Carrick's anger was a fire Hermes never wanted to stoke, but here he was anyway. "You paid me," he snarled as the man pushed back. "Very first day I got here. I'm sure even you could imagine how much money I'd make for you on my back too." Between him and Alcuin, they could bankrupt the city easily. It was only fortunate that neither of their masters had an interest in using them to that end. One possessive and the other humane.
But then Carrick was talking again, and for a split second, Hermes was completely confused before he was being taken more roughly than the vampire had dared before. The cry that was ripped from his throat was low and loud, pure pain as he clung to his master, nails pressing into ancient skin while his muscles tensed even more to try to instinctively compensate for what was happening even though he knew he should be relaxing to make it easier.
"Is that what this is about?" he gasped once he could think or speak or even breathe again. "Past-tense, my lord. Wanted. No longer. Why the hell would I be so afraid of you disposing of me if that was my endgame in the first place?"