“It’s not just my blood.” “That makes it worse.” He grimaces. “The only place I want Eza’s bloodstains are on the floor. And maybe my knuckles.” “I didn’t take you for one to resort to blows.” “I’m not, usually.” I glance his way. “Am I to believe you’d get yourself dirty for me?” “Believe whatever you like,” he says aloud. But his slight smile says simply, Yes.
