Johnny tastes of fear-sweat and salt under Unthank's tongue, the pulse tangible, and it is all too easy to imagine the ozone richness of iron beneath the skin. Maybe later. For now, Johnny's squirming and hissing are quite sufficient to send heat blooming beneath his own skin, and he smiles sharply against his neck; Johnny will be able to feel the press of teeth.

He soon draws back, though, as Johnny bucks up against him, managing no more than a few stuttered syllables in answer. There's no violence about the motion, but with smooth suddenness, a moment later he's got Johnny pinned up against the wall with his hips, one thigh shoved roughly between Johnny's. His eyes on him are cold, but his voice stays mild as ever.

'Tch, impatient. I asked a question, boy, and, ah, heh. You did see what sorts of things I can do when I've a mind.'