Natasha let Samandriel snap and let Mitchell have his little pity party. She waited, calmly, until they were done. Then, once they were, she cleared her throat and turned to Samandriel.
"You may get a say, but it's not my final say. You may have lost your grace, but I'll be going in with a plan, an angelic sword, and a higher rank than you. Things like this must be planned. Information must be gathered, observations must be made.
"But that's not the point right now. What makes you think you deserved what he did to you? You didn't. He-" She stopped and shuddered, remembering the way the vampire looked at her brother in his memories.
She turned to Mitchell, eager to take her mind off of the memory. "The fault doesn't lie with you either. For a vampire, you're soft and kind. A far different cry from most others. I was apprehensive about you, but now I see you're a good match for my brother.
"I think you two need to talk before I say anything else. If you'd like, Clint and I will busy ourselves while you two do so, unless either of you believes backup is needed."