The tragedy of Will Graham was that he had put one life of horror behind him only to fall into another. While he may not have asked for chaos, it had found him yet again. Instead of a refined gentleman who odd tastes in meats, it had come to him this time in the shape of a thousand year old seventeen year old. Perhaps there was some truth to chaos knowing its own.

The thing that called himself the Nogitsune, named for a dark chaotic fox spirit that fed off the pain of others as some moths did the tears of other creatures, the vampire had stepped into Will's path on accident. Black eyes moved to his face, taking in what was there before drawing a step back.

Hannibal had eaten the flesh. This creature lived on the blood.

"You look lost," he said quietly as if he were a rentboy sizing up a potential customer.