Daniel doesn't end up fucking the kid. He fucks a woman in her 40s named Connie, whose dead husband was even older than Daniel; an ex-gold digger and true crazy person who's shown up to more than one book signing in more than one state, who Daniel doesn't mind. This is his hookup pool now, and frankly, he's just happy to have one. He hasn't quite figured out how to feed from mortals and not kill them, but he practices. (Not on hookups.)
He tries to put Armand out of his mind. Screwing around helps.
"Nice to see you again, Fake Rashid."
Anyway, hi. Surprise. Daniel hadn't tried to sneak up on him, but he happened to be taking a phone call in the staff room. Sunglasses on, tinted like they might be those fancy-for-poor-people transition lenses, though the gleam of something unearthly amber is hinted at behind them. Contacts are tacky.
"I remember you from Boston. Feel like helping me with something? I'm torn on a matter."
no subject
He tries to put Armand out of his mind. Screwing around helps.
"Nice to see you again, Fake Rashid."
Anyway, hi. Surprise. Daniel hadn't tried to sneak up on him, but he happened to be taking a phone call in the staff room. Sunglasses on, tinted like they might be those fancy-for-poor-people transition lenses, though the gleam of something unearthly amber is hinted at behind them. Contacts are tacky.
"I remember you from Boston. Feel like helping me with something? I'm torn on a matter."