Reagan and Caius
It was probably a morbid thing, to be somewhat turned on by the prospect of her husband being able to harvest souls. Reagan usually had a little more empathy for people than Caius did, but with her situation and the amount of alcohol she had consumed tonight, she honestly didn't care much about anything. Dancing with him sounded appealing, since she was still steady in her heels, and Reagan nodded before turning to set her wine glass down on the nearest table. "I saw you speaking to Brianna McCarthy," she murmured, taking Caius's hand to walk to the dance floor. "What did she want?"
Caius put his own drink down to accept Reagan’s hand, and he led her to an empty spot on the polished dance floor. “Her property back,” he answered quietly as he pulled Reagan in close. Holding her lightly, he started to sway them to the music. “She’s coming by tomorrow evening to pick it up. I should have the whole thing saved by then to review at our leisure.” It was probably some sort of breach of trust, but Caius didn’t care. She hadn’t told him not to do it, and it was always wise to take advantage of opportunities when they were sitting on his coffee table. “We also talked briefly about listing my house. It’ll be ready for that soon.”
"You mean to review at your leisure," Reagan reminded him simply, because what would she have to gain from those pages? What could she do with them right now? Maybe she was being snippy or resentful about it, but it wasn't directed at Caius as much as it was her situation. There were other dancers on the dance floor, but it wasn't crowded at least. She stayed close to Caius regardless, wanting to feel him near as much as she knew they couldn't talk properly with people around. Reagan arched a dark brow, studying his face in the soft lighting. "Do you still plan on giving any of those copies to Zania?"
Caius almost corrected Reagan in return, that the copies would still be there when everything was fixed and she had her magic back, but he knew that probably wouldn’t go over well tonight. There was a time for vocal hope and now wasn’t it. He wasn’t about to give up, however. They now had both of their magical parents working on the problem too, and there had to be a solution. This couldn’t have been the first time a witch sacrificed their magic for something and regained it. All of that had already been said and didn’t need to be repeated at that moment. Instead Caius made a bit of a face. “I don’t know,” he said, moving them slowly around the dance floor. “She seems to have decided she hates me, so ... I don’t really feel like I owe her anything at all.” Except maybe an apology, but those never came easy to him with anyone, especially with someone who already had an attitude.
Reagan arched a dark brow, resisting the urge to look around the crowded room for Zania. It wouldn't be hard to find her, given she usually stuck out like a sore thumb during these type of events. "Why do you think she hates you?" She had no real knowledge of their private conversations, or what really happened the night Caius went to see Zania after he lost his memories. She didn't even know if that had been the last time or not, but something must have happened if Zania was now holding some kind of grudge or ill will towards Caius. They had been friends before... more, even, though Reagan didn't want to think about that with the amount of wine she had consumed. She didn't handle jealousy well even when she was sober.