A snarky response dies on Peter's lips. Her words bring him back to the night his parents were murdered, the vampire that had hunted them through their own home. The nightmares that woke him, gasping for air, as the demon came back for him.
"Vampires don't have souls!" he snarls, knuckles white around his drink. "They are ravenous, insatiable monsters. The closest thing they have to emotion is sadistic delight. There is nothing human left in them."
He pictures his parents hunting the streets of London. Nothing left of the people they had been; just monsters hiding in the brutalized shells of their bodies.
"BARKEEP!" He slams the glass down on the table, hard enough that it flies out of his sweaty palm and crashes onto the floor. Whatever. He pounds the table with his fist. "BARKEEP. GET ME ANOTHER DRINK."
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"Vampires don't have souls!" he snarls, knuckles white around his drink. "They are ravenous, insatiable monsters. The closest thing they have to emotion is sadistic delight. There is nothing human left in them."
He pictures his parents hunting the streets of London. Nothing left of the people they had been; just monsters hiding in the brutalized shells of their bodies.
"BARKEEP!" He slams the glass down on the table, hard enough that it flies out of his sweaty palm and crashes onto the floor. Whatever. He pounds the table with his fist. "BARKEEP. GET ME ANOTHER DRINK."