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Leo is not new to being a vampire of the Red Court. He's not a noble or anything, but he's been around for a very long time. He's reached the ripe old age of 600, outliving his noble father and the vast majority of his bloodthirsty sisters, almost entirely by being a filthy coward. He has no pretensions to the blood of milk-pale virgins; he's perfectly fine getting his dinner for the week under a bridge. He occasionally keeps slaves, but only rarely. Most of the time, he occupies himself with reading, and painting, and delicious, delicious blood. On occasion he indulges in a good alleyway lurking.
This is one of those occasions. Chicago's alleyways are not particularly well maintained, but they're better than the slums of Toledo in 1632. Leo likes them. They're meditative, and often contain convenient homeless populations.
"A roof and a conspicuous lack of windows. What are our purposes, exactly? Beyond survival. You mentioned absurdly unlikely plans of some kind."
Cath makes a noise.
"Me? Reckless? Well I never."
"It would not be all that happened. Your blood would be turned to ice, you'd be shredded into a million little royal bits, if it really took all that much to kill you she might take your soul and do some unpleasantnesses to it instead. If Mab wanted you dead, you'd be dead. Not dying sounds like the best of your plans so far, let's go with that one."
Cath meows.
"I appreciate your concern, but for once in my life I think my degree of ambition is perfectly appropriate to the situation," says Milo.
He's crying a bit again. Fucking souls.
"I'm just, I'm sorry, I just- I don't know how to protect you enough to, to make the little flashing light in my head stop saying 'WHY ARE YOU LETTING HIM WALK OFF THIS CLIFF', I don't know what I can- say, or do, or- I don't know. I'm, I'm sorry."
Cath meows, somewhat at length. Milo listens to her, then translates, "She says that although I'm frequently a reckless idiot, I am actually very smart and will probably do just fine if I get a chance to sit down and learn what makes this place tick. Thank you, Catherine."
"Thanks," says Leo. "I- that's good. Thanks." He extends a hand to the filthy creature in a show of peace.
Cath pads daintily up to Leo and bumps her head against his fingertips. She is very soft and fluffy and not filthy at all.
Leo quietly pets the soft and fluffy abomination. She's very fluffy.
The soft fluffy abomination purrs. Milo decides that the 'I approve' translation probably doesn't need to be made explicit.