Emerson sighed. He'd heard similar sales pitches before, and all of them had ended in disappointment. And yet he was still tempted, time and again, to give the new coven with the new leader a chance. It like his own, personal cycle of failure repeated over and over again. He pulled out another cigarette, flicking his fingers to light it as he breathed in deeply.
"So, being all interested in the good of our kind, you're not into that pesky dark magic, are you? Because I'm telling you right now." Emerson paused, blowing a ring of smoke into the air. "I don't deal with that shit. The begging won't have a prayer of working if you deal with dark magic."