If it were not for the fact she really didn’t want to die and needed the money she would have said or done something else to that overinflated vampiress but she held her tongue as the flakes of peppermint slid down the red number. They itched and irritated her skin but she ignored them as best she could. Clenching her jaw tight she bit back a comment or two. Her eyes found his when is grip loosened giving him a small ‘couldn’t help it’ look to his arched brow. She did understand and would watch it as best she could. Somehow she figured if she got into trouble he would get into trouble and she didn’t want to tick him off.<br/><br/>Brown pools looked back at the woman her comment and Raven’s response to it catching Robin’s attention. They had a history that was certain.  From his reaction it wasn’t a very good one. The only thing she could figure from it was, he must have been like her once, sort of. Pulling back she felt eyes on her again her own meeting the stone face broken by a smile. Guinevere could wait? The thought didn’t bode well with her and she shifted a little in his lap, moving her just a little closer to him. It was probably more so because of the look that woman was giving her and the smile on her face than actually wanting to be nearer to him.<br/><br/>This small encounter with Guinevere was teaching her a lot and most of what she was learning she did not like. It was also teaching her of a hierarchy and Raven himself. So it seemed something like this has been happening for many years. The only difference; it seemed they were kept a lot longer and were not bound by contracts. The Old did not want to change but the New did. It was a power struggle and now she seemed to be caught in the middle of it. Her body felt the slight shift in Raven’s and her eyes caught sight of the same gun she’d heard cocked at Grendal.<br/><br/>Remaining perfectly still she listened intently to the back and forth between the two vampires. Her own body was stiff with tension, her heart beating faster than she cared for the more they spoke. Slender fingers clenched to fists wrinkling the fabric at her knees while the pieces of gun fell to the floor. Guinevere seemed to have won this round, she was curious to know if Raven ever won a round with her or if they even did this that often. She made a mental note to keep near him as much as she could. She would be far more obedient than what Guinevere thought she would be, even if she didn’t like it.<br/><br/>Robin faced the calm, cold vampiress not quite sure what to make of her request at first when it suddenly clicked. She tensed, mind reaching a million miles a minute. Images of that stupid contract flew in the moment the thought of refusing her kicked in but it still have her pause. She was contracted to Raven not Guinevere. As long as he refused she could deny it, or say she was saving the first bite for him. Feeling a little more confident she was going to refuse when he spoke up first.<br/><br/>He’d given up. All that brave talk earlier and now he gives in? Was it because she had broken his gun? Did that mean he was no good without it? She highly doubted it but she wasn’t exactly thinking clearly. Body stiff and agitated, shivering slightly in frustration she did as she was told. Fingers unclenched from her red fabric and lifted toward the vampires. Her contract never stated she could not have words with him, just that she could not refuse him, and she was going to have words later. If she could remember.