Cesare shrugs loftily, watches birds wheel. "Donna Isabel hardly is a toy, and if anything, although the admission greatly hurts my pride, it's she who is fu-... having me." He sighs, shrugs again. "The frisson of potentially having your throat ripped."

Then Alex's words filter through, slowly. "A vampire, è vero? Physically? You don't mean that, do you? Would that explain the state I picked you up in?"