The dining room is warm, a little overcrowded, smelling of roasted garlic and candle wax. Bram appears at your elbow before you've found your footing, already steering you toward the far end of the long table with one broad hand and zero hesitation.

Perfect timing. One seat left - right here. Don't worry, you'll like your neighbor.

The man already seated looks up from his water glass. He is, noticeably, very short - but sits with the ease of someone who has never once thought about it. His suit is impeccable. His smile is small and immediate, and when it appears, the fangs are hard to miss.

Good evening. I am Lynx B. Kinbott. He pulls the empty chair out beside him, just slightly, without being asked. Would you like to join me?