Thankfully, Morgan expressed her approval of the idea to go on Sunday. It was close enough that they wouldn't be wasting time, but it left them with enough space for preparation. In the best-case scenario, they'd be in and out with the information, bringing them that much closer to solving this damned mystery and getting on with their lives. In the worst-case scenario ... actually, there were so many things that could go wrong. Thinking about it — or even worse, bringing it up in conversation — was too risky if she didn't want Morgan, or herself, for that matter, backing out of the plan. On top of that, there was the looming issue of whatever Adrian would want in return, regardless of how well their little disguise worked.<br/><br/>The more she thought about it, the more Lydia realized how awful their situation truly was. She raised a hand to her temple, refraining from massaging them and looking as troubled as she felt. Morgan appeared to be on the same page, pinching her nose and looking away. Or perhaps that was just the result of that hefty swig she'd taken.<br/><br/>Lydia chuckled at Morgan's question about being bitten. Maybe it wasn't the best timing to be flashing her fangs in such a way, but she couldn't help it. To compare this mock-claiming idea to the activity that went on around the nightclub was<i>far</i>too much of a stretch. "Well, I dunno, either; can't say<i>I've</i>ever been bitten by a vampire." That was true, provided she didn't count the time she'd bitten herself to revive Alex, although that decision was so hasty, she hadn't even registered the pain. Any pureblood vampire's knowledge of what being bitten felt like was limited to snippets of what they'd been told by donors or others who'd experienced it at some point. Vampires biting other vampires was a rare phenomenon and usually a malicious act, since it was unpleasant and purposeless to feed from one another. That said, she'd been biting people for well over a hundred years now, so she liked to think she knew what she was talking about.<br/><br/>"I'm only teasing," she continued. "I can give you an idea of what to expect, based on human accounts, but understand that what happens on Sunday will be ... different. Around here-," she gestured to the nightclub, as Morgan had a moment ago, "-any biting that goes on is most often in the context of sexual encounters, in private. As you can imagine, it's a rather<i>intimate </i>exchange. In the heat of the moment, the pain is minimal. Of course, there will always be the initial shock of having one's skin broken, but that'll fade quickly. The actual drawing of blood is controlled — it can be as slow and as gentle as the vampire in the scenario desires." Or as unaccommodating. Vampire<i>attacks</i>were anything but pleasant for the human involved.<br/><br/>"Now, Morgan, in your case," she said, renewing eye contact, "you'll be left with a mark that should heal within the following two weeks. I won't draw enough blood for dizziness or fainting to become an issue, so physically, you'll be fine. The goal is to be relaxed. It'll only be unpleasant if you're tense."<br/><br/>That would be easier said than done, Lydia was sure, especially without the the promise of pleasure to distract from being bitten. This was all for business. Lydia had never bitten anyone for "business" before. She had more than a few ways to lessen Morgan's anxiety about the entire situation, but unfortunately, none of them could be considered "professional." Though ... now that she’d been speaking about it, Lydia couldn’t resist the thoughts that flashed in her head, the not-so-distant memories of sinking her fangs into soft flesh, the warmth of human skin against hers, the hot blood pouring over her tongue ... it was different each time. The taste was always unique, but what fascinated her was each reaction — the gasps, the soft whimpers, the moans, the ultimate submission. Just thinking about it was intoxicating. Lydia couldn’t help but wonder what sort of noise Morgan would make if she just pinned her against the wall and—<br/><br/>“It’s ... unfortunate that this is all happening so suddenly,” she added, swirling around the wine in her glass and distracting herself from the intrusive thought, “but I promise it won’t be as bad as you think.” She already knew it wouldn’t be bad for herself.