The diner was cool, a respite from what was surely to be a muggy evening. The linoleum squeaked as Lucella stepped inside, the door swinging slowly shut behind her. She scanned the room, a handful of booths and a plastic-coated bar. Standard neighborhood dive. Then she saw him. The picture of ease, he looked totally out of place and yet perfectly comfortable reclining into the red vinyl of the corner booth, a cup of coffee steaming on the table before him. His eyes glittered even in the unflattering glare of the fluorescent lights, and his dark hair looked artfully tousled. His vest was still unbuttoned over his white shirt, and she could see the faint play of muscle underneath.<br/><br/>He smiled at her, an impish grin stretching across his pale features. It was a look, not of mockery, but of playful invitation.<span style="font-style: italic">Tag, you're it.</span>A waitress laden with a tray of food moved in front of him on her way to a family of four, and when she was was past he was simply gone. Lucella flinched, fear lancing through her as she spun around. Nope. He was, whole and truly, gone. An engine revved just outside and accelerated down the road.<span style="font-style: italic">Did he..? No, no way. Too modern.</span>She shook her head and walked slowly over to the booth he'd just left. A crumpled dollar bill and a small handful of change lay innocently next to the still-hot cup of coffee. She could see the white corner of yet another envelope peeking out from beneath it, and she slid into the booth.<br/><br/>It was still warm, and there was the faintest tang of something.. Aftershave? Cologne? It was fresh and woodsy, like a rainstorm in the forest at the edge of a coastline.<span style="font-style: italic">Goddamn it, dead people shouldn't smell nice. It's just.... Wrong.</span>She shook herself firmly and reached toward the coffee. She suddenly felt faintly uncomfortable with it sitting there. What if he'd decided to have a taste? She shivered, pushing it to the other end of the table. She picked up the envelope and opened it. Once again she found herself smirking as she read. Did he really want to play this sort of game with her? She was one of the highest-ranking vampire hunters in the city, if not the entire state of ((where the hell is this taking place?  !eyebrow .))<br/><br/>She crooked an eyebrow as she finished reading, the smile sliding off her face. Garden? Shit, the city was full of them. White roses? Cherubs? Like She's ever had enough time to herself to take a leisurely stroll through a place like that. She also realized that he hadn't yet given her any sort of time frame for these meetings. Did he expect her to spend all night traipsing across the city on his every whim? She knew though that she had no choice. If she didn't play his game he'd find her when she wasn't expecting it and, most likely, vulnerable. Constant vigilance only works if you never actually sleep.<span style="font-style: italic">Like some people, obviously.</span><br/><br/>"Excuse me?" A light voice asked at her shoulder. Lucella glanced up and the waitress smiled warmly at her. "Was that your friend sitting here? He ordered a coffee but I don't know where he went. I'm sorry you missed him. Can I get you anything?" She gently shook the carafe in her hand.<br/>"Ah, yeah. A coffee please. With creamer."<span style="font-style: italic">Might as well, looks like I'm gonna be up all night anyway...</span>She settled back into the booth with a creak and pondered her target.<br/><br/>She'd been tracking him for almost three weeks, and yet she had yet to learn his name, where he came from, where he was staying, or even how long he'd been in the city. This last bit bothered her most, because it proved that he was good at moving about undetected. The only thing she'd found to put her on his trail in the first place had been that one death, the gang-banger wannabe found bone-dry in an alleyway a month ago. No more dead, no strange hospital cases. Yes, he was very, very good. The waitress had returned with a cup of hot coffee and a small bowl of creamer buckets. Lucella cracked one open, mixed it and the sugar in her cup, and sipped her coffee, thinking- how to beat him at his own game and still survive, how to afford cab fare to find her way around to all his little hot spots, where the hell these white roses might be- all the while trying to ignore the way her stomach had tightened when she'd looked him in the eye.<br/><br/>((who's long-winded now?  XD ))