"I would," Vomas responded, though he didn't do so immediately. He took a meandering path through the room, pausing intermittently to take in the sights. Limited as they were, the decorations were tasteful, and he made a small, appreciative noise in the back of his throat, then nodded to himself.
He finally lowered himself onto the couch, and noted that if he'd wanted, he would've been able to stretch out fully on it. "And you'd like to know why I'm here," he said, regarding Cain with a speculative eye.
His tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip and he took a breath like he would continue, but he hesitated. Cain didn't want him there - he'd plucked it directly the mortal's mind, but despite that, he was behaving in a respectful manner. He was composed, dignified, and they were traits that Vomas admired greatly but found rarely. Even Samuel, who he'd loved, had failed to meet his expectations in that regard.
The grand opening of Venture had been an utter disaster, though it might've turned out differently had Samuel not forced his hand behaving as he had. Regardless, he'd learned many valuable lessons that night: the first and foremost was that he couldn't afford being driven to distraction while swimming in a shark tank, and the second was that emotional, reckless Samuel would only ever be a liability to him.
Cain, on the other hand, might be molded and shaped into something useful.
"I came to offer you a job," he finally said. "Your old job, really, but with some revisions. I want you to be my donor."
