The brief pause between Hook's question and Madam Healer's response was, in his ears, an answer in itself. Being bitten was something you did with deliberation and without hesitation - or it was like ripping off a band-aid, done nervously and quickly before one's mind can be changed. At least in his experience. Perhaps the hesitant never got up the nerve to approach him.

Terry was disappointed. She had appeared old enough to know her mind and to know what she desired when they entered the bar.

"Time!" he echoed in his two voice, and began to set his jaw in another capaphony of somewhat softer snaps.

His grin, all sharpness, was somewhat crooked as he fixed Miranda Storm with a knowing look. "Lucky for you, luv, I've got time to waste. Pity. I've no doubt you would have been delicious."

Tasted of, from the smell of her now, the smell of her skin, flesh, even at this distance: late nights, cigarette ash, parchment. Something astingent and sharp. But not sharp enough.

"And I take it you're not interested?" Hooker couldn't keep the laugh out of his voice as he turned his attention to the wizard. "I've never drunk a hunter and left him alive. Come back if you'd like to be a first."

He nodded at his door and the handle pushed down on its own accord, opening.

Miranda made the most sensible decision she had in a long while. She declined the stretched jaw of the vampire known as Hooker, and gave her apologies politely. Ignan hid his surprise at this change of heart, but if anything it made him more on his guard. Now they were in a room with a vampire who was about to feed on her. There was probably the same policy of no refunds as no flesh unbitten.

“… I’ve no doubt you would have been delicious.”

And had you tasted her you might both have wanted more, the wizard replied in silent internal monologue.

“And I take it you’re not interested?” The undead rounded on him. “I’ve never drunk a hunter and left him alive. Come back if you’d like to be a first.”

The silver-haired wizard’s pale eyes narrowed, predatory.

“I’ve never left a set of fangs in a face,” he informed the once-wizard, “so we’ll leave it at that for a first.” He glanced to his wife, and jerked his head in command to leave before him. Ready to protect her as he had since they’d approached the wretched place. Why people felt the need to visit, he would never understand, and why the Ministry gave them permission… well he’d never trusted Glass and he could certainly throw him further.