"So I'm not what you expected," Serika said. She tossed back her drink. "Am I darker than you thought?"
"No," Nathaniel said. "Darker than I hoped."
"Naive."
"Yes." He nodded. "It's a failing of mine. Even though we continue to live down to the lowest expectations, I keep hoping for something more."
She laughed, a brittle sound as cold as the ice in her drink. "Oh, this is rich! Who would have thought the Sword and the Arm could be so ... childish?"
He gave a slight shrug. "Everyone has their faults. Even you."
"Not nice of you to notice," Serika said, her fangs extending. "I suppose you'll try to kill me now."
"No," he said.
She widened her eyes. "Surely not mercy for me."
"No, no mercy for one such as you who has mercilessly preyed upon mankind," he said. He turned away.
"I don't ..." She stopped and looked at the drink. "You ..." The glass fell from her hand and shattered on the floor. "Poison ... you ..."
He didn't look back as her skin blackened and burned. She died with a curse on her lips.
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