Trix has always been a shadow. An expert in covert entry, she's managed to sneak into places very few even get to see. Always unnoticed, she doesn't bother with the frivolity of calling cards and reputation. She's practicing strictly on business, and she keeps her identity and her practices well separated.

Tonight, she's on a mission in Contrecoeur; infiltrating the Vampiric palace of the reigning family. A risky endeavor, but she's done it once before. You just have to prepare accordingly. Drink blessed tea. Carry a silver crucifix, holy water. Cast stealth wards. Everything to go unnoticed, and protection that avoids detection.

The masked mouse carefully sneaks in. Patient, she waits for the optimal opportunity to slip though a lax in surveillance. She carefully makes her way to the archives room; rows upon rows of bookshelves filled with tomes and parchments of all natures. Quiet and unseen, she sifts though this old collection, until she gets her paws on something she know will fetch a fair price; a contact of hers confirming it has a buyer. She slips the volume into her pack, more than ready to depart the unsettling establishment.

As she makes her way, however, the sound of footsteps send a chill down her spine. They're coming closer. Anxious, but keeping her head in the game, she quietly slips between the bookshelves, heading as fast a safely possible to the exit she's planned out, trying to ignore the nervous knot trying her stomach. Before she can make it, unfortunately, a masculine, authoritative voice stops her dead in her tracks.

Leaving so soon? Why the rush, won't you stay for a while~?

Stunned, every fiber of Trix's being is telling her to run; but unexplainably, she's frozen in place, unable to escape the approaching footsteps. In the dark hallways, the lonesome mouse feels even smaller than usual, as the looming figure approaches, eyes like burning embers and an unnerving sharp smile. Trix manages to grasp onto the silver cross at her hip; unaware that's precisely what seals her doom. Has she kept it hidden, she might've gotten the chance to surprise the night walker with it. Alas, she didn't think of that.

Seeing the trembling prey at his feet, Xaldriel's smile grows wide. Her heart beats rapidly, pumping all of her warm, delicious blood around her system, exuding a heady aroma. But he's well trained, and keeping his composure is far from a struggle. He quickly notices the shine; and, loftily, he tilts his head and addresses the intruder once more.

Oh, is that what I think it is~? Hand it over, would you?

He orders, speech laced in irresistible vampiric charm, holding out a gloved hand. Despite knowing the consequences, Trix cannot resit; and her hands, like moving on their own, deposit the blessed adornment into the shielded claws of her captor, who hurries to take it out of her reach with a pleased chuckle.

Came in prepared, have you?

The crucifix slips out of sight; and the vampire reaches down, to grab the masked mouse's face, peering down into her dark, frightened eyes with authority.

But not enough, I'm afraid.

Still under his spell, Trix doesn't have the force in her to fight back, to escape; she's unable to look away from his unwavering stare. They stand still for what feels like forever; Trix's breath unsteady, fighting back tears, words stuck in her throat; and Xaldriel, imposing, seemingly enjoying the moment. Slowly, he pulls off his glove with his teeth, and peels the mask away from her snout, revealing her face. His grip tightens along her jaw, moving her head around to get a good look when he finally speaks up again.

It's most impressive you've made it this far, however... It's not the first time you've paid us a visit, has it? No wonder your luck's run out.

Still maintaining a firm hold onto her, he slips his other hand into her bag, immediately pulling out the book she'd stashed away. He looks at it a moment, followed by an inconclusive "hm". He straightens back up, shifting his grip fron her jaw to her neck, and lifting her off the ground with ease. She instinctively grabs onto the man's wrists, trying to alleviate the strain on her column, a pitiful squeal escaping her. He pays it no mind, leisurely strolling to put the tome back where it belongs, as his capture wriggles, her mind and body finally under her own control. Too late, unfortunately.

As she's uncomfortably carried along the side of the grand room, she suddenly notices her exit. Adrenaline rushes through her. Hope. As subtly as she can, reaches for her last resort; a small vial of holy water, buried deep in her pockets; nothing that would kill him; with how easily he's beguiled her, a simple splash wouldn't be enough; but it might just be able to afford her the precious second or two she needs to escape.... As they approach, she feigns weakening, subtly shifting to grab the vial; calculating, waiting for just the right moment, the perfect opportunity, the single moment that would allow her to slip away... The grip on her loosens- NOW!

But her desperate attempt is thwarted as soon as she put it into motion. Sensing her foul play, Xaldriel slams the mouse against the stone wall, the impact making her drop the vital vial, which shatters on the floor, spilling it's precious contents. Firmly pinned, Trix struggles to breathe, as Xaldriel's eyes shimmer menacingly, his mouth twisted in a sadistic smile.

Not giving up, are we?

The sharp claw of his thumb drags along her cheek, coming uncomfortably close to her eye, which widen in fear. Her red, warm blood pearls along the shallow wound; Xaldriel wipes off before giving it a taste, not shying away from displaying his razor sharp canines.

Hawthorne tea, hm? Expected, at this point. Not that it matters, it'll wash out of your system soon enough. I'm in no rush.

The pressure on Trix chest increases; Xalriel leaning into her until their faces nearly touch; the vampire's only breath to carry his words;

Worry not, little thief; I won't give you the mercy of death.

That's the last thing Trix hears; her vision fading as she looses consciousness.