He will try and he will probably fail. Leo is already proving difficult to be rude to, moreso than others. His earnestness resembled that of a young man he knew some decades ago - still knew, technically. Elliot wasn't dead yet.

"We're similar to the creatures Bram Stoker envisioned in certain ways," Devin allowed dryly. "He probably met a few of us and was smart enough not to write a perfect facsimile."

He tilted his head slightly. "Are the Blood Breed exceptionally immature?"