Submitted For Feedback- "Schemes"
With Mandalay Bay booked to capacity, one might guess -- quite accurately -- that its staff and management had their hands full behind the scenes. It was a virtual melee making sure that each guest was satisfied with the unique experience promised to them when credit cards gave up their account numbers in exchange for a high-class Vegas experience.

Meanwhile, in the dining room of its ultra-chic establishment called Aureole, the night felt young and the wine ran freely. Its stark decor and towering glass-and-steel repository of bottles made the place a tribute to the sleek elegance and extravagant cool that could be found so near to the blatant tourism of the slots. It was the sort of place where people spoke in intimate murmurs and women’s heels tapped sensual promise against the floors.

In the midst of it, Darian stood with his hands in pockets, and he watched the catlike rappelling of a staff member inside the wine tower as she searched for a particular wine bottle. That he stared didn’t bother him. Harness aside, he had a magnificent view of her ass.

Perhaps part of the reason for meeting in such a place, was simply the excuse to interject a smattering of sexual innuendo into the invitation. If nothing else, the venue's name would have appealed to Erato's sense of humor.

Upon her arrival, of course, the brunette was blessed in the guise of any other two-legged human female, even if she was anything but. Quite how she managed to achieve it was something of a mystery. Was it a mere optical illusion or a genuine product of some physical transformation?

On the other hand, did it even matter, when she could wear dresses like that...?

Her conversation with the vampire, Deanna, had thrown up a most interesting set of clues. It seemed that helping to save Star Tomlin's life had certain benefits after all, and the Lamia had resolved to visit the young woman again, one of these days.

But not before her business here was done.

"Darian..." Greeting him with a polished smile, Erato held out hand in an appeal to his sense of gentlemanly formality. He might not care much for humanity, but she was aware he was not averse to indulging in courtship rituals typically attributed to his masculine guise. "So glad you could make it."

Darian took her hand and indulged his curiosity by looking over his arrived companion. He allowed himself to pay particular attention to her legs, the absence of snakelike tail chiefly upon his mind. Erato’s beauty was obvious. But just what physiology her legs climbed towards beneath that dress? A mystery entirely.

At times he wondered if not knowing was why she held sex appeal.

True, some men and women might’ve known well. Whether or not they lived past the revelation was debatable.

“I’d be hard-pressed to find a reason not to,” he admitted. Over the ages they’d been acquainted, he always held her in high regard. Eye candy was a side benefit. “The table’s this way.” Darian touched her back without asking and steered her along.

Elfleda was not the only supernatural entity to appreciate him acting as a consort. Erato, at least, had a much more positive side, not to mention physical one. She enjoyed the protective proximity of one so capable and acquiesced to his ushering manner, although had other reasons, too, for turning on the charm that evening.

Taking her seat, the brunette smiled graciously at a passing member of staff. Hmm... Tasty. Now, however, was not the time to think of nutritional considerations.

"I have reason to ask a favor of you, this evening..."

Across the short space of white linen, Darian settled into a chair and straightened his tie. “Should I feign surprise or just act natural?” he asked. There was unmistakably a tone to his voice, but with an ambiguous origin. The most he gave away was an oddly placed resignation. Of course it wouldn’t be a social call. He didn’t like social calls. But the favor...

Favors weren’t deals. They were freebies, and on occasion, command performances orchestrated by some powerful yet irresistible demoness into sounding like a good idea. Darian paused while the waiter opened a bottle he had requested prior to Erato’s arrival. Once poured, staff left, and the Dealmaker looked at his companion.

“By all means, continue. The suspense is killing me,” he said.

Resting chin upon the back of one hand, Erato always made a point of at least seeming graceful, even when issuing a threat, if it could at all be helped. In situations such as these, her body language and tone of voice were deliberately charming, undoubtedly helped by some sort of magical assistance, although quite whether the latter took the form of incantations, natural aura or a combination of both, who could really say? They specialized in seduction and it could arise as easily in business dealings as in the deliberate sexual lurings of a prospective partner.

That was not to say those with whom she conversed were a slave to such tactics, by any means. Or even that they were never mistaken. Her kind merely sought to gain an edge when it came to sweetening arrangements. Like any creature, they had their strengths and weaknesses. Both could be used to exploit or be exploited, in turn.

"I am told you have performed a... Function," Erato spoke, deciding to be tactful, given their public surroundings. "A certain tampering with the nature of time... Would I be correct in this?"

“Word travels quickly,” said the demon. Nothing but a crease between the eyes upset his blank look. Darian drank the wine and found the experience nondescript, though the fault for that probably lay with distraction, rather than dissatisfaction. After swallowing he went on. “I made a deal. A vampire chewed on the wrong person. A relative of hers asked me to deal with the vampire. I sent her back. It was either that or kill her.”

He gave thought to Roberta Slesinger, the woman with whom he struck the bargain. Darian wondered if she had run her mouth. The consequences of that could be far-reaching. For instance, his face trapped beneath the heel of Bethany’s stiletto, and not in the context he enjoyed.

But then, he’d known that was a risk all along.

Darian supposed he had a thing for pushing buttons.

"I see..."

Erato's kind had great power, but also the wisdom with which to wield it. If she was a typical example, then they applied it conservatively. A word in the right ear here, a caress of hair there, a suggestive flash of skin somewhere else... Erato's could be a very reserved path, at times.

So it was that she had elicited this information with little more than listening to the right vampire and, in turn, now asking the right question. There were no truth-telling spells at work here. Just honest detective work.

None, at least, in this particular instance.

"Darian..." Now she smiled in a most charming manner. Her voice soothing, body language attentive. "I fear a companion of mine has been swept up in your scheme. This is most perplexing... She is young, unskilled. What might it take for this situation to be reversed?"

The demon leaned back from the table. Giving a pensive look, he closed his fingers around a linen napkin and unpeeled its fold. For all of the Lamia‘s slick posturing, Darian knew her for what she was. Erato was an aural massage of persuasion, a suggestion writhing itself across a slick floor, playful female and sinful serpent combined into a creature he found beguiling...

But duped he was not. Feminine charm was no good to him, if it was detrimental to his livelihood.

“It’s hardly a scheme, Erato. It’s in my blood. Tit for tat. What would you have me tell Ms. Slesinger? That I’m willing to reverse what I’ve done to the vampire... Give her a second go at immortality in the twenty-first century... But it’s a shame her beloved sister can’t be afforded the same opportunity.” The Dealmaker reached inside his coat and withdrew the locket offered as trade for Victoria’s modern unlife. He opened the clasp, and the photograph of the sisters faced outward.

Erato slipped gaze down to what had been registered by suggestion, her own set of fingers passing over the back of Darian's, steadying the memento for partially admiring perusal. She recognized the reason for why it must have been taken and that made it something of a treasure.

A treasure with pictographic identification.

After a moment, Erato blinked back to his face, smiling softly. "What care have you for this woman...? Why should this be explained to her?" A pause. A favor of her own being considered and now presented. "Or were death to visit her, would this release you from obligations?"

Darian wound the necklace around his fist and took it back. “I’d hardly refer to us as chums. It’s her sacrifice that matters to me; the trade she made, in exchange for solace after her sister’s murder. Call it untraditional methodology.”

He nudged his glass of wine but didn’t drink any more. “Her request was that the vampire be gone. That she not have to share the world with her...” he paused, gave a meaningful look, “A rather interesting choice of words, I’m sure you realize. Almost compromising. Regardless, I had interests that convinced me not to try and off Victoria, so I sent her on a one-way trip instead.”

Darian paused there, looked over.

“You know that I can’t break a deal without significant personal set-backs, and I’m too self-centered to take one for the team. As long as Roberta Slesinger is alive and paid in full, I’m obligated to leave Victoria wherever she landed. Take it however you want.”

How long had Erato existed? Mere centuries or thousands of years? Or should her longevity be more accurately gauged in millennia?

Whichever the correct unit of measurement - if, indeed, time was something which existed for the Lamiae - experience would guarantee her memory could be frightfully good, especially when in pursuit of some identified quarry. For her, the Slesinger woman now potentially numbered amongst the latter.

"Then I shall endeavor to make this matter easier for you to conclude..." There was a slight inclining motion of the head, like a miniature bow. It was portrayed as a service, but Erato kept that ancient gaze locked upon his own, for this task was primarily to help the absent Leah. "Instinct would inform you when this is so, yes?"

Whereas the woman inclined her head, Darian kept his locked straight ahead. “It would. May I ask you a question, Erato?” The silence that followed was just a gesture, eradicated before the Lamia could even nod. “Why Roberta’s life for Leah‘s?”

In that, an admission that Darian knew the collateral damage his handiwork caused. A trap meant for Victoria ensnared Leah Allen as well. “After all,” he said, “The hybrid wasn’t sentenced to death. Neither was the vampire... Quite the opposite actually. But you would murder a virtual innocent to correct a wrinkle in time. Why?”

Hailing a passing waiter, Erato requested a wine for herself. Unlike Leah's recent offering of modern, processed hot chocolate, it was the one beverage most creatures down the ages would recognize for what it was.

"Because I made certain agreements with her," the brunette elaborated, once a moment's deliberation had passed. "And she is... Puzzlingly naive. Misfortune does not always befall us in predictable ways, Darian."

Not quite 'air-headed', no and Erato would never use such a petty label, but Leah was not the most intellectual member of Las Vegas' supernatural community. A certain incident, back in Buffalo, New York, had led Erato to the conclusion that the girl sometimes lacked in common sense, too.

"The girl hopes to become something of a student," the Lamia continued. "I have promised this, also. Besides which... I could do with a hunt."

With a more telling variety of smile being passed Darian's way, Erato's attention was called to the glass now passed her way. Fingers alighting themselves at the vessel's stem to claim it within her sipping possession.

It was, as she maintained, both in a noble cause and an excuse to satisfy hungers. Business and pleasure. Why not?

The absence of traditional morality wasn’t a shock. Though they lived in a very modern, very human world, both Darian and Erato were demonic creatures of some stature and infamy, to varying degrees of course. Transgressions against the welfare of people were commonplace... Almost expected. Anyone who forgot it lost respect and reputation. They might also find themselves playing host to an unexpected and unpleasant guest named Elfleda.

Darian rubbed a knuckle against his bottom lip. A gold cufflink flashed. “I’ve done you no favor,” he hedged, and he was careful in how he verbalized the results of their conversation. The fairness of his deals was paramount. It was like placing items on a scale and deciding when they had balanced. “I haven’t harmed Ms. Slesinger, and whether or not you locate her is yet to be seen. As long as she lives, my arrangement with Victoria will stand. What you’re asking is that I reverse the bargain, should my associate... expire.”

Darian’s eyes roamed the restaurant. “Is that right?”

"It is," the inhuman woman replied, serpentine gaze fixed ahead. "This is precisely what I ask."

With no complaints having been lodged over the suggestion, the female of those two brunettes deemed this a well-met deal, considering the nature of who she now conversed with.

Perhaps there was just a touch of the mediaeval now emerging in Las Vegas. Their scheming might not have been too out of place in some Shakespearean tragedy. Had a certain Russian's mother been there, then there would even have been a contemporary Lady Macbeth thrown into the mix.

"You have no protest, as to this?" It was wise to ascertain just where his feelings might lay, should any even exist.

Having given the arrangement all the thought it deserved, Darian shook his head. “No protest.” He drained a bit more from the wine glass. Though his lover -- former? current? -- hadn’t heard of his role in Victoria’s disappearance, this demon knew when not to press his luck. Perhaps now Bethany would have no reason to know.

Unless...

Darian’s eyebrows twitched. “Erato, who told you it was me?”

Now, there was a question, wasn't it?

Erato kept utterly calm on the outside. Her very nature demanded she be an expert in body language and how to command it. There remained, however, the matter of quite whether to bring young Star back into her companion's thoughts. It would be quite a waste to simply throw the girl back to her personal wolf again, after having only just assisted in her recovery form the same.

"A little guesswork and divination go a long way, Darian," the Lamia smiled. "Allow a lady to keep some of her secrets, hmm?"

It was not a lie, so much as misdirection. Erato had, indeed, successfully felt the magical residue of the spell's effect. Likewise, she had guessed Deanna's part in all of this.

"Believe me," she reassured, hand placing itself over his, "no harm was done to you or your reputation... Quite the opposite, in fact."

Because Star had recently been given reason to fear Darian's sudden reappearance in her life, more than ever.

But the witch was the furthest thing from his mind. For a change, Darian had downshifted from devil-may-care to seeming dissatisfied.

When the deal was originally proposed by Ms. Slesinger, he had mentally sifted through those that would be hurt by Victoria’s disappearance... Sifted and done it anyway, practically pouring kerosene on recently forged bridges and dangling a match. Now it was almost as if he regretted it. And that would represent a significant changing of the guard in how Darian interacted with the world.

Perhaps that fact, more than what Bethany or Deanna might think, bothered him the most.

Despite inner discomfort, he gave her hand the requisite squeeze and a bemused look. “Your concern isn‘t necessary. But this never goes astray.” Darian gave her knuckles a kiss that was just shy of gentlemanly.

Once he let go, Darian finished his wine and straightened his jacket. “I have another obligation tonight. You’re welcome to tag along, but I’ve a feeling you have plans of your own.”

"I have..." Not for the first time, Erato offered him a wink, now pleased with the way this situation had concluded. All it would take to be rectified was to take a life.

Hardly the most difficult task in the world, for one of her skills and experience. It would, nevertheless, dictate a sort of poetic justice to the whole thing. This human female of which he spoke had, of course, been advised not to mess in such dark arts.

And Roberta had wished not to share this world with the vampiress so condemned... A request soon to be granted in what was perhaps an unintentional way.

At least she would soon be rejoining her sister.

"I bid you farewell," Erato smiled and drained at the lip of her own glass, watching the figure depart. "May the taste of our meetings always be so pleasant."