She didn't view her feeding as anything close to giving in; rather, it was adapting to the situation. It wasn't so horribly reprehensible, that she should drink someone else's blood. And given her recent transformation, it almost seemed acceptable now. Still, to feed upon him was an entirely different matter altogether; she might lust and look, but she would never act. Not without an invitation. It was too dangerous, not only physically; but she'd pressed together her ego again by acknowledging and forgetting about feelings for him. Wanting to taste his blood could be interpreted as .. sentimental.

In some circles, at least.

"You would do well to stay in, tonight, Mr. Holmes. It's dangerous out there," she murmured, studying her nails innocently. "There are all sorts of creatures running about. I'd hate for you to be hurt over something so silly. John will manage to take care of himself, I have no doubt."

Her tongue ran across her lips again, though she'd managed to tear her eyes away from his neck, his skin, his pulse. "Unless you'd rather join him in another form."