But there is a light in his eyes, new and old at the same time, that tells me that there’s no need for me to explain anything. He already knows all of this. Killing vampires is second nature to him—first, maybe. I open my mouth. Then, unsure of what to say, close it. Suddenly, I feel like crying, and I’m not certain I know why. Until Lazlo says, “Aethelthryth.”
