Snippet #2645325

"Yes. Continue to talk about me like I'm not here," Toby said under his breath with a weak, wry smile. Not that he wasn't used to it. Spire had a way of commanding conversations. Oren's talk of a newly turned vampire kept him on edge--partially because the number of names bring thrown around continued to indicate a larger and larger organization, but mostly because he knew a new vampire's instinct to feed was difficult to curb.


"Or maybe my own brother would know me too well to fall for my particular style of persuasive reasoning," Spire said to Issac, making a sound somewhere between a scoff and a laugh. He had plenty of personality flaws, oh, plenty, but a temper had never been among them. Quite the opposite of exploding with hot anger, Spire tended to get frosty when someone picked at the wrong sore. Or he would just slice their throats, if the situation allowed. But that wasn't really an option right now.

The implication that he would intentionally keep Toby in danger because it suited his purposes, or furthermore that he might try to manipulate him, were the wrong sores. Issac was quickly sliding down the scale from neutral to dislike.

Conversely, Spire's growing dislike didn't show on his face for long. "Or maybe we're both adrenalin junkies and we just share a mutual disregard for Murphy's law. We'll pass on the black bag, if that's alright," he said cheerfully, not buying that they had a tail for half a second. He paid a backward glance at Oren. "Sounds like you have bigger problems to deal with than making this a proper kidnapping."