Fear makes Caius’s blood freeze in his veins. 

“Hey,” the red-haired vampire says, red eyes glittering in the sharp shadow cast by his long bangs. “We meet again.”

“Unfortunately,” Faust mutters, and the vampire laughs.

“Keeping your wit in front of vampires.” He says. He loosens his grip on Caius’s neck - not completely, but enough that it’s not painful, an almost gentle press of fingertips against his jugular. “But that’s no way to greet an acquaintance. And we are acquaintances; we’ve met twice now.”

“None of my acquaintances are vamps,” Faust says, a tight expression pinching his features, his gun trained surely on both Caius and the vamp.

“Forget that,” Caius says, twisting in the vampire’s grip, conscious of the nail pressing against his throat. “Tell me where Clete is.”

The vampire makes an intrigued noise.

“How about a trade?” He offers, after a moment. He leans around to look at Caius directly. “I’ll answer one question, and you’ll do me a favor, little vampire hunter.”

“No,” Faust says, at the same time Caius says, “Yes.”

Faust looks at Caius, his eyes widening slightly. Caius holds the vampire’s gaze, only trembling slightly.

“You’re shaking like a leaf. I suppose our first meeting didn’t leave a great impression.” The vampire sighs. Caius feels his cold breath gust over the lobe of his cheek, freezing like ice and chillier than the ambient summer night air but still somehow alive. “My name is Sol. I’ve had other names before, but this one is my favorite.”

Before Faust can reply, Caius shifts slightly against Sol’s grip.

“Is Cletus alive?” He asks, feeling his throat move under Sol’s fingers, uncomfortably conscious of his vulnerable position. His body is too warm, radiating heat. “Is he safe?”

Sol takes his eyes off Faust to glance at him.

“You’re an odd one.” He says, tapping one finger against Caius’s throat. “Well, I knew that before, but this just confirms it - odd or foolish, I don’t know. The answer is yes, but you should be asking me about where he is.”

Caius’s expression pinches. He purses his lips for a moment.

“You didn’t answer my full question.” He says. “Is Cletus safe… with you?”

Safe for the time being, he’s asking. Safe in Sol’s captivity, both for now and in the future. Sol blinks and looks at Caius for a moment.

“Yes,” he says. “He will be safe with me. I have a purpose for these kidnapped children, and their pointless deaths is not a part of my plan.”

Caius opens his mouth again, but Sol grazes the edge of one nail against the line of his throat.

“And,” he continues, letting a smile slip back onto his face, “I am definitely the only one who knows where they are. I’m taking good care of them, but the only way those children will remain safe from harm is if I am alive to look after them.”

Faust’s eyes narrow to slits. In the yellow light from the flickering streetlamp they glow golden. Sol looks back at him.

“Your killing intent is certainly strong.” He comments, not letting go of Caius’s throat. “It’s radiating from you so strongly no predator or prey could miss it.”

Caius licks his lips.

“What do you want?” He says, breaking their odd stalemate. “You haven’t killed me. You must need something.”

Sol grins.

“It’s time for my favor,” he says, and he guides Caius by the hand on his neck and the presence of his form to step towards the bloodstain on the cobble, the crime scene that Caius had nearly forgotten about in the commotion. Sol pulls Caius into a crouching position by the dark splotches on the porous stone, fitting one arm comfortably around his shoulders, fingers still against his throat.

“Can you smell it?” He asks.

Caius inhales - he can’t smell anything but the damp stone and the street. He shakes his head.

Sol smiles. His bright white teeth glint in the night.

“Humans are so much lesser than vampires,” he says, a lilt of something that’s almost fondness threading through his voice.

“Are you the throat-ripper?” Caius asks, his brain spinning, trying to connect the dots.

Sol clicks his tongue at him.

“You’ve already used your question,” he says, magnanimous, “but I’ll give you a freebie, since it relates to my favor. No, I’m not what you humans are calling the throat-ripper. I’d like to think I have a bit more elegance than that level of brutality.”

“You tore open my stomach and left me for dead the last time we met,” Caius points out without thinking.

Sol scoffs.

“I suppose that’s true.” He mutters, grazing his fingers softly against the skin of Caius’s neck. “Though that’s only because I was stopped from putting you gracefully to rest. Don’t compare me to a barbarian, please.”

Caius frowns. Despite his fear, Sol has an engaging personality - one that draws in the people around him. Caius doesn’t know when his muscles had begun to relax in front of the person who had almost killed him in the not-so-distant past.

Sol leans further and sniffs at the bloodstain splattered across the ground, his senses primed and atoms pointed like a scent-tracking dog.

“Since humans are so helpless on their own,” he continues from earlier, “I’ll give you a hint - as a vampire, I can still smell the residue from the kinsman who killed your victim.”

“What?” Caius says, astonished.

Sol chuckles. If Caius didn’t know better, he’d say the vampire was puffing out his chest.

“Vampire senses are much better than humans’,” he says, “though you must have noticed that already. Really, vamps are a form of improvement on the human form. A form of evolution.”

“A superior species, I suppose.” Caius mutters under his breath. Somehow, it doesn’t feel too odd - to be making conversation with a vampire.

Sol pats him on the neck.

“Not so, my little hunter.” He says. “As someone who’s lived on both sides, I can tell you - humans and vampires are both wonderful, and both terrible, in their own ways.”

He turns his attention back to the crime scene.

“To the matter at hand,” Sol continues, “this blood has some intriguing scents mixed into it. Fine silk and men’s cologne, and a very strong smell of old, dry paper. Glue and bound leather. For the scent to linger this strongly, this vampire must spend a lot of time around books…”