening. I can spare some time then to show you the ropes and introduce you to some of the girls. I would suggest you visit some of our local shops and find on or two sexy outifits that you might like to use for your sets. If you need help with that, feel free to give me a ring. My cell is listed at the bottom of the sheet."

Smiling then, Sibeal moved back towards the door and opened it. Making sure Syria followed, the young dancer said.

"Because Derek isn't here this afternoon, I'm a bit busy but you can think of any questions you have and ask me tomarrow. I'm sure you'll do fine, however, as long as you can keep a beat and don't get embarrassed easily. This job isn't for the faint of heart. There are times we have to box some ears and kick a little ass to get hte proper respect we dancers deserve. Men sometimes tend to confuse dancers with hookers and all the ladies here are clean, intelligent and worthy of respect. Probably more than most "ladies""

By the time she had finished, an edge of fierceness had threaded her tone and as they stepped out into the main area of the club, more than one eye fell upon the two. They were polar opposites with one being blond and innocent looking and the other dark and sultry and there wasn't a man in the room who wasn't aware of them.

[Syria DeDarko]

Syria was pleasantly surprised when Sibeal agreed to go along with what Syria had originally planned. She could tell from the blond's tone that she was stressed, strained. No doubt, as her position in the club dictated, she was close to most if not all of its employees. Having one of them die so brutally must have come as a deep shock to her, along with most of the others. Plus, the way she spoke of the dancers hinted a spark of friendship; after all, she had said that they all stayed together and protected their own.

Switching her stance, Syria followed the blond after she handed her the application form. "For my own safety, I won't be using my real name," she informed her. With her brother still on her tail, Syria couldn't leave a paper trail for him to follow. That was just something she wouldn't concede on...she couldn't.

As they exited out the back room and back into the main club, Syria could feel several sets of eyes trained on both her and the blond. Normally it would've been unsettling, but she was more accostomed to being the center of attention than most. As a hunter, she'd worked in more bars than she could remember, and employment in places such as those had a tendency to loosten the nerves, especially when three-quarters of the patrons thought of you eye-candy.

"Do you need any help here tonight?" she asked Sibeal sincerely. Tension had a unique scent, and when she was next to the blond, Syria found her sensetive nose saturated with it. "Completely off the clock, of course. I'm used to working at bars as bartenders, bouncers, and even waitresses."

[bobby]

Bobby's grin was slightly impish, ”From the little I saw of her, I can't blame him.”

”Relax Max, Lexi isn't going to get too mad at you for being here, Not unless you start touching that is. Then she will kill you.” He added with a smirking grin, before his eyes scanned the room again.

[erik]

“I think he found something better looking than us to stare at.”

Erik only half heard the chatter going on around him as he gazed across the room at the striking brunette beauty. Although brunette might be simplifying it. Her locks were almost ebony in their shine and he found himself wondering if it was natural or one of the many talented die jobs that modern women liked to use. When she followed Sibeal to the back room, he became aware of his focused attention and had to shake himself a bit.

”From the little I saw of her, I can't blame him.”

The wolf had to smile at that comment.

"Indeed... I think any true, hot blooded man would notice a woman like that whether your married or not. I think you'd have to be dead to not appreciate a woman like that." he said easily before taking up his drink again.

For a few moments, the men at the table passed ideal chit chat and Erik explained a bit more about the owner of the bar and the young woman in charge when Derek wasn't around. He also explained that he was thinking about buying a bar here in New Orleans and turned to Max.

"Your wife mentioned something about eventually opening another club here. I was wondering if she might be interested in a partnership effort. It would be nice to have flexibility and running a club full time is not desirable to either of us. Lexi will want to spend more time at home once the baby arrives and I will have ..... things to see to that will pull me away at odd times."

As he finished, his attention was again drawn to the back hallway where the blond and the ebony haired lass paused. His instincts came alive as almost every head in the room turned to watch them and then track their progress across the floor.

[Simi James]

At Syria's words, Sibeal thought for a long moment and then shrugged.

"Sure... If you want, you can wait tables and see to guests. If anyone gets out of hand, you can either handle it yourself or get one of the bouncers. Either way, I would suggest you at least signal one of the boys in some way that your having problems so if things get out of line.. You have some back up. We pay our tabs at the end of the evening and the bartenders keep a running count of drinks so that you can take care of what is owed. You collect the money and any tips and then turn in just the drink total."

Running a hand through her long blond hair, she looked around for a moment and then noticed Erik staring in their direction. A smirk crossed her face as she smiled at the other woman.

"And for your first table...... See that group of guys at the far table? VIP section? Why don't you see how you handle them and what you make of them. Consider it a test...."

THen, giving her a wink, she walked away.

[Syria DeDarko]

When Sibeal agreed to let her help out, Syria breathed a silent sigh of relief. It was good that she would get a chance to scope out the place before going on stage as a dancer. Doing so gave her the opportunity to figure out the layout of the club, and plan up a few strategies. Plus, getting a feel for the club patrons might help her distinguish any strange persons of interest.

Smiling, Syria nodded. "Got it," she replied, not even really glancing at the table too much. She'd get a closer look at the patrons when she waited their table.

As Sibeal walked away, Syria scooted over behind the bar, set her empty cocktail glass in the sink, and grabbed one of the waitress' aprons from its perch under the counter. She tied it around her waist, and checked its pocket, glad to spy a pen and order pad already in there. Digging both out of the pocket, the palmed them, took a deep breath, and walked out from behind the bar.

Training her eyes on the VIP booth, Syria caught sight of three men. She couldn't see their faces really well, but it was evident that one of them, the blond, had been staring at her. Since he was glaring in her direction, she could see his face, and for a brief moment, she licked her lips. He looked yummy. Oh well, time to get this, interesting, party started.

She shifted her gaze down, and walked up the table. "Welcome to the Wolf's Den!" Her tone was flawlessly sweet, a total farce on her part. But was was supposed to be undercover, right? She found herself staring at the blond man intently, a sly grin plastered on her face. "My name is Anya, and I'll be your server tonight. Is there anything I can get you guys tonig---" At the moment, she looked up, and froze.

Max Blair, a hunter, who until a few months ago, she'd called a close friend, was sitting at the booth in front of her.

Shit.

[max]

Giving a smirk at the wolf’s words, Max sipped idly on his drink. He had caught only a quick view of the brunette as she walked away, but even that no other woman could ever hope to compare to the blonde goddess he loved, he could still understand Erik.

And when he was questioned about his wife opening a new club, he nodded. He liked the idea of a partner for her, especially with the baby on the way he didn’t wanted her to stress herself too much. But off course the decision would be hers to make. “It’s a good idea Erik, but you will have to take that up with her.”

The next few minutes where filled with idle conversation until Max heard a female voice and turned his head to face its source. The voice was familiar, but it wasn’t until he saw her face that it had registered. He certainly wasn’t expecting to see her there, and a surprised look crossed his features quickly, but he was quick to push that away.

“Hello Anya, a beer for me would be enough, thanks. What about you Erik?” he said trying to shift Syria’s attention to the wolf. If she was going to pretend to be someone else, she shouldn’t be staring at him like that.

Truth was that she had helped him when he and Lexi needed her most, and for that Max was grateful. If for whatever reason she was going to pretend to be someone else, well, he would just have to nod and go along with it until he had a chance to talk to her.

[erik]

Erik was no ones fool. He knew the moment the woman faltered that there was some sort of past between the pair. Arching a brow at the by play, the wolf leaned back in his seat and waited until his friend turned and asked about a drink.

"Whiskey.. on the rocks, please..." he said smoothly, as if nothing had happened to draw his attention.

Waiting for the woman to meet his gaze, the shapeshifter let his eyes rover over her and wondered just why she looked as if she had seen a ghost. Evidently, she hadn't been prepared to see the hunter in New Orleans and he had to wonder if she was one of his friends old flames. If so... Lexi might really skin Erik alive.

"The drinks are on me so please bring us to rounds, lass. We are waiting to speak with Derek so the refreshments would be welcome."