Daniel sits next to Louis, wherever he ends up perching for the casual recital, and uses Lestat's preoccupation with tuning as a chance to explain,

'Maybe a joint and a half, and the equivalent of a line. He didn't do any independently.' Just ate some people, which probably accounts for the added euphoria. Blood, a 'real' hunt, which seemed more like a seduction that ended in a horror movie. Though what's hunting, really, it's not like they're out there with rifles. 'I had more than double than he did. I think he was just happy to get out, and happier to come back here.'

There is certainly some truth to this. But also, Daniel 'Mexican black tar' Molloy is absolutely underestimating his own constitution and tolerance; blood has little to do with it, his brain is trained to look at anything that couldn't compassionately euthanize an African elephant and shrug it off. Of course he's fine. Poor Lestat does not deserve these lightweight aspersions.

Doesn't seem to have dampened his musical acuity, though. Daniel finds himself paying close attention, despite himself.