Ricardo slammed his glass down. "Shut it. He was the one who abandoned us first! We did what we had to. Imagine if they had taken the Crimson Nectar for themselves. The world would have ended."
"Maybe," Harry whispered. He stood up, shoulders stiff. "Either way, I want no part in this anymore. I'm done. I am leaving."
He walked out without looking back.
"Coward," Gio hissed.
Now only a few of them remained, staring at the table like it held an answer.
What could two old hunters do? Should they simply sit and watch disaster approach? Or should they try—somehow—to prevent it?
The door creaked open again.
Gio didn't even turn. "Tch. Do not crawl back after acting brave. Just go already."
"Gio," Ricardo muttered, "that is not him."
Gio finally looked toward the doorway.
A single figure stood there. Not a vampire, at least not openly. The stranger wore a black robe, the hood deep enough to hide their face entirely.
"Who are you?" Gio demanded.
