Changing Fortunes (BoyxBoy)

Part 19

A/N: TMI for Cam and a foursome! Enjoy JellyfishSong

"Try and behave yourself, at least a little?" Weasel pleaded to Angelo as the four of them walked towards Angelique's place the next night.

Angelo glared at him. "Maybe I should just wait outside while the three of you go play nicey-nice with that witchy bitch."

"You have a problem with her?" Cam asked him.

"Fucking grass-eater," Angelo muttered. "Milk-drinker."

Balint stared at him. "You're kidding. No wonder you can't stand her."

Cam cleared his throat. "Excuse me but not everyone can fucking understand what you're all talking about."

"Sorry Cam," Balint said with slight embarrassment. "Grass-eaters don't drink human blood. They only drink the blood of animals. Milk is what we call animal blood and to drink it is considered disgusting. Calling someone a grass-eater is a huge insult."

Cam blinked. "You mean there's actually a choice?"

Balint shrugged. "Technically, of course there is. Blood is blood. But animal blood only quenches the thirst. Nothing more. The lack of emotion makes it taste flat and it's not as sweet as human blood. "

Cam fought the urge to gag. Balint was being honest with him, he reminded himself. This was what Balint was. What Balint always was. The only difference now was that it wasn't behind Cam's back. But Cam was beginning to wonder just how much honesty he really wanted.

And of course, Angelo could tell even though Cam tried to keep his reaction as neutral as possible because he laughed and gave Cam that smirk that made Cam want to slap the fucker. "Does something offend you, sweet thing?"

"Not now, asshole," Cam growled.

"Guess it does," Angelo grinned evilly.

Weasel flashed Angelo a dirty look. "What did I say about behaving yourself?"

"I told you I'd be civil to the wench," Angelo snapped. "That's as far as it goes, dearheart."

Weasel sighed. "I need her help, Angel Boy. We need her help and being nasty is not gonna get us anywhere with Angelique. Do your bitching afterwards. Not there."

There was something sharp in Weasel's tone. That same tone he used when Cam had asked about Balint when he'd just found out what he himself was. A-don't-fuck-with-me tone. The tone of someone who would be obeyed. Not expected to be. But would be.

"Don't worry, Weasel, I'll be nice." Something strange flickered across Angelo's face. Then he smiled, his dark eyes reflecting cold amusement. As if he was enjoying his own private joke. "Real nice."

Weasel's eyes narrowed with the same suspicion they had when he'd asked Angelo why he was able to open the door to the tomb. He knew what Cam had already figured out. Angelo was hiding something from Weasel again.