Bad blood

Levent Kartal · 04-17-2012, 08:53 AM

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Had he been able to read minds, Thanatos might have been a lot angrier. His fitful reaction to the playful anecdote had the merchant convinced he was the fool he feared being called. Such displays of anger and open threats were ridiculous to one who was used to playing others with honeyed words and rather than a hand at a sword hilt and an evil scowl. Certainly, one could only be insulted so much—but the wise man did not hurl lightning bolts at whoever looked at him cross-eyed. The wise man waited, and tolerated, and sent one lightning bolt right where it was needed.

The remark about an early death made Levent glance at him sideways, quirking a brow. He kept his response to himself, however. He had no doubt the dark wolf had murdered plenty of wolves—likely ones that made fun of his nose or his mother or something, because you don’t mock Death—but he wasn’t particularly frightened. As terrified as he was of meeting his mortal doom, he gambled hard and often—and if Thanatos wanted to kill him, he would have done it before either of them knew what was happening.

Maybe I can chain him up in a cave, he thought, and smiled in the direction of the trees as if suddenly enraptured by their beauty.

The question made him blink, forgetting himself, but the tomcat flattened his ears and lashed his tail. His earlier flamboyant smiles vanished as he looked at the other man quite seriously, although his tone was soft and casual, not having to think about the answer. “Of course. Wilson is my traveling companion and closest friend. We have known each other since we were kids.”

The pair was used to skeptical glares from other luperci. Many had companions of their own, even if they were mere pets rather than equals of different species. Others would rather eat a cat than talk to it, or thought that torturing them was fun. He still didn’t want to think about what the teenagers in London would have done to the feline if he hadn’t stopped them. They’d given some very detailed suggestions, but much was likely left unsaid. Troubled, he stroked the tom’s fur.

“Ah, apologies,” the brown wolf said swiftly. “I wasn’t thinking.” That admission might make Thanatos happy. He gave a little bow of his head. “I am Levent—which has no meaning other than a very vain one, but I swear my mother named me.”

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