Anthony only managed a cocky smirk in regards to dueling before the older boy had him laughing his arse off. Hellspawn. Fuck, that was a good word for it. Anthony never needed to have children. They would be monsters. From the looks of it, Terrence wasn't much better, so yes. They needed to kill the swimmers before they even thought about looking for an egg.
Ugh.
"No children. Ever," he agreed as a shiver ran up his spine. "I don't handle shite well. Or vomit, for that matter, unless it's my own." And that was only after he'd been drinking too much.
"So, what? You feel comfortable knowing that you've enabled a terrorist on his path to destruction? I mean, you can't expect me to use the wand for only hexing journals. And practice-dueling."