"Yeah," is agreeable. Daniel is still laying on the floor. He's probably a little bit high, but it's been many decades since being a little bit high has influenced his decision making. He can't use this as an excuse, either, but he is using it as help. Like a step-ladder. Shearing away anxiety about pulling the trigger on all these bad idea words, aware that the shearing is happening.

He thinks Armand looks terrified.

Predators are most dangerous when they're cornered.

Hm.

"You had a lot of years in which you could have just killed me, though. And now. You've ripped the bandaid off. You could make as many fledglings as you want. Younger, prettier, less irritating fledglings. I think about that. I think about how it's not me, not really, I'm incidental. I just happened to be the kid Louis was with. I think about the years I spent with a hole in the shape of something in me, and not knowing it was you."

An accidental piece of this puzzle. Daniel is just his job. What's Armand? The devil? Just a person, still?

"A hundred years, you said."