Draculaâ€¦ Kalabâ€™s expression was, for a moment, that of a parent humoring a child who wanted to be called by some foolish nickname. So many vampires wanted to be him, but it didnâ€™t matter much to Kalab if one, all, or none of them were telling the truth. What mattered was that this mage was annoying. It surprised him not at all that Nehmahati put him in his place.<br/><br/><span style="font-weight: bold">â€œDonâ€™t either of you try to follow me.â€ </span>As if he needed to try. Disregarding her demand, he disgustedly shook the card from his hand and walked after her. It spiraled onto the floor and lay there, discarded. With proper knowledge and planning, one did not need the assistance of strangers. Especially not of mages that wouldnâ€™t know subtle if it fell from the sky onto their heads. â€œGood riddance,â€ he said of the vampire mage when he was finally gone.<br/><br/>Perhaps when things got worse, she would more willingly come with him. But he wasnâ€™t just going to leave Nehmahati on her own. Maybe soon she wouldnâ€™t so much distrust him. Kalab hadnâ€™t given her reason to, and knew very well that even if she didnâ€™t know it and might not believe him yet, he loved her. And she loved him. She had to. Because he loved his dear heart in a way that no one else could. Not like the covetous want of men that couldnâ€™t have her, but in the way that only the twin to her soul could.