Blood Lines

it chose to trade Tawfik in. It'd never get a better opportunity because you," she jabbed an emphatic finger in Henry's direction,
    "are as immortal as Tawfik was."
    Celluci frowned. "Then Henry's in danger."
    Vicki shrugged. "We all are. We know its name. The moment we give in to hopelessness and despair, it'll be on us like-like politicians at a free bar. It may not need worshipers to survive, but it certainly needs them to get stronger. All it has to do is convince one of us and then we tell two friends and they tell two friends and so on and so on and here we go around the mulberry bush again. It'll want Henry, he'll last longer. But it'll settle for you or me."
    'So basically what you're saying," Celluci sighed, "in your own long-winded way, is that it isn't over. We've beaten Tawfik, but we've still got Tawfik's god to fight."
    To his surprise, Vicki smiled. "We've been fighting the god of hopelessness and despair all our lives, Mike. Now, we know it has a name. So what? It's the same fight."
    Then her expression changed and Celluci, who recognized trouble, shot an anxious look at Henry who apparently recognized it, too.
    'And now, I have something to say to you both." Her voice should've been registered as a lethal weapon. "If either of you ever again pull the patronizing bullshit you pulled on me tonight at the base of the tower, I'm going to rip your living hearts out and feed them to you. Do I make myself clear?"
    The answering silence spoke volumes.
    'Good. You can spend the next few months making it up to me."

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