Felix Caelus

"Trust me, I'd have preferred not to-" and he doesn't stop to consider whether that is actually true, "but you wouldn't respond and I needed to finish the deal. It's hard to keep any bite in his voice when Harrow's trying to warn him of the danger.

Still, he pulls himself up and folds his arms while Harrow inspects his blades. "It's done, anyway. You have to leave them somewhere safe, and they have the right to take a soul for every month you're apart, but they'll let you leave them without trouble."

More-or-less.

"I don't have a list of people I want..." His gaze drops to those blades. "...Dead." Worse than dead, is the rub. In the aftermath of all that, still feeling the afterglow of that rush... he's not sure yet who he'd wish on the other end. He shakes his head. "That bargain we'll have to settle later."

Harrow mightn't be too pleased about leaving that hanging over him, but right now Felix is too much a mess of high-strung emotions to care particularly. And why does Harrow assume he wants anyone dead anyway? And then again... there are people who deserve an awful fate. It's just a matter of deciding when it's useful for them to die, and finding them...