Salvadore smiled at her, with an expression like surprise at her naivete. “You asked for blood from a live pony. There is only one sort of client with needs like that. But please, don’t feel as though you aren’t welcome in Dragon’s Folly. Salvadore appreciates all clients.” He turned, gesturing to a locked door at the far end of the room. At his motion, one of the brutes rushed over to open it for them. “Please, come. Your merchandise is waiting.”