It was hard to rouse up any sympathy for someone who thought he could be so cruel with impunity, but Claudia did like a taunting pout and big, understanding nod. Whatever little slap on the wrist he had endured for enacting the much worse thing he was willing to accept deserved any kind of punishment, that should have been well behind him, so he could continue being as vile as he wanted. What a charmed life he had wasted.

The blue liquid that seeped out of him almost like blood, splattering Claudia's fingers and running down his neck, was almost enchanting enough for her to stop. It didn't smell appetizing, and felt wrong, not slick or warm enough, like it was already congealing, like eating it would poison her with his death. So entranced, she was unprepared for him to strike out, and the moment she was struck she yelped and was stumbling away, hands flying back to her own face to cradle over her nose. That was what blood was supposed to feel like, dripping down across her lips. Still too cold, but running freely, eager to leap out of her veins.