They picked their way through the streets with a lazy sort of ease, and before Silvia knew it, a strange little game was afoot. They hadn't discussed where they were headed, and neither one of them in particular seized the reins when it came to taking the lead – instead, they took it in turns, although they didn't talk about it when it came to swapping who was now in the lead. Of course, it devolved into the funniest game of chicken she'd ever played.

Because he was trying to scare her.

Without fail, when it was David's turn to take up the role of navigator, he would choose the seediest, diciest alleyways and shortcuts that were possibly within view. Regardless of how it threatened her cover, Silvia didn't balk. It was a matter of pride. She side-stepped questionable puddles without so much as a wrinkled nose, she strode into entirely unlit alleys without turning her head back to the lighter, much more open thoroughfares, and she followed him easily without huddling into his side for safety.

Better still, she played him at his own game. If it was a game of nerve he wanted to play, he'd chosen the wrong opponent. Or maybe the perfect one, all things considered. Silvia didn't know precisely what it was he was doing, either. Playing games with her, sure, that was obvious, but there was more to it. Something calculated. Trying her nerve, maybe? Or her stupidity. Testing his bounds, seeing where he could lead her and how far he could go before she complained – before fear and common sense both kicked in. Because they would have been one in the same, had she been a mortal.

But seeing as she wasn't…it was just very, very funny.

So, next time it was her turn, Silvia smiled and headed straight for filthy, rusted chain-link fence with the big scary sign that read 'NO TRESPASSING. In all of his game-playing, David had led her to territory she was very familiar with. A stretch of abandoned land by the river, the terrain was so muddy and unpleasant that even those sleeping rough didn't bother with it – instead, it was used almost exclusively by those with intentions that were anything but good.

As she slipped through a gap in the fence, taking care not to ruin her new coat, she turned and watched David follow. He didn't look scared, but she hadn't expected him to. Nor, however, did he appear baffled or curious about her choice, and that….that was annoying, honestly. In fact, once he cleared the gap in the fence he appeared far more concerned with the contents of his stolen coat's pockets than his surroundings.

Determined not to let her annoyance show, Silvia did pause and turn expectantly when he huffed a laugh.

"Would you look at that?" he produced a ring box from the coat, drawing to a stop so he could open the lid and whistle lowly. "Some poor bastard was plannin' on proposing tonight, looks like."

"If he was stupid enough to leave a rock like that unattended, he's rich enough to buy another one," she replied…but only after pausing to admire it.

Because it was a gorgeous ring.

"Here," he plucked the ring out and then threw the box aside before presenting it to her. "For you."

"For me?" she stared in disbelief.

If he hawked it, he'd be able to live on the cash for some time, vampire or no. Then again, if he planned to drain her tonight, she supposed he'd just get it back soon anyway.

"Uh-huh. Said you were the sort of gal who should have a diamond or two."

"David, is this a proposal?" she teased, holding out her hand.

"Fuck no," he snorted, sliding the ring onto the ring finger - of her right hand.

"Good," she replied. "And thank you."

She held her hand up to let the ring catch what meagre light there was, but she was aware of him watching her closely all the while.

"Good?" he asked. "Am I the wrong candidate?"

"Bruised ego?"

"My ego's stainless steel by now, sweetheart. Just curious – I thought all girls dreamed of proposals."

"What a strange way to admit you've never spoken to a woman before," she commented blandly.

"Oh come on, you know I'm right."

"In some cases, maybe. But marriage is what we're told we should want – and what we're boxed into relying on. You can't do that and then make fun of us for it. Doesn't work like that."

"So you don't, then?"

"Forever's a long time," she shrugged. "And it'll feel even longer shackled to some bore."

"Never know, you could end up widowed young. And rich."

"I'm not sure I've got that kinda luck."

"Make your own," he smirked.

Silvia laughed, admiring her shiny new ring as she did so. Yeah. She could do that. When she looked back to David, she found him finally taking real stock of their surroundings.

"You come here often?"

"Mm. Now and then."

"What for? Hot date with Jack the Ripper?"

"It'd be his son nowadays, wouldn't it?"

"Eh," he shrugged a little. "If he made his name when he was young, he could be in his fifties now. Might still be some life in the old dog yet."

"Well, if there is, he's not exerting it on me. Come on – this way."

Their shoes sank into the sludge as they walked, Silvia grasping David's forearm in a show of trying to keep herself steady. It wasn't really needed, but it helped her keep track of exact where he was and what he was doing, should he decide now was as good a time as any to go in for the kill. Because she really couldn't decide if his giving her that damn ring really was a mark of favour, or a surefire sign that he absolutely intended to have it back before the sun rose.

A few hundred feet down the bank, they came to the behemoth concrete leg of a rail bridge that spanned the water. Silvia led him around one corner, and then the next, before finally drawing to a stop at the wall that was dotted with metal rungs, forming a very dubious ladder set into the concrete.

"Leads up to the maintenance level – so they can get to the space underneath the tracks," she explained.

"And there's no security to stop the riff-raff like us gettin' to it?" he eyed it curiously.

"There was, once. Went missing or something."

That ill-fated security guard was how she knew about this place. He'd told her he knew a place and brought her here…and his boss had yet to replace him, far as she knew. But to be fair to him, the view from up there was pretty nice.

She climbed without any further preamble, and didn't even pause to see if he followed – only smiling to herself when she heard the clang of his shoes against the rungs somewhere below her, once she'd climbed up far enough for him to follow. It was a longer climb than it appeared from the ground, and they were perhaps halfway up when a train rattled by overhead, the vibrations reverberating down and down until they made her hands feel numb as they clung to each rung, her teeth buzzing in her jaw as she grinned.

They cleared the top with ease, the tail-end of the train still passing overhead as they did so, and David glanced up to where it thundered up ahead, a thoughtful look on his face. It was too loud for her to ask, but there was something about his expression that suggested he'd had an idea.

The platform was just spacious enough that neither of them had to stoop as they walked, but only just. They walked through it in silence, until they were well clear of land and walking directly over the water instead, which was when Silvia stopped. Hand resting on the rail, she lowered herself to sit on the filthy concrete, her legs dangling over the side. David joined her, pulling a cigarette pack from his pocket. Lighting one, he handed it to her, and then lit another for himself – breathing out a lungful of smoke before he spoke, paying far more attention to her than the lovely view they were afforded here of the city at night, and the way the lights reflected off of the water.

"If I ask you a question, you gonna answer it honestly?"

One eyebrow rose, and she watched him carefully. Did he share the suspicions she had of him, then?

"Depends on the question," she said.

There was his honest answer. At her answer, the corner of his lips downturned as though in appreciation. He took another slow draw of his cigarette, icy eyes pinning her in place. Silvia returned the look coolly, refusing to be cowed.

"This a character you're puttin' on?" he asked through the cigarette still dangling between his lips.

"Excuse me?"

"This whole shtick. It a character?"

Laughing lowly, she fiddled with her own cigarettes between her fingers, shaking her head. Taking a long draw, she held it, then exhaled, and then finally looked at him again.

"You really think you're important enough to me that I'd create a whole ass character to? What? Impress you? Please."

Rather than balk at how her temper threatened to flare, he grinned instead, but seemed to accept her response.

"So you're like this all the time?"

"Nobody's like anything all the time," she pointed out.

"Touché," he hummed, but the interrogation wasn't over, and his eyes remained fixed keenly upon her. "And proposals don't interest you. So what is it you want to do?"

"This," she shrugged.

"In the grand scheme of things," he clarified.

"This," Silvia repeated firmly.

And while he was trying to puzzle her out from her answers, she was trying to do the same from his questions. Why ask? Some of their kind got off on this kinda thing. Asking their marks what it was they wanted to do with their lives, all while sitting back and knowing that none of it was going to happen – that there was as much point in their planning for the next day as there was in their dreaming of the next decade, for they'd see neither.

That had never been her speed. Oh, she wasn't one of the guilty self-hating types, but there was such a thing as being too sadistic…and she'd never marked David as being that sort. Content to let him sit and stare, she smoked in silence, watching the city. Only when she'd flicked the last of it down into the water did he nudge her, handing over a fine silver flask.

"Here."

Eyeing him, she accepted it, unscrewed the stop, and took a sniff.

Oh.

Suspicions confirmed all in one – because it was blood she could smell – she bit back a smile. Because it hadn't been sadism, had it? No, it was a goddamn job interview. God, he was something. Was it that easy for him? Seem like the kinda-sorta right sort and you were in? That would get him in trouble one day.

"Nah," she handed it back to him. "I'm particular about my drinks. Doesn't smell like anything I'm interested in."

Drinking it wouldn't have done any harm, but she wanted to know what would come next. Would he try to convince her? Only a heel would try to insist that a lady takes a drink from a mysterious container. Would he let her go? Or would he not?

Sighing, he accepted it – the flask and her answer – taking a swig and then muttering something that sounded like 'damn shame'. Afterwards, he continued to watch her, and she continued to pretend she had no idea.

But they were on borrowed time. Already the sky, while hardly growing light, was not quite the deep, inky black that it had been when they'd left the speakeasy. Vampires who couldn't gauge that sort of thing with a keen eye didn't last long. If things didn't move along, they'd have time for little more than a quick hi-and-bye once everything came to light. For lack of better phrasing.

"Morning's not far off," she commented lightly.

"No, it's not," he replied.

He lifted a hand, tucking a few stray strands of hair behind her ear…and when she turned her head, he was kissing her.

From what she knew of him so far, Silvia had expected his kiss to be a rough, domineering thing – all nipping teeth, with a demanding sort of quality that could grow tiresome if not done exactly right. Instead it was slow and insistent, a hand at the base of her neck keeping her right where he wanted her, but not gripping or tugging her about like she was a damn marionette.

Silvia kissed him back, a hand at his chest, uncaring of the fact that they'd both be a mess of crimson lipstick before long. When he drew back, he kept his hand at the side of her neck, meeting her gaze when she opened her eyes.

"You sure I can't tempt you to have that drink?"

She breathed a laugh, her nose nudging his. "You're not that bad a kisser."

And he looked disappointed by that. Truly. But he masked it quickly by kissing her again, the hand at her neck disappearing so that it could be replace by his lips instead, working his way down her jaw, and to her throat. Tilting her head back, she smiled a little, the front of her foot rubbing up against the back of his leg where it dangled over the ledge, humming in response to the slow, hot kisses he left against her bare skin.

When his teeth brushed her, she barely felt it – even when he pierced the skin. He was good. And he was intending on granting her the mercy of a quick, clueless death. How sweet.

But it wasn't to be.

The moment the first drop of blood hit his tongue, he froze, and Silvia laughed softly, eyes fluttering shut as she sing-songed one word.

"Surprise."