Unconsciously, he runs his hand along his neck, right where he remembers Vasquez sinking in those impossibly sharp teeth.
He remembers it hurting plenty, which lends credence to the vampire's claim that he didn't trick Faraday into anything. Or maybe Vasquez was pissed off enough about the course of the night that he had decided to be a little petty.
Either way, it seems to satisfy Faraday's need for an answer, and he doesn't offer up any more resistance to that particular line of questioning.
He pauses as he brings the glass to his lips again, when Vasquez makes that distinction – he can count on one hand the number of people who are willing to see the difference between a man and his curse, and Faraday would still have fingers leftover. Most folks only see them as being one in the same – and admittedly, most nights, they'd be right. But on the bad nights, the ones that left a man a mere shadow of himself – those were the ones that made folks far less understanding of the difference.
Not that he blamed them. He's heard more than enough stories of werewolves on full moons to know why folks like him are so hated, why he needs to be so careful.
Still, he can't help the quick flash of sincere gratitude that crosses his face – though he rolls with Vasquez's attempt at levity.
Dryly, ]
Oh, believe me, amigo, I remember.
[ Or more specifically, he remembers the aftermath. ]
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Unconsciously, he runs his hand along his neck, right where he remembers Vasquez sinking in those impossibly sharp teeth.
He remembers it hurting plenty, which lends credence to the vampire's claim that he didn't trick Faraday into anything. Or maybe Vasquez was pissed off enough about the course of the night that he had decided to be a little petty.
Either way, it seems to satisfy Faraday's need for an answer, and he doesn't offer up any more resistance to that particular line of questioning.
He pauses as he brings the glass to his lips again, when Vasquez makes that distinction – he can count on one hand the number of people who are willing to see the difference between a man and his curse, and Faraday would still have fingers leftover. Most folks only see them as being one in the same – and admittedly, most nights, they'd be right. But on the bad nights, the ones that left a man a mere shadow of himself – those were the ones that made folks far less understanding of the difference.
Not that he blamed them. He's heard more than enough stories of werewolves on full moons to know why folks like him are so hated, why he needs to be so careful.
Still, he can't help the quick flash of sincere gratitude that crosses his face – though he rolls with Vasquez's attempt at levity.
Dryly, ]
Oh, believe me, amigo, I remember.
[ Or more specifically, he remembers the aftermath. ]
It hurt like hell.