"As long as we're clear, then." No edge, he actually sounds pleasant, but the smile is forced. A well-practiced dance. A vampire is a vampire, it's only a matter of time before this one acts up and he has to take him out back like an old dog and put him out of his misery. Find him a happy vampire and he'll find a grateful werewolf.

"You don't know anything about her." There is a hint of venom there but, when he speaks up next, the edge has disappeared. He feels it on the tip of his tongue, the urge to ask him if he means he tended to her care or dispatched her like any blood thirsty vampire would. Instead, he weighs his options, decides to drop it, and turns to face him.

"I met her after she had already contracted it, the decline was steady." He watches him like he fully expects to be attacked then, surprisingly, adds on: "I'm sorry."