She was still avoiding his gaze. Up, down, left, right - her eyes danced in every direction but his.
"You're a new turn, aren't you, Treasure?" he asked when he grew tired of the game of gaze tag.
"How could you tell?"
"You're afraid. Of me, of yourself, of just about everything. Once you realize what you're capable of, there will be little room for fear."
"I'm not afraid," she countered defiantly.
Normally he would have taken such an assertion as a challenge. But he found he didn't want to frighten this one. Instead, he found himself, for the first time in a long time, yearning to soothe. "You're pale. When was the last time you ate someone?"
She flinched at his word choice. So much for soothing. "You don't look well, Treasure. You need to feed."
"It hasn't been that long," she
