but there wasn’t much point in turning tail and fleeing the scene ——— not for her, anyway, and not so long as he was the demon nipping at her heels. wherever she went, he would follow, and wherever she hid, he would find her. JUST AS HE HAD ALL THE TIMES BEFORE: when they’d been in “business” together, and she’d brought him the colt; when her time was up, and he’d arrived to collect. bela talbot was nothing if not sharp — if not terribly crafty. but no one swindled the salesman; not even the queen of thieves herself.

              to her retort, he cannot help but to respond with an amused scoff —– and he cranes his neck to try and catch a glimpse of whatever gold-mine she’d gotten her hands on now. ( how disappointed he’d be upon discovering it was only a planchette. child’s play. )    “ anyone ever tell you that time tends to drag when you dread every second of it? and, last i checked, an eternity of damnation was long enough on its own.          besides —– you could be worse-off. company-wise, i mean. after all, you and i —– we have HISTORY. doesn’t that count for anything?  “  

                             ^{❝   to  be  quite  frank,  i’d  be  more  interested  in  the  company  of  a  hellhound  than  the  company  of  you.    ❞    and she’s been between their teeth,  a more comfortable position that the one she’s in now.  life is obsolete these days,  she’s barely breathing.  history,  he acts as if they frolicked through daisies together,  no,  he sent her to hell.  the fact remains,  there is nothing in this for her.  she tightens the buckle on her bag,  not like it would put up any defense against a demon.  head tilting down as if she isn’t focused on what he has to say,  eyelids heavy with a certain indifference.    ❝    shall  we  be  off  then.   ❞     she’s leaving but he’ll follow her anyway.}