"Cal?" Robin asked when he opened his door. "Everything alright?"
"Yeah," I said numbly. I kept emotion off my face, all emotion. "Just dropped by to tell you Promise has a job for us."
" 'Us'?" he raised an eyebrow. "What is it about my current profession that you ignorant parasites do not understand?"
I could've said something sarcastic and stupid that being a used car salesman doesn't count … but I decided to get right to the heart of the matter. "You get a cut."
That lightened the tone. "Come in, come in, Caliban," he said briskly, rubbing his hands together. "I think I still have some wine in the place …"
"Like you ever don't," I shot after him as I meandered into his apartment. I entered his living room and collapsed on the couch, put my hands over my face, and breathed. This was normal. I could still be normal. I was still Cal. I already had a long list of sins. I wasn't going anywhere special when my time came, that I knew.
I just had to fight this. I had to get a grip.
Caliban?
It was mockingly lyrical, a cheerful reminder. And holy shit, it was right there, in the back of my mind, and growing stronger. The urge. The bloodlust. The Auphe. "I can hold this down," I whimpered, my hands convulsing on my knees, my teeth grinding together. "I am not Caliban." But the thing was – I used to be so sure of it, and now I didn't even really know.
I could hear Robin's voice wafting out from the next room – "I won't accept any price you have to offer that has consists of less than 3 zeroes. And I don't have a very long time to hear details, as I have a … 'previous engagement' –"
My nails sank into my knees. I could not hold on.
Robin's voice drowned out, and I thought "Oh, no…" and the whole world went away.