The Lying Game || Adrien ||

[Evelyn van Buren]

The music at Eternity had a peculiar quality to it that most clubs didn't - it was much quieter here, and even the bass wasn't as magnified as it had been at a few of the human clubs Evelyn had visited.

Evelyn was grateful for that. Eternity was the only club she could step into and not be assaulted by a barrage of sound that made her sway in her four-inch python-print heels. She loved that she could actually walk around without having to deaden her hearing, because everyone else around her didn't need the music to be particularly loud. Everyone else had super-sensitive hearing just like she did.

There was something beautiful about being in a roomful of immortal, she reflected sagely, making her way past the bouncer and irritated faces of the Lycans and Vampires in line outside. There was something even better about never having to wait in line outside Eternity.

She let her henchmen clear the way for her as they moved through the ground floor. Evelyn was always careful about her appearance whenever she mingled with her own kind. There were rogue Lycans here, and it was essential she ensure they knew to steer clear of her. In a devil-red wrap dress and a gunmetal military-style jacket left undone, her normally wavy dark hair pulled back into a tight ponytail, she made a foreboding figure as she strode purposefully through the crowd.

Avoiding the dance floor, Evelyn headed for the set of roped-off stairs at the back of the room, passing the crowded bar. She wasn't here for leisure this time.

Strolling through the barrier, up the plush carpeted stairs and down an upstairs hallway, she paused beside a set of cherry wood doors. Wondering what fresh aggravation awaited her today–the week had been going so good so far–she knocked twice, curtly, and was admitted by a uniformed Vampire. Entering the wood-panelled private lounge, she bade her Lycan guards wait just outside the doors and turned to shoot the Vampire a steely look.

He nodded at her and left the room as well. Evelyn turned to face the floor-to-ceiling one-way windows along one wall that overlooked the dance floor below. She wasn't alone. She could smell the other Vampire in this room beyond his cologne. Vampires had a certain smell, a sickeningly sweet, cloying scent, which made the hair rise on the back of her neck.

She moved forwards, a cordial smile on her face, her purposeful stride changing to an unhurried walk as she went slowly toward one of the single-seater leather sofas in the centre of the room. Sinking down in it, she crossed her bare legs and absently adjusted the hem of her dress.

"Evening," she greeted the Vampire, still not looking at him as she reached over to the coffee table between them and poured herself half a glass of bright red wine from a silver tray set with glasses and bottles courtesy of Eternity (and Jayde, she figured, one of the few Vampires she got along with). After a momentary hesitation, she poured out another half glass for him and set the bottle back, taking up one of the glasses and leaning back comfortably into her seat.

Finally, she deigned to flash him a half-smile. "Traffic," she said by way of explaining her lateness. "Hope I didn't leave you waiting long. Rest assured I'm terribly eager to continue these exciting talks we have." A sharp remark was on the tip of her tongue, but for now, she held back. She didn't know enough about him to antagonize him...yet.

[Adrien Célestin Chevalier]

Sky-blue eyes glanced down at a wrist-watch, the ever-present frown on the man's lips curving downwards a bit further. The Vampire stood up and strode over to a window, pressing a button on the wall which opened the curtains and revealed the club. In the private room, the music was entirely blocked and only a quiet bass could be heard. The Second slid his hands into his dress-pants pockets and looked ahead, observing the outside scene in silence. He could never be like this people, so carefree, talking so freely, smiling and cracking jokes, letting loose, mingling so casually among the other race... The only reason Adrien was here, awaiting for the Lt. of the Lycans, was because it was his duty. It was not for pleasantries. In fact, it was far from it. Each meeting was uncomfortable and it was clear that neither wanted to be there, holding a deep-rooted hate for the opposing races. At times, the male Vampire admired Alexandria for her peaceful mindset and love for everything, not harboring any ill-will towards anyone, even Lycans or humans, both of which nearly killed her when she was a mortal. But it was unrealistic, the man felt. He could never reach her level of morality and love the Lycans. Adrien could hardly tolerate them, flashes of his wife's brutal murder always plaguing his mind when he was around the revolting wolves. They were barbaric, blood-thirsty creatures that deserved no pity and each day the Vampire hoped they would all drop dead from a disease, desiring to avoid a full-out war since it would inevitably draw in the humans and then all of the races would be in danger.

The man pressed the button to close the curtains, his heightened hearing picking up on a set of heels outside and heading towards the room. Adrien closed his eyes and took a deep breath to prepare himself as the doorknob turned and the door opened. A pair of high-heels tapped on the floor. Even with the woman wearing heels, his height was imposing and he clearly would have towered over her if the man stood before the woman. When he heard her reach the couch and sit down, the Vampire turned around and opened his eyes, remarking in a serious, low, and cold tone, "You're late."

He stared at her icily, watching her movements and expression and listening to her tone of voice (one that annoyed him immensely, as all Lycans did.) At her excuse for being late, he simply gazed at her and internally scoffed, 'Likely.'[/i]

Adrien walked over to the woman and took the glass, careful to avoid touching her. He had to force himself to not wrinkle his nose in disgust, the smell of dirty dog filling his senses. The Vampire rose the drink to his lips, inhaling the scent of the wine in order to cover up her stench. "They are far from... exciting. But our conversations are necessary unless we want the rogues to spill our secrets to the humans." Adrien avoided saying war, for he could sense in the female and knew in himself that if a war broke out between the races, neither would care. In fact, they would be glad. The two clearly hated the other, person and race. "If they discover our existence, chaos will ensue and both Lycans and Vampires will be in danger."

The Vampire pressed his lips on the glass and tilted it, some of the liquid sliding smoothly down his throat. After a few sips, he took away the drink and held it out, starting directly at Evelyn with a hardened and coldly stern expression, saying, "So I would save your sarcasm for another time and for someone who cares, Evelyn van Buren, so we can get down to business. I do not wish to stay here all night either."

[Evelyn van Buren]

Just hearing his voice–so smooth and evenly toned, tailored to bite–was enough to make Evelyn want to grind her teeth. Adrien had always, to her, seemed to have a particularly prickly stick up his arse. Tonight was no different. She hadn't expected it to be either.

She wondered how many of his employees spit in his drink every time they had to serve him. If he'd had his back turned, she might have considered doing the same just to make herself feel better. Their meetings always left her feeling like she'd slammed her head against an ice block, several hundred times.

Instead of replying, she reached up with her free hand to tuck a stray strand of brown hair behind her ear, trying not to clench her jaw. If he didn't stop being a condescending glacier and start contributing, she was going to say something she'd regret.

She did not, after all, want him to snap and retaliate. Or did she? The prospect made her smile inside.

"Did you think I wasn't aware of the dangers posed by rogues, Adrien?" she replied frostily. Since he was always so formal with her, she felt an inexplicable urge to use only his first name in the hopes it would annoy him.

Why did he feel a need to treat her like she was a child? She was aware he was a good few hundred centuries older than her, but she hadn't been born yesterday either.

"Rest assured they are on my mind far more often than I'd like them to be. I presume you brought them up for good reason." It was a statement more than a question. He usually never said anything unless he meant something more by it. Small talk was probably nonexistent in Adrien's vocabulary. Evelyn leaned back in her seat, took a quick sip of wine and levelled her steely, golden-brown eyes at him.

"So?" Her tone was part-weary, part-tolerant, like he was a particularly misbehaving child she was putting up with. "Which one of the rogues was it this time?"

It usually always was the rogues. Outside of pack control, they ran rampant destroying all of Viktor's attempts at peace. Though she never had liked the uneasy farce of a truce, she hated this kind of destruction even more. So wasteful and all it did was make the pack look bad. Evelyn often found it hard to decide between which she hated more: all Vampires or rogue Lycans.