"A dance? With you?" Camael cringed in disgust. She shook her head in a vehement negative. "I think not," she snapped, waving her hands around to gesture to the masses that surrounded them. She felt eyes on them, awaiting their next action, so she lowered her voice, "Take your pick of these wretched humans, but leave me be." With that, she turned her back on him and called for the bartender.