Chapter 2

"Friends may come and go, but enemies accumulate."

-Thomas Jones (1892 - 1969)

Three days passed. I could see his point after doing the math. When we flitted across Willowwich that night, the trip had taken about thirty minutes. On foot, it would have taken two or three hours. Roughly, that meant flitting was about six times faster than walking. Considering this, if the witch's house was eleven days away flitting, then we were looking at possibly two months on foot.

Luckily, this wasn't necessary. The fact that he could seal cuts with his saliva and closed the bullet hole in my arm proved one piece of vampiric dogma: they were capable of speedy healing. Therefore, I surmised a week of normal walking should be more than enough time for him to recover. The vampire already appeared better, but the risk wasn't worth it. Five days of rest would be the best precaution. When he fully recovered, as loathsome as it was, then flitting would be in order again.

This would be a reprieve. Even if it took slightly longer and I ended up walking all night it was better not to be nauseous or road kill.

The only thing I despised was how much time it opened up for conversation.

"Is that your technique?"

I ignored him. Instead of a river, we'd arrived at an elongated pond that had a healthy cricket population. It took a while to get use to the sound. The bugs and vegetation here were different from home. Some trees were recognizable, but others were completely new. There were times I could almost believe I woke up in a parallel dimension.

Standing stock still again, I wriggled my fingers slightly in the water. Waited. The moon was full, so I could just make out the sediment below and possibly the shadow of a cod beneath a nearby lily pad. Concentrated on being still to make my fingers more enticing-

Water sloshed upstream.

Crepsley wandered in, pants rolled up, exposing ghost white calves. I stopped dumbfounded. It was only for a second.

"Knock if off you're scaring them." I growled.

"Apologizes."

He copied my stance about five feet upwind. Now I pointedly ignored him. Needed to keep my arm completely still. After some time, the dark shadow drifted closer. Slowly fluttered my fingers. Come on. Come closer. The fish did. It was a large bass, over a foot long. I was careful not to get over excited. Couldn't help but drool a little bit when it drifted even closer. Carefully, gently, my fingers brushed the stomach of the creature. When it paused, confused, I snatched with both hands. Had to be about three pounds. Good size for lunch.

With a triumphant bark of laughter, I hefted my prize up to display it. Can't fish? Hah. Except, I never found his face. A large dark shape behind the dark red outline of him moved smoothly closer. My vocal chords seized.

"How-?"

A splash flew with the surge forward. Dropping the fish, my hand went for my knife. The water pulled at my feet, greatly slowing the rush. Already knew there wasn't even a remote chance of getting there in time. Four feet away when the black shape came, quick quick, faster than a blink-

Luckily, the vampire had cat-like reflexes.

Crepsley turned on a dime when it lunged. I blinked. Crepsley had whatever it was pinned, thrashing around in the water. The commotion and loud coughing silenced the peeping bugs. I waded another two steps forward when Crepsley said,

"I can still hear you coming from a mile away. Never mind smell you from two. Gods Gavner, can you at least learn to bathe properly?"

Out of the water, a voice spat back,

"Shut up! I've been flitting for three nights straight! Let go or I'll rip your arm off!"

Human sounding voice, but it had moved so fast! Had to be another vampire. Weren't vampires normally solitary? I expected blood and violence. Instinct screamed to run. Instead, I defied logic and kept still.

Crepsley smiled at his attacker and relinquished his grip.

Splashing and sloshing up from out of the water, a figure stood up. It was shorter, burlier in the chest and arms, with wet jeans and shirt clinging to its frame. This combined with the dark shortly cropped hair confirmed my suspicions that the aggressor was male. Stood by, fingers lightly touching the tilt of my blade. Yet, Crepsley appeared calm enough.

Then again, I was starting to suspect that he always composed no matter what the situation.

"That was a terrible thing to do. You ruined lunch and scared my assistant half to death."

The stranger turned around, finally exposing his face. Immediately a choppy fascination bloomed. He had more scars than Crepsley! There was nothing as impressionable or unique as the Nile River scar, but it was still a new weather beaten face to dissect. Longed for my sketchbook. Then, I realized those dark rimmed eyes inspected me just as intently.

"This is your assistant?" the stranger asked.

"Gavner-"

"Larten, I didn't know you were still such a wom-!"

In a red blur, Crepsley shoved him back into the water. The stranger came back up sputtering and cussing.

I regarded the two very, very warily. Despite its unpredictability, there seemed to be a familiar concept in this kind of behavior. I remember reading about this sort of thing in books about brothers. Also, while Stephanie didn't have a brother, she did have a cousin named Blake that came to visit every once in a while. Two years younger and having no other male cousins, Blake found Steph to be the only suitable replacement because she was such a tomboy. So, whenever he had come to visit, he pretty much followed us everywhere. As a result, she had treated him in a very similar fashion: tripping him and punching him whenever she got the chance.

Perhaps this like that: a sign of affection.

The stranger-Gavner? - snarled something foul and retaliated by grabbing Crepsley's ankle. The second vampire tired to pull the first off balance. The red-haired one was ready for this, however. He dodged the grab and promptly shoved Gavner's head back into the water.

Then again, it never hurt to be careful.

Crepsley helped/dragged his associate up to the bank for a bit of private banter. He told me to keep fishing, but I was distracted. I thought vampires were solitary. Yet, they were clearly having some kind of conversation. What did vampires-I was assuming this man was one-talk about, anyway? Couldn't hear many discernable words, the cricket song swelled once the fight ended and became too loud.

However, occasionally the wind blew just right and I heard words like 'flitting', 'generals', and 'hunters'. Once, I thought I heard 'princes', but that sounded completely ridiculous. It would have been more enlightening with visible expressions, but Crepsley's back was blocking the other vampire completely from sight. I kept glancing, but he never moved. Nor did I risk moving. Again, curiosity, if noticed, could be used against me.

So I pretended not to care and forced myself to wait for a smaller whitefish to come at its own peril before walking back. By then, both of them had started a fire and were sitting on a few fallen logs they'd dragged over.

"Miss Smalls, this is Gavner Purl." Crepsley said, gesturing to the pockmarked face adjacent to him. Currently bare-chested, it was easy to see the scars were not limited to his face. He'd taken his shirt off and hung it up to dry on a nearby branch. He'd also taken his boots and socks off. He had only three toes on his left foot.

Interesting. That, along with the scars, laid the regeneration myth to rest.

"He is an incompetent, clumsy, but close friend of mine. Gavner, this is Miss Smalls, my endlessly stupid, stubborn, selfish, and very human assistant."

Gavner Purl sat up straighter, suddenly alarmed.

"By the blood of the Vampaneze! She's human? Her hands-!"

"Yes. Tell them I made no attempt to fool you. I will provide further details later on. For now-" The red-haired vampire gestured.

Purl made an effort to be civil.

"The pleasure is mine." He replied, holding out his hand with a half smile. His fingernails were equally sharp and long, but his hands were more calloused than Crepsley's. Also interesting. I thought about not shaking to show contempt. Then again, if I didn't, both vampires would probably get upset. Survival instinct dictated that that was a very bad idea that could ultimately result in some serious pain.

For now, until I had a better idea how to deal with these creatures, it would be better to be politic.

I shook. His grip was warm and firm. Nor did he break any of my fingers.

"Like wise…are you sure you don't want a towel?" I nodded to his pants. They were still soaking wet. Playing hostess was a role that seemed best.

"You want to see me naked that badly huh?" He retorted, grinning.

I started at him. Wasn't sure how to respond to that. Part of me wanted to snort back 'it wouldn't be anything I haven't seen before'. I took a figure drawing class, so I'm familiar with male anatomy. I didn't know, however, if it would be prudent to share this information or not.

Crepsley solved the problem by giving his friend a very nasty glare.

"Gavner, if you don't behave yourself I will throw you back into the pond."

That was definitely a threat. Not a teasing one either. Yet, the brown haired vampire had the luxury of shrugging it off.

"Never mind him. With my striking good looks and charm, he's just afraid I'm going to steal you away."

I didn't reply. 'Stole' sunk in like a blade. Crepsley, once I'd shown weakness, had pretty much stolen my life. He just had the forethought to give me enough rope to hang myself before offering a lesser evil. The thought of it happening for a second time was just...

My hand twitched towards the hilt of my blade.

Yet, stabbing a vampire could be a lethal move.

Instead, I drew the blade-slowly- and started prepping the fish. Actions speak louder than words. Stabbed into the brain with one shift motion to make sure it was dead. Then, one clean cut was made along the gill line. Blood poured onto the ground.

Wolf's bloody torso flashed vivid.

I ignored it. Extracting the meat used to be my favorite part of fishing, before so many people died. Tried not to relive the sight of the upside down corpse either as I filleted and deboned the animal. Avoided looking at the heart, stomach, or lifeless eyes. Cut the scales off in a few brutal movements. Needed a pan.

Looked up, Purl was struggling to hold in laughter.

"Something funny, Mr. Purl?" I asked, sweetly. Rested my arm on one knee, dangling the bloody knife in my right hand. Bared my teeth in a vicious smile. It was the same smile I used on Steph's father.

Instead of being intimidated, however, Gavner simply raised his eyebrows and looked at Crepsley, smiling.

"She's feisty."

"Yes, Miss Smalls is not as mild mannered as she appears." Crepsley replied airily. He was regarding the dismemberment with a fierce frown, like a teacher that had just failed an exam.

That wasn't the expected or desired reaction. Should have expected it though. They were predators: it was like a rabbit baring its chubby teeth at a wolf. I started hacking up the last of the vegetables we had in an effort not to appear dubious.

"What brings you to this neck of the woods? I thought the Cirque traveled through the Midwest during this time of year."

"A business arrangement." Crepsley replied, but didn't go into specifics. Purl wrinkled his brow puzzled. I recognized this. This was a famous Cryptic Crepsley moment. I looked from one to the other. Anger makes you do stupid things. I decided to take a risk.

"He's taking me to see a witch."

Purl shot a wild look,

"Charna's guts! Does Lady Evanna-?"

Crepsley simply glared and the other vampire promptly closed his mouth. Not that it mattered. My heart was beating too fast. I forgot to be afraid of Crepsley. He was agitated about the name slip. I'd asked about the witch before, but the vampire had refused to tell me anything.

Truth was, I didn't give a damn about names. Not then.

"Did you just say 'Charna's guts'?"

Purl opened his mouth, but was cut off.

"Yes, it is a common phrase in this region." Crepsley said, like it was common knowledge. Then he grinned,

"You did not know this?"

'Charna's guts' had been Tally's swear. It was one of the few things he had bequeathed after his death. Instead of getting family stories and being taken to ballet or softball like the other kids, he had told myths, legends, turns of phrase, and taught me how to fish and hunt. While other girls memorized Nsync or the Back Street Boys, I sang old Beowulf like ballads from God knows when.

At first, I assumed they were French due to his name. Later, I found that wasn't the case. When I was older, I found his stories were untraceable. Yet, suddenly, he we were, God knows were and they said Charna's guts. Knowing the geographical location would have been like getting a piece of my uncle back.

I couldn't ask. Blatant curiosity was weakness. So, I shrugged like it wasn't a big deal,

"It startled me. I just haven't heard anyone use it in a long time, that's all." Had to change the subject. I turned to Purl. He looked as mystified as I felt.

"So what is Lady Evanna like…?"

"Do not tell her anything." Crepsley snorted, "Miss Smalls gets herself into trouble when she has too much information."

"Says the vampire that conveniently leaves out the half vampire stipulation in our bargain. Honestly, when dealing with you, I need all the information I can get."

Purl looked sharply at Crepsley, "You tried to trick her?"

Crepsley smiled. Cupped his jaw and stroked the scar. The tick signified something, but couldn't ascertain what. It was a something he did frequently, possibly a break in his poker face. I knew that, but it didn't help me figure out what was in his hand, so to speak.

"Does it matter? It did not work. One can not be punished for a crime they have not committed."

"And then there's attempted murder..." Purl muttered.

"That is a human crime."

Purl stared at his friend pointedly.

"Then I suppose vampires are a law onto themselves?" I snorted. This was ridiculous. Crepsley said becoming a vampire meant having no family, no friends. How could laws factor in with such a solitary-

"Actually yes," Crepsley replied, "We have Vampire Generals who keep and enforce our laws. Gavner happens to be one of them."

I looked at the dark haired vampire surprised. Vampire cops? Talk about a double negative. Yet the idea was amusing until a thought occurred. If this were true, then there had to be hierarchy and structure to such a system. If vampires were capable of policing themselves, then there had to be a vampire community that was not only conscious of itself, but was able to organize and regulate itself.

Suddenly, the idea of nomadic predators vanished. Instead the notion shifted and more towards an Anne Rice type of political set up.

That was scary.

"Are you sure it's wise to tell her that?" Gavner asked.

"Miss Smalls is my assistant. She will be bound to find out sooner or later. It will be more convenient if it is sooner." Crepsley replied.

Which meant absolutely nothing. All information is up to interpretation. He'd just rather be the one in charge of dispensing whatever that so-called 'information' happened to be. The fact was Crepsley could never be trusted.

Purl traveled with us for the next two days.

When dawn came, Crepsley and he retreated into the darkness of a massive rotting oak tree. This retreat from the sun confirmed, without a doubt, that he was a vampire. The speed he had used when lunging for Crepsley should have been all the evidence required, but again, it was hard to lump him into the blood thirsting category. It was something about the way he sulked, squabbled, and gaffed. The heavy breathing was a bit Shadow of the Vampire, but even that was only slight. The commonplace normalcy only intensified when the two teased each other mercilessly…

They weren't exactly inhuman and that was terrible. Why was that? Then Purl started biting his nails at about three in the morning and the familiarity of it all reared its ugly head.

Time crawled.

I never bothered to watch Madam Octa eat before.

I'd taken biology. I knew the mechanics to how spiders feed. Orb weavers use their venom to paralyze their victims before wrapping them up and feasting upon them. Tarantellas were a fuzzier topic, but Madam Octa had already displayed the effects of her bite. No, the worrying part was the fact that their prey was still alive when they liquefied them. In human terms, it would be like getting thrown into an acid bath. Getting killed by a lion seemed much more preferable.

I dropped a shiny blue beetle in. Before I could avert my eyes, however, I saw her plump body dart forward. The movement was fluid and yet precise. Like a tiger, she pounced on the insect and plunged her fangs into its tough exoskeleton as if it were tissue paper. The beetle didn't stand a chance. When it stopped twitching, her maniples expertly shredded the carcass into small pieces, which she devoured with relish. She ate the whole thing.

That was unexpected…but fascinating. More humane at least.

The world seemed to have turned inside out.

I dropped two grasshoppers in at the same time. She performed the novelty again, making sure to rip its wings off both so that neither could escape. Agile and intelligent, absolutely none of her movements were wasted. Her skill was certainly impressive. My collection of insects was spent before my curiosity was satisfied. I made an extra trip just to watch her hunt for a fifth and sixth time.

She was like a little eight-legged colorful panther. I couldn't believe-

"Miss Smalls?" A familiar voice called.

I quickly slammed the door of the cage shut and started scratching frantically in the dirt. I had started conserving paper; this kind of action wouldn't elicit question. When Crepsley appeared, it looked like I couldn't have cared less about his little eight-legged terror.

"Why aren't you flitting?" Purl asked on the third evening, his face half exposed in a fiery glow.

The forest had thickened so greatly that there was pitch-black darkness above and around us, apart from the torch Crepsley carried. Moths danced around it, ivory white like huge snowflakes. That was something else startling: vampires couldn't see in complete darkness. Their eyesight was perfect in low light. Maneuvering between the trees, it felt more cave like than open ground. It reminded me of Mirkwood from out of The Hobbit, apart from the occasional bat that would occasionally dart out of the gloom.

"It'll take forever to get to Lady Evanna's on foot."

There was a pause.

"Flitting makes me nauseous." I muttered, breaking six hours of pure muted silence. I feared what Crepsley would have replied. On the other hand, my body was already subpar compared to the power both creatures posed, so admitting that kind of weakness was the lesser of two evils.

"Me too." Purl replied unexpectedly.

I twisted around. Purl missed the look. He was too busy throwing his hand up into the air. Expertly, his fingers snatched one of those black sporadic bodies as it whirled past. He snapped the creature's neck before he said,

"I only flit when I have to. It's something about the vibrating that doesn't agree-"

"SHUT UP!"

The vampire stopped, startled. Let the bat go by accident, but by then it was too late. Not that I was worried about it. I was shaking. Twisted back around, trying to burn the sight of Purl catching the damn thing out of my head, Crepsley slid into view as an unwelcome replacement. He had stopped a dozen paces ahead with an openly puzzled expression.

"What is the matter?"

I didn't say anything. Refused to. He challenged it with a long look, but still I didn't talk. Expected a fight. Instead, the red devil turned around and started forward again.

None of us spoke for the rest of the night.

That was the morning I started dreaming about frogs. Thousands of them, all different colors and sizes. They spanned across the water and lead into a deep hallow place that looked like the inside of an intestinal track. Ribbits echoed like chiming bells along the huge curving walls. The voice of a dead man whispered.

There's nothing to be afraid of.

Then turning a corner, Wolf appeared. At the center, he stood with the gun already drawn and ready. He smiled, bearing his teeth in a snarl.

I haven't got all night bitch.

The shot was lethal. It tore through my throat and left an arch of spatter on the walls. I died. I always died.

Overslept. Panic continued. Hadn't prepared dinner. Hadn't fed the spider. Crepsley was going to have my head on a stick. Had to think of something quick-

Brain skittered to a stop. Where there was usually silence, there were voices.

"-taking her to Evanna? Are you completely out of your mind?" Purl whispered.

"I had no other choice."

"Gods! She could be one of them! We've already lost fourteen within the last six months. Fourteen! Three in just this month! There's talk that the Princes are going to call Council early if things don't change. How do you know she isn't a spy?"

"Do you take me for a fool?" Crepsley asked, softly.

"No, of course not, but you should have blooded her or left her. If you felt so compelled, you should have at least lied and made up something, anything, made up some fake cure to convince-!"

"Shh."

Quiet descended. I thought about trying not to breathe in hopes the discussion would continue. Then I realized this was stupid. They could probably tell if someone is asleep just from their heartbeat, never mind by the sound of their breathing.

Normally, this would not have been worth pursuing right away. Considering the fact the vampire had attempted to trick me, not fully diverging information had been expected. Even planning to change me behind my back was also expected. So expected that for the past fifteen days, I'd been straining, looking for the loophole he was going to exploit when we got there. This kind of instance should have been noted and examined at length because confrontation would only result in lies.

That's what logic argued.

It was powerless against black fury.

"A fake cure would not have worked." I said, managing to sound calm.

Sat up out of the long grass in my small clearing. Sunlight was warm on my shoulders and heavy like battle armor. A few ladybugs were crawling lazily down my arms and chest. The two of them were huddled in the generous shade several yews provided, squinting out. Felt strong, superior, but above all livid.

"People would have continued to die arbitrarily. I'd have figured it out. For making me waste innocent lives, I also would have sought recompense. Who are 'they'?" I asked.

They said nothing. Of course they said nothing.

The monster inside bared its teeth,

"Who ever it is, I'm not their spy. Nor do I care to get any further involved with your kind. But until this curse comes off, I'll fulfill my end of the bargain no matter how dangerous it gets because I agreed to.However, what I don't appreciate is being completely uninformed about what type of danger to expect." I hissed.

Crepsley was quiet for a moment. Then, just as calmly, he asked,

"Why should I share anything with you if you refuse to do the same?"

I stared at the bastard. Why couldn't he just leave me alone? Why-?

"Share? Fine. I found my uncle nailed to the wall, gutted, with his eyes cut out when I was thirteen. His stomach had been completely removed, and his intestines had been left hanging, sprawled out on the floor next to a puddle of dried vomit. His heart, brain, and tongue were missing. They were never recovered. The police said he'd been there for some time, judging by the fact that flies had laid eggs in his eye sockets. They also assured me they'd catch those responsible, but that never happened. I still have nightmares about finding him.

"Is that what you want me to share?"

Quiet. Cryptic Crepsley was keeping his face blank, damn him. This was a statement that needed a response. This needed to be made perfectly clear. I turned to Purl who, for some reason, suddenly appeared more vulnerable. Needed a verbal withdrawal, some kind of confirmation that they would drop the damn subject. That they would stop acting like humans, stop trying to be friendly and intrusive-

"Does that sound like a pleasant thing to share, Mr. Purl?"

"No."

His tone killed the rage. His voice sounded not reluctant but sad. Soft, sad, and so damnably human. It should have sent me over the edge. Instead, there was just weariness. This was not a battle that could be won.

"Madam Octa hasn't eaten. I'll go collect insects for her."

It was one of the few times that complete isolation had been a soothing balm instead of a curse. Couldn't see the moon, so I couldn't tell the time. Instead relied on the thickening blackness that collected in what was now dubbed Mirkwood forest to ascertain that dusk had plunged into evening. The orange yellow glow that crept along the ground was expected.

I turned around with a fist full of night crawlers and found a figure behind me. Expected a furious Crepsley.

Instead, Purl stood there with a torch.

"You don't like vampires, do you?" He asked. It was a quiet question.

"No. I hate them."

It probably wasn't the best choice of words, especially if fourteen vampires had actually died fairly recently. Worse if it was the work vampire hunters. That's the only thing I could think of to explain it. I didn't care. I wanted an enemy to fight. I wanted to fight a monster and be justified for it.

Instead, he just stood there, as if demanding some kind of explanation. Or confession. Something-

"If I tell you why, will you leave me alone?"

"Maybe. It depends on the answer."

Considered that. Maybe it was the honesty of that statement. Or maybe it was because Purl hadn't actively tried to trick me as far as I was aware. If anything, Creplsey's original description of his 'friend' had seemed pretty accurate. He was rather clumsy and whole heavy breathing thing…

When I tried to think of a way to explain it, a huge blank spot filled my brain at first. Panic almost came, but then my voice came softly,

"I had a friend that adored vampires. She got sucked into the whole fantasy. I didn't, but that was fine. Vampires didn't exist, so that was fine. There was no reason to object. The thrill was harmless. I memorized all the so-called rules, read the books, watched all the movies because it was her hobby and I liked spending time with her. However, I always knew the truth."

"And what truth would that be?" He asked, voice low. Excellent. I pointed at him, worms writhing around my fingers.

"You're just parasites. You feast on human blood and steal just to sustain yourself. Why shouldn't I loath overgrown mosquitoes?"

"Because these so called mosquitoes choose not to kill your kind." Purl replied in a snarl. His face had darkened. There. Fighting spirit. I wanted to draw my blade and challenge him to combat. It was suicide, but I still wanted it. I wanted to inflict pain and suffering.

Inside me exists a monster.

"We don't kill to feed. We're far stronger, faster, and older; we could slaughter thousands of you. We could enslave all your kind and completely drain anyone we wanted. It would be easy."

Purl shook his head,

"Yet we don't. We choose not to. We have morals. We only take the blood we need to survive. That's all. We don't kill. We believe vampires who kill humans are evil."

Lies. Utter bullshit. I didn't bother to mask it. Yet, the frustration looked genuine when he ground his teeth.

"Charna's guts, what does Larten see in you?" He hissed.

That was the best question he ever asked. I grinned, baring my teeth in a savage smile again,

"Beats me, but feel free to change his mind."

"I already tried. He's stubborn about helping you. Gods know why-"

It was easy to pounce on that rosy sentiment and rip it to pieces.

"Helping me? He tried to trick me into becoming his slave for the rest of my life! He's bringing me to the witch in an attempt to cure me as step one in his continued plan to turn me in one of you blood-sucking monsters! How is that helping-?"

Purl exploded.

"Larten Crepsley would never do that! He is one of the most honorable vampires ever blooded! He puts great thought into everything he does! He would not EVER prey on a person like that, not unless it served some greater purpose!"

He stopped. One of Steph's black stares flashed and the memory came like a wave: one of her arms wrapped around my shoulders-

Say another thing about my friend, Sandra, and I'll punch your face in.

Those words had held such fierce power…

This is Gavner Purl, an incompetent, clumsy, but close friend.

For a second, I couldn't talk. Then the marred tan face reappeared staring out of the flickering darkness. It was still the visage of a blood-sucking creature. A monster. A monster far worse than my monster.

Quietly, I asked,

"If you know him so well, then tell me: what is his so called 'greater purpose' then?"

The vampire said nothing at first. He did something extremely confusing by simply smiling. It was an openly frustrated and painful grin,

"That is something you'll have to ask him yourself."

Before I could find a retort for that, the vampire vanished in a flit. The light went out and allowed the darkness to roll in. It swallowed everything.

Crepsley was sitting in front of campfire. He must have heard me coming, but he didn't turn around. I moved carefully, taking even paces like a panther might. Tried for the casual step. There was the smell of stew. That was expected because the vampire practically lived on it, besides human and animal blood. Honestly, he must be over a hundred years old: couldn't he have learned to cook anything else?

I continued to stand behind him, in his shadow, willing him to say something or turn around. He did not. So-

"I chased your friend away." I said. It was daring.

"I had thought you would." Crepsley replied. He sounded unconcerned. The fire crackled when a wood knot exploded sharply. At once, my heartbeat quickened. It had to be now. I'd spent the last sixty minutes digesting and brooding on what Purl had told me. The plan was as good as it was going to get. I had to do this quickly before I chickened out.

Inhaled. Tried to stay calm…

"I'm-I'm ready to make another bargain with you."