Lita Keroln<br/>Penthouse Apartment<br/>Late Afternoon<br/><br/>She was a touch sore.<br/><br/>Well actually more then a touch and her temper was certainly fuming, simmering just under the surface as she let herself into her apartment with a sigh, kicking off her shoes and not caring when they went sliding across the marble foyer and smashed into the wall. Not even scruff marks would worsen her temper, it was simply impossible to add fuel to the fire already raging under her delicate countenance. Last night had been a bust, a failure in so many ways she didn't even want to contemplate. No one had ever stood up to her with such logic, with such surety before. Because before those she had targeted had always been corrupt. Last night had only been meant to be a gathering of information. But of course no, she had been caught and by Judah himself. The slender woman rubbed her temples as she dumped her purse on a low table and collapsed backward into a lounge chaise made of chocolate and golden velvet.<br/><br/>Judah. She couldn't stop thinking about him, about their encounter, their sparring. He had met and matched her in almost everything. And his conviction ran as deeply as her own.<br/><br/>Her blue violet eyes snapped for a moment and she shoved thoughts of the tall, dark haired and blue eyed devil who possessed her thoughts for so much of the day already. Cleo was sleeping, in the sunlight, coiled against the window in a low pet bed she had placed there just for that reason. The translator regarded her apartment with baleful eyes, there was nothing to distract her here. She climbed to her feet, slipping into her bedroom, the decor just as tasteful and high quality as the rest of her apartment. It didn't take long for Lita to change into a more comfortable outfit then the presentable suit like clothing that her work required. Low, tight dark jeans clung to her lithe legs, a loose flowing black silk shirt set off the gleams in her long dark hair which she pulled up and into a pony tail, also setting off her pale tawny skin and her forget me not eyes. The shirt rode up now and then when she walked, flashing a view of the taunt bare skin of her stomach and she slipped a dagger into the sheath she had added to her bra strap. No reason to go out unarmed.<br/><br/>She slipped on black leather boots and grabbed her purse again before locking up her apartment. She could do a little light grocery shopping for food tonight. And perhaps find something to take her frustration out on. A smirk touched her lips, pounding the faces of petty thieves might make her feel better. Yes, that might be just what the doctor ordered.