Rings an odd memory, of Louis coaxing him to the poisoned twin eighty years ago. Irrelevant to the moment, save that Lestat has a decent sense of when Louis is lying to him.

He lets out a 'hmm' in answer, disappointed and unsurprised, and in no mood to argue. His attention swivels back to the human, offered up for slaughter, and approaches. Tender hands on his face, claws gently stroking the soft flesh at his cheeks. A gift all the same, fetched for him. A moment to let his fangs down, to show them to the mortal as he parts his mouth before pulling him in close, and sinking a bite into his throat.

Bordering on indulgent, this third, even in his state, but Lestat drinks deeply all the same. Watches Louis as he does so before he follows the urge to close his eyes. The mortal's knees give as he swoons. Lestat holds him.