When Michael didn't speak, Claudius snapped, "What do you want?"
This guy is just a kid, Michael reminded himself. I'm older than he is. He's a stupid kid and I'm smarter. I'll show him. He cleared his throat and announced with as much bravado as he could muster, "I know what you are."
Claudius arched a single brow and tapped his fingers on the desk. "Do you?"
"I do," Michael insisted. "You're—" the word stuck, as if it was too silly to say. "You're vampires."
"It seems you're more intelligent than I gave you credit for." Claudius leaned back in his chair. "So, we're vampires. What of it?"
Shit. Michael had expected him to deny it. Some rational part of himself even hoped Claudius would laugh and churn out an explanation that made more sense. His voice turned hard to hide his discomfort. "If you want me to keep quiet, you're gonna have to make it worth my while. I want one million dollars, in cash, or I tell everyone I can find."