Tristan: "The path of least resistance," "We'd do best to try and avoid the thralls, if we can, or reason with them if we can't. But if they're too far gone, we're better off putting them out of their misery. We'll save more lives by killing the vampires than we will by letting ourselves get captured and fed on because someone gets squeamish at the last moment."
Those were people, Brandy wanted to argue, but she knew Tristan was right. They had to approach this as a zero-sum game: either they won, or the vampires did. And once night fell again, the game changed in their enemy's favor, and they couldn't risk that…
Brandy knew she could deliver a killing blow, though.She wouldn't have the stomach for it.
But she could hand over the knife… watch the door... be complicit. Brandy could make peace with the idea of that much. She thought - she hoped. Or, hoped she hoped. It wasn't an easy idea to digest, even as much as she knew the importance of the task before them.
Tristan: "What do we know about vampire weaknesses, aside from sunlight?"
Jaya: "We prioritize our lives first," "As for weaknesses, I've helped slay a few in the past. Decapitation, fire, totally taking out their heart--that seems to do it. I've never tried the other Dracula staples, like garlic." "Is there even garlic around these parts? I swear you've cooked with it before--or something close enough to it."
"Yeah, I don't think pasta's their vice," Brandy quipped. The truth was that she had no idea if garlic would be a deterrent… but somehow, she doubted it. There was a blurry sort of division between the stories from Earth and the realities of Eventyr. But, they didn't have Christianity here, so a cross wouldn't work. And Brandy couldn't think of any example of a vampire being put off by a strong smell here…
Only after this very practical, culinary approach did her eyes wander to Tristan. "Dracula" was such a common allusion to her, and Jaya such a familiar face, that it had taken her a moment to realize that their companion may not have been in on the joke....
Or maybe he was. It didn't hurt to push - Zaire had never gotten her jokes, but he hadn't called her a witch for them either.
"You know any stories that might help?" Brandy asked. "Dracuia? Nosferatu? Lestat? Spike? Edward...?"