“I am insulted, Dimitri. Insulted. Then again, I’m hardly as showy as some people in this room. Not to name names, but they wear this hideous cowboy duster. Maybe you’ve seen them?”
“Michael Adams. I usually reside in England, but… the American dream. I have to live it, right? Well…almost, since I’m you know, dead.”
“Adams. I’ll remember that name.” His voice was passive, suiting his chalk-colored complexion perfectly. He had no intention of giving this man any pleasure of making him agitated or offended.
“Oh, saying it like it is is for the weak and feeble minded, Dimitri.”
“Consider me your neighbourhood’s friendly Strigoi. I merely came to introduce myself, let you know I’m around. We wouldn’t want you to foolishly assume I’m an enemy and start getting all bushy tailed. Hell, just to show my good will I’ll even throw in some tips for you to hold onto your power for longer.”
“I’m doing fine, but thank you for your concern. Although, I do feel like you have an advantage here; I don’t know your name.”
“Well, I was told you had no sense of humour, but this is ridiculous.”
“However, to answer your question, before you do the impossible and have an aneurysm, I’m merely here to visit. I’d say learn, but let’s be serious, I wrote the manual on how to be the big bad. Of course, with more class and better clothes.”
“Obviously, you’re here to visit and insult me. Just say it like it is.”
