Cade had said nothing, had made no indication that he had noticed, but the scent emanating from Storm was unmistakeable. He did not see, had no way of knowing about the little flask of death and joy secreted away in the other's pocket, but he could smell it on Storm's breath. How virulent the image it painted in his mind's eye - the young man next to him with his head tilted back, vivid red trickling into his mouth. He'd known the taste, the way it made him both feel and not at the same time. He'd known how addled it made his mind, and how much clearer the world felt at the crest of bloodlust.

But that was in the past. And the past had no place in the present, even if his very own presence defied that very logic. How illogical. 'Dead things should stay dead.'

"Clearly it's all a myth," he quipped in response to the question about speed.

Yes. Cade's easy smile was all that Storm would see, and the bemused laughter that followed after that. Wedding? He looked down at his suit with a light, affronted frown. What was so wrong with power-dressing? What was the chief curator, master of illusion, if not a snappy dresser to the public eye? Storm hadn't seen the faded sweats and mismatched socks he preferred wearing at home.

"I wouldn't know. Never been to a wedding." A pause. "Not intentionally, anyway." Again, his mind flickered with past memories, even as he pulled out his keys and unlocked the porsche he had rented while his own bimmer was being serviced. The parking lot was in as much disrepair as he remembered when he first arrived in Hong Kong, yet it had never bothered him. There was something oddly, charmingly hilarious that Hong Kong's most popular museums shared such a shoddy parking space. Cade slipped into his seat, and as Storm settled in, reached out to fiddle with the temperature. "I usually like it when it's cold, but let me know if it's too much for you."

And with that, he drove off. "That appointment you have scheduled for later. How important is it? Can it be cancelled?"