"What have I taught you, Mith Thabri Nidra?"

Sabri stood with her arms locked tight at her lower back, the fear she held for only her Sire was palpable, and aura that any Mekhet could easily spot. The constant drooling of her Sire's lisp also repelled her. Still, Sabri held her composure, and didn't flinch when a tiny particle of spit flew from Commissioner Mahdri Sandeep's mouth and landed on her left cheek just below her eye. It may have quivered.

"Sire, you have taught me that fear is but an extension of who we are, and what our blood holds is our gift to this Requiem. We, as Demons, are the true face of fear in the Gilded Cage, and as warrior-merchants, it is our duty to uphold this tradition."

Sandeep looked up at her from his desk.

"Tho tell me, what are you afraid of, Mith Nidra? I can almotht....tathte it."

Sabri wanted to speak but knew that it wasn't the spit, the lisp, the grotesque visage or even the chamber of her Sire. No, it was his Beast that cowed her most.

"Your Beast, Sire. Its your Beast."

His eyes, spaced that little bit too far apart from each other, takes her in, and he smiles.

"Then, firtht thingth firtht. You mutht overcome that when you reach Thacramento. Otherwithe, it may be a weapon that could be uthed againtht you. Now, go, and pack. There ith much to be done."

And so, she did.