The Jackal opens the door and coaxes his companion in the a jerk of the head. "It would be better with vodka," he says softly; he wants to drag in his pray, wants to give him a false sense of security. This whole game has been leading up to this point and Ginovaef has played his cards well. Too well maybe.
Silver brows arch and Nicholai's chuckling to himself. "This is all to myself? How very kind, whore." He waves and angles himself around one of the bed posts, his back to HUNK. It is here that the shadows hide the wickedness of a grin and the blood lust in the Jackal's eyes. His tooth is lodged in his lower lip and he can feel copper bubbling past it.