An undead hooker. Huh. Daniel gathered both knees into his elbows and looped his arms around. So his sire hadn’t been kidding when she hinted that those vamps who didn’t steal for cash, screwed for it. Theresa didn’t look like any prostitute he’d seen before, but he guessed there was a market for the kinder-whore thing.

He raised a hand.

“Question. How do you—?” He broke off in search of the right phrasing. “How do you do that if they’re… old or they smell weird or are otherwise just grotesque? Doesn’t it make your skin crawl? I mean they’re inside you.” He drove the point home with his hand. "I can't even bite someone if I don't find them marginally appealing and that takes ten seconds."