Black Hat had... mixed feelings about his stay in Nightwalkers at this point. There were many things he loathed here: The wasted resources on captives, the flood of competition, no one to trust... and Alison. But it was a pack — a must-have this time of year — and the most peculiar thing, a promotion, was bestowed to him. That along with the disappearance of Rev-fuckery left him feeling significantly less vulnerable and somewhat less detested, though he never fully let his guard down. Now, he had his eyes on the prize — Alison's rank. The bitch hardly showed her face, anyway. She was an easy target.

His thoughtful jaunt was intercepted by the warlord's consort, who appeared to want a word with him. Wordlessly, he stopped and eyed her curiously.

At least his work didn't go unnoticed. He tilted his head when Serem explained the woman would die soon. The fact that she went out of her way to thank him was a sign that the two had some kind of connection — a bitter one. What has she done? Why not kill her on sight? There was naught but curiosity to his tone.

He let Serem speak without interruption. Loathe as he was to admit it, her reasoning was sound — an exception to the norm, but only because she was being used for something actually useful; the whelps could use a live training dummy. He grunted. Fair enough. I look forward to it.

Serem made it clear she put a lot of trust in him from this conversation — a dangerous game. But he would not betray it; not now, anyway. And he wouldn't be Black Hat if he passed up an opportunity to kill someone, would he? You don't have to ask me twice; I'll be there. At last, the signature grin arrived on his maw. Is that all?