"Who are you and what are you doing in my house?"
Arya whipped around to the cold voice, dropping her hand from touching the marble statue. She arranged her features into a polite smile as she stared into narrowed green eyes.

"Kupler sent me. He paid for an hour," she replied calmly. Her hands raised like she was trying not to frighten a skittish animal.

The man however was not the least bit impressed. His fists clenched at his sides. "Get out," he spat.
If Arya wasn't obligated to stay she would've taken for the hills. In his dark robes, fierce green eyes and autocratic demeanour he scared the hell out of her. But she wouldn't be in the business of blood bag if every creature of night made her run.

Slowly, she shook her head. "No can do, mister. I can't leave until my hour is up. You either enjoy my blood or my riveting company till then."

The man looked outraged. His silver hair reflected the ceiling lights and shadowed his face. His fangs made a brief appearance in silent warning. Arya couldn't leave honestly. If she did she would have to return the money Kupler paid her (which was a lot) and also break a contract (which would earn her a week...