What Mr. Vey failed to notice was that hitting Lonnie in the face had cut his own hand on those teeth--he was too single-minded at the moment. Daniel cornered him, pushed him after the punch, and then went for the throat. His fangs were bared, slim ivory needles that were meant for one purpose--drinking the hot heartsblood of prey. The weather left his normally reasonable clothes a bit of a mess, but at that point he didn't care. In the darkened alley, which smelled faintly of concrete, street refuse, and a hint of the muggy smoke of the city, he pressed against Lonnie. His fangs found Lonnie's tender neck.<br/><br/>The blood tasted...beautiful. It was everything. For a moment, Daniel felt the Hunger fade. The noise of the storm faded in his mind, his surroundings went dark, if only because he was so focused on the feeding.<br/><br/>And went he drank enough, he pulled away, looking at Lonnie for a moment to ascertain if he had accidentally killed him or not. Feeding was difficult--he tried not to hurt them too badly, as that was never his actual intent, but there was no denying what he was. He glared and said, "You alive?"<br/><br/>Because once he was sure Lonnie was alive, he was getting out of there to avoid getting caught.