At last, they were leaving Russia, and Lucas was very pleased about it. Moscow and the Hunt had been great, but he was ready to go somewhere where he didn't feel like his toes were going to fall off. Jersey winters had absolutely nothing on Russian ones.
He'd been in his trailer at midnight, as instructed, and only emerged once the clock said it was nearly dawn. Better to be safe than sorry, when it came to magic. It was habit by now, and not one he was likely to break quickly. A wave of humid warmth greeted him as he stepped out, and he inhaled the sticky air into his lungs. This would do. This was better. He could be outside more, fly around and stretch his wings for a while. But later. Now it was time to eat.
He heard a laugh over near the Lagoon, and headed in that direction. He got there in time to see the two figures sink under the water, and not long after that, blood began to cloud the water. Lucas licked his lips unconsciously. Gods, he was hungry.
He moved a bit closer to the tank, catching the other man's eyes. There was a thump of a body hitting the deck, and then that eternal question. "Always," he answered, climbing the steps to the observation deck. His teeth and nails lengthened as he caught the scent of blood. He cut into her thigh before he could stop himself, not that he tried very hard. Blood dripped down his fingers and chin as the first morsel went into his mouth, and he let out an appreciative groan. The fresh kills were the best. "'M Lucas," he said, once he swallowed. "Figured I should introduce myself, since you caught dinner."