i'm a man of wealth and taste

“As for what I was doing here - isn’t that rather obvious?”

“Frankly, I couldn’t care less what you think regarding my state of paranoia,” he states, using air quotes around the word paranoia. “I just want you to understand where you stand in this situation.” 

“Don’t bite off more than you can chew, Shaw. You’ll eventually choke and I’ll be right here to help the process,” he added as a threat. One that he meant, of course. Noah could only hope Edward could see it. 

“So again: reflect upon actions and act like a man of your age. Not a blood thirsty newborn,” he finished, the condescending tone never leaving his voice. 

"That’s what you never understand,” he said, showing his teeth. “You think I don’t think things through? I do. Not everyone who stays clear of your pack is a fool.”

“The warlock, though. I am  sorry about that.” His voice oozed insincerity as he met Noah’s eyes. “An accident.”

“But I do have to ask you to respect it. If you’re not in our pack, we need you to leave them alone. Stop asking questions, stop treating them like blood bags, and stop looking for excuses for me to drop whatever alliance we have at the moment. You know it is not in your best interest to do that right now.”

He set the glass.

“Now, why would I want to endanger our alliance? Seems to me you’re jumping at shadows, my friend. Getting paranoid in your old age?”

“Then I’m sure you can relate why I was a little frustrated to find out one of my warlocks almost bleeding to death from a puncture wound in his neck.”

“I always care for what’s mine. Ah, yes - is there something you need my help with?” A quirk of an eyebrow, as if he didn’t know. As if he hadn’t been waiting for this.

“I miss the friends we were. I miss the talks, the drinking, the women. I don’t miss you sinking your teeth into every thing with a pulse and being so fucking smug about it,” Levi said, poison on his tongue. If it was a fight Edward was looking for, that’s what I will give him. But I hope to God that it does not. 

But this was like sinking back into a familiar rhythm, as though it was only yesterday that they'd had an argument like this -

Only yesterday that he'd seen Walker last look at him this contemptuously, as though Edward, for all his years, was nothing.

He even dared to say that he regretted the friendship. Edward had honored him, though Walker had been nothing but a newborn whelp at the time and he one of the oldest vampires that walked this earth, and Walker threw it in his face and pretended to be regretful.

He snarled, his fists clenching. Then, he turned away and paced.

"And tell me, why shouldn't I be satisfied with myself?" He faced Levi again, spreading his arms out to indicate their surroundings. Look - this world. All his, ripe for the plucking. "I'm strong. Stronger than my prey. Why shouldn't I take what I want?"

"How many of those humans you try to care about would give a damn about you if they knew what you were? How many of them would hold themselves back if they had your gifts?" He laughed. "Do you really think, even after all this time, any of their lives are worth saving?"

"Though I suppose it does mean you can feed on the guests."

“I have been doing fine by myself,” Levi tilted his head and rubbed his neck. “I don’t need or want to hunt like you do,” He stood straight and looked Edward in the eyes. 

They had been friends once. They drank together and hunted together. Their split came shortly after Levi’s revelation. When he say Ed killing and hunting for sport, it made him sick. He has no reverence for human life. Once Levi stopped drowning his memories in booze, they took over his whole brain. Sitting under a tree in Central Park in 1923, Levi replayed his mother’s death over and over in his head.