The dark streets of Ghost Town were dusted with snow and shadows. Apparitions and Torments.

Their whispers she would hear well. The visit of the Siren and her feeble attempts to seduce Lani's consort and bonded had been nothing short of amusing and the summoning of the remainder of the covenant did nothing more then intrigue the Valendria witch.

The Sinners and Shadow born, the Lusting and those drenched in desire had seemed to prowl and haunt the energy patterns that Laniandra was well known to.

Her fingers touched on ley lines known by unseen eyes, a loving caress. Tender stroking touches of fingertips in an alluring seduction. Arousing that magic in simple ways.

Never was the seduction, the allure, or the arousing rise of energy enforced or pushed. No, some things came with practice, some things came naturally.

Head tipped back and she breathed in the night. Uncurling fingers for palms to be licked and nosed at by the shadow beasts, her hidden 'pets' of the night.

Long had she known them.

These vain attempts were fragile things. Easily breakable.

A shiver of energy chased her spine, spilling over her shoulders and crawling down her wrists to dance on fingertips.

Shadow dark claim.

Head thrown back and her eyes closed but still would see. Touched upon her magic-bonded. A tap, a touch of his energy.

Light in intertwine with dark for a whisper word of notice. Never warning. There was nothing to fear when she was just another dark Mare of Night.

Silas would want to know after all. It would likely fascinate him. Another touch to lines. Another bond in kindle.

The cords of golden sparks that ever would be Krysanthe.

Never test the nature of the wicked, for they will not rest.... and the call... the acknowledgement... had been heeded well.