Davian did a double take at her, unable to help thinking about her with another girl, and it was a hot sight. "Okay, maybe you're not the innocent Sunday School girl I was thinking you were," he smirked.
"I wouldn't be so sure." He extended his arm, showing Emily the wrap that had been applied to his bite wound and hidden beneath his sleeve. "Your cat friend luckily didn't have rabies."
"You're rich?" Eyebrows lifting, impressed, Davian nodded. "Your secret's safe with me, baby girl." Giving a harsh laugh, Davian looked straight ahead, not meeting her gaze and shaking his head. She was a dreamer living in a fairy tale world. "Yeah, something like that."
He opened the door to the Dockyard for her, keeping her close so that his glamour would extend to her, blanketing them both in the illusion of much older people, people old enough to not be questioned when they approached the bar. It was a quick process, one Davian made pretty regularly, as he ordered them both a beer and used fake illusioned money that was only paper to pay for it, then slunk off to the corner where the dart boards were kept. He had the box of darts borrowed from the bar under one arm, and dug into his pocket for his pack of cigarettes.