"Yes, it smells like the ocean. It doesn't smell like swamp. I would think you'd prefer it." Rolling his eyes, he leaned against the railing and raised a brow. "But something tells me you wouldn't be happy, no matter where we ended up." Erik was teasing faintly, but there was a grain of truth to it. "We could move back to Shreveport, if that pleased you, but I'd figure you'd prefer being closer to the fashion trends and things to do, humans to kill discreetly. I prefer it."
He turned to her and nearly smirked. "You'll enjoy it here. Give it a week and you'll refuse to go back, even if I insisted."