One night, Randall said to me, "Can I ask you a personal question?”
“Sure, I guess,” I replied.
"While on the job, have you killed in the completion of the task? Vengeance, that is,” he asked.
He asked me the question I least wanted to answer. Uncanny, that. “I've killed numerous monsters and demons. I don't kill humans.” I paused to take a breath. “I've only killed one human ever, and that was before I was officially a demon...”
I must have looked upset, because Randall said, "If I'm being too personal, just say so. I was just wondering.”
“Let's just leave it at...I don't kill.” I sighed heavily and looked out the window.
Randall quickly moved on to a new question: “How long have you been a demon?"
“381 years as of May 5th, 2003,” I told him as I shuffled the cards. “That's a long time, huh?”
"For me, yes. In the grand scheme of things, no,” he said.
I smiled dreamily. “It has seemed so very long sometimes. But lately...not so much.”
Before I could get gooey, Randall said, “Did you choose to be a demon, or were you chosen?” He took the cards from me and began to deal them.
“A little of both,” I said. “I had no idea there was such a thing as vengeance demons until my brother was murdered.” I noticed Willy casting an anxious glance back at me in the rearview mirror, and I smiled sadly at him.
“Then you were tricked by someone taking advantage of personal tragedy?” Randall raised an eyebrow at me.
There was no way he could understand how it was for me. Nobody could unless they were there. “It wasn't a trick,” I said. I couldn’t meet his eyes…not if I wanted to stay calm. “It was the only... It was justice.”
“Justice is important,” Randall said, his tone soothing. “Did you ever find your justice?”
I looked intently at my hand of cards. “Technically, I suppose I did. But it didn't bring him back.” I paused. “It didn't make up for the life I took.”
“I see,” Randall said.
I wasn’t sure he did. “Don't get me wrong...I'm grateful to D'Hoffryn for making me a demon. Undoubtedly I would have been imprisoned and tortured, then hanged for what I did.”
“That would have been very bad indeed,” he replied.
I slapped a card down on the table. “It's over now. That girl seems like someone else to me, at times.”
A long silence ensued, and Randall said, “Maybe a change in subject would be in order.”
I thought he had a valid point.