[The difference was stark. Dorian looked him over, taking in the demeanor, part of his mind wondering if it might be some trick. He had seen enough demons twist their behavior to suit the mercurial situation, to suit their victim, intelligent enough to play along with what they wanted or needed. With effort, he pushed that paranoia from his mind. He could not go into every encounter expecting the rules and boundaries of the world he was accustomed; it was difficult to shake that habit, now.]

I... don't know for sure. [What a question. How could Dorian even begin to guess what might have been done?] You said you were not as prone to influence, yes? Perhaps, even if it did affect you, it isn't the same as it might affect another.

[A personalized hell. That appeared to be the running pattern.

Still he could feel those golden eyes on him, cat-like, the narrow of their focus. He wasn't under the illusion he'd broken the vampire from his trance. How strange it was, to feel the weight of that gaze - and know it wanted him so fiercely. Something dark and primal tightened in his stomach.]

We should at least get out of the street. I'd rather you attack me again than some witless local.

[At least Dorian had experience with monsters and night creatures. He gave a gesture, turning to walk.]