“No more maker and made bullshit,” he agreed. “But how about… friends?” I grinned, because the vampire who had saved me, who was at least fifteen hundred years older than me and had half of Ammontraíeth pissing in their pants whenever he walked lest he turn their blood to smoke, actually seemed nervous. “I think I’d like that.” At that, he returned my grin. “In that case, you’d better call me Tal.”
