[It would work. Maybe sometime she'll offer him her hand; for now it's something she only gives people once they've properly earned it, and for the stupidest reason, too - her handshake is weak now, something she has to focus on, a vulnerability. She used to have a strong handshake, a politician's handshake, and now . . . and now.]

[But her jagged smile does widen, all needle-teeth. She likes him. She likes the sharp sensibility of him. She likes his ferocity, his uncompromising desire for violence. She likes the fact that he isn't fucking whining.]

[Her eyes flash, mismatched as they are, and she nods, acknowledging.]

I'm Lila Zacharov. I haven't been here for long, but I know a lot of people will tell you to try to stay as human as you can. As moral. Don't. Be exactly what you want to be. Okay?