Erika walked to the front doors of the club, pulling her long coat around her. She got a few looks from some of the people around the club, as if they could tell that she were... 'different'. She ignored the stares, and stood by the door, looking to Nicodemus.

"Shall we go in? Or is it better not to? You're the professional here."

"No need to go in. Just around." He points to the small, dark opening of a grncgy alleyway nearby. A few ravers in punk clothing are standing there, just at the corner, enjoying a few drags off of their cigarettes before going in.

"That alley leads to the back. It's... quiet back there." A smile.

"I take it you've been here often." She smiled as well, walking down the alley. "How often, may I ask?"

She stared at the few people that were in the alley, getting stares in return.

"I've been coming here since it opened," Nicodemus says, following her down the alley to where it opens up, behind the rough block building of the club.

"I like it. And I enjoy te irony in the name."

"White mice... that is what they are, yes. That is all they are to me now."

She said it to herself, preparing for what she needed to do. Walking around the corner to behind the building, she looked around the dimly lit area.

Dimly lit-- all the better for vampire eyes.

Tucked into a corner where a mortal's night vision would have kept him hidden is a well-dressed young slick doing his own vampire impression-- black clothing, black trenchcoat. HYe's watching Nico and Erika with the sure knowledge that they can't possibly see into his little pocket of shadow. The smell of a very expensive kind of death lingers about him.

Erika looked to Nicodemus for a moment, then pulled her hands out of her pockets. She also pulled two black gloves out, putting them on her hands, thus completing her 'look'. The only thing that was not black on her was her face and hair, both of which seemed to glow in the darkness that was her and that was this alley.

"..."

Nicodemus bares his fangs in a smile and gestures at the pusher in the shadow-- he's all yours, the sweep of the hand says.

The man in the shadows looks a bit startled to realise that he's been spotted. One hand cautiously moves into some hidden recess of his coat. The smell of metal and saltpetre. Gunpowder.

Erika closed her eyes for a moment, after staring at the man. He looked... strange enough. She took a deep breath in, smelling the air. Something didn't seem right, so she was cautious. Why not try to use these new abilities she had? She could move so much faster now than before...

Almost in an instant, she seemed to be gone. Only to those that were 'really' watching her intently, would she be visible. It was her hope that this man was not watching that closely... that he was watching Nicodemus instead, viewing him as the threat, and not her.

Nicodemus stands where he is, watching Erika move out of the corner of his eyes. The dealer starts as Erika dissapears-- to his eyes-- and whips out the gun he had been hiding in his coat. Can't be too careful, in his line of wark, after all.

Erika seemed to appear out of nowhere, crouching behind the dealer, silently pulling the knife that she had always carried out from her black leather belt. Putting her free hand on his arm with the gun, she leaned into his back, whispering into his ear.

"Put that toy away..."

She smiled, putting the knife to his neck as she continued to hold onto his arm, squeezing it with strength that would most likely surprise the man. Closing her eyes from the feeling of adrenaline, she bit into his neck, pressing the blade of the knife roughly to it.

The crack of snapping bone fills the small alley-- apparently the young vampire doesn't yet know her strength... or possibly the criminal hadn't been drinking enough milk.

The man cries out as his arm breaks, and then breathes to cry out again as the skin of his neck is pierced, by finds a hand covering his mouth, roughly. Nicodemus, moving in more than a blur from one end of the alley to this one.

'I don't suppose that you meant kill him without feeding... Or shall I use the knife?'

Erika stopped squeezing the man's arm, feeling the bone cracking. She continued to drink from the man, the knife pressing up to his throat even more roughly. Blood started to run down from his neck, both from where the knife was and where Erika was biting.

"Follow your instinct," Nicodemus says quietly, forcing the frightened mortal's head to ones side, allowing Erika more room.

Erika simply stopped thinking and did what she wanted to do. What she felt like doing. She had never killed anyone, and did not know what it felt like, but now she was going to do it. Pulling her mouth away from the man's neck, she roughly grabbed him by the back of his coat and pressed him up against the wall.

"...."

The knife seemed to travel it's way along his neck, cutting through the skin and causing his blood to flow fully now. She brought her mouth back up to his neck, and drank again as the man started to lose conciousness.

{ooc: Have to go for now. x_x }

((See you.))

A presence by her side. Nicodemus joins her, pressing his mouth to the wound beside hers, his hand joining her in holding the thug to the wall.

Being careful at the same time as being 'brutal', Erika makes sure to keep the blood coming from the man's neck away from anything but her mouth. Her eyes now close, as they normally did now when she fed.

For some reason, it felt as if she had broken free of some sort of 'prison' in her mind. She felt like she could do more. After a few moments, she released her grip on the man, feeling no life coming from him. She pulled away a few steps, looking around to see if anyone else was there, and brought her knife up to her mouth, licking off the blood.

Nicodemus had finished some moments earlier, and now stood calmly to one side, hands in pockets.

After a bit, he asks, "Do you want to join the Nephim?"

"A good question for me to ask before I answer would be what is the real reason that you want me to join? I don't buy that 'taking me under your wing'. You don't seem like the type to care."

She put her knife back onto her belt, glancing around again as if someone were watching.

Nicodemus smiles, his teeth tinted just faintly red.

"It's not a cult, if that's what you're worried about." He pauses. "I don't feel that you'd necessarily buy anything I said... especially since taking you under my wing is pretty much the truth." A shrug. No better way to express it.

"If that is all you can say, then I suppose I will join you. It's better than having no one."

She sighed, looking over her shoulder every few minutes.

"I swear, it feels like there is someone else here. Am I imagining things?"

"You might be imagining things," nicodemus says, moving up to Erika. He brings his wrist to his mouth and, using the sharp point of one fang to slice a vein open. A tiny trickle of blood appears, and that only because he's just fed.

He offers his wrist to Erika.

"Hm. So this is what has to be done. A transfer?"

She took his wrist, bringing it up to her mouth, and drank at Nicodemus's blood. It tasted different. Better. After a few moments, she pulled away.

"And do you have to drink mine? Or should I ask... would you like to?"

Nicodemus rubs his wrist, nodding yes to her question about he drinking of her.

"You'll find it's more... symbolic," he murmurs. "A way of including the initiate vampire in the blood of the coven without the initiate having been turned by one of the coven."

"Symbolism. If you say so."

She did the same thing that he did, cutting her own vein open slightly. She held it up to Nico for him to drink, doing it in a way as if she had done this kind of thing before.

He takes her arm gently and bends down, pressing his lips against the wound for something that qualifies more as a sip than a suck.

Straightening, he licks his lips and says, "Welcome to the Nephim."

"Hm... that is it... then? I'm a part of you?"

She took her wrist back, pulling her glove back over the part that she had pulled away. It seemed as if that was much too easy.

"If you would prefer a large ceremony with a banquet afterwards?" He arches an eyebrow. "You've fed with the head of the Nephim. You've taken his blood-- he's taken yours. It seems enough."

"There is no need to be sarcastic."

She rubbed her eyes a bit, stretching her neck as well.

"What shall we do with the body? Will anyone discover it back here?"

"it wasn't meant in a rude way..." he says, turning to eye the crumpled form of the former drug dealer.

"It will be discovered, eventually. We need to clean up. Make it look like something that won't confuse the coroners quite so much."

"Hm. Simple enough... I suppose that the knife did that already. It was a homicide, probably over a drug dispute. That is what they will say."

She smiled, staring at the dead body as well.

"Regardless, there's one less person they have to worry about."

"And the blood loss? And did you leave any bites?" he asks, simply checing. Throughness can save secrecy.

"The knife took care of those as well. It simply looks as if his throat was slashed multiple times. You do not have to worry about secrecy with me. I know what to do."

Even though she hadn't done anything like this before, she felt as if she knew exactly what she needed to do. She had used a knife plenty of times, mostly in self-defense. But she knew how to use it well.

Nicodemus smiles. "Good."

A pause.

"Then perhaps I should show you the private area of the Nephim?"

"Only if you feel the need to."

She stretched out completely now, feeling somewhat better about herself. She had just unleashed what she could do, and she felt as if she had broken free of the 'prey' instinct.

"We'll need to find you a place there, to protect from the day," he says, with a nod.

"Meet me at the old church in a hour?"

((You make the board?))