Connor stretched lazily in his chair, as though he had all the time in the world to irritate Elias. "You know, Clarke, you've got a talent. Never thought anyone could keep him," he jerked his chin at Victor, "from leveling a city block when he's in a mood. And yet here you are. Blanket, coffee, bite marks. Efficient system."
Elias didn't even blink. "You're mistaking survival tactics for efficiency. A common error among men who think humor compensates for mediocrity."
Connor barked a laugh, bright and sharp. "God, no wonder he likes you."
Samael's brows drew together, the sharp lines of his face tightening as he glanced between them. "Hold on." His voice cut through with quiet authority. "You sound like you've known each other for years."
