Cosmo has enough room to fix his glasses, pushing them up his nose, but now he can clearly see her fangs. His heart leaps into his throat, and at the same time his pulse quickens with fear that he wishes he could smother. She can probably smell it on him. Vampires can smell when you're scared. That's what his mother always told him.

"I—I taste bad, though, mysterious lady. All burnt and rotten eggs. Like sulfur," he says, grinning back at her with only a fraction of the confidence. "You'd be able to find a better meal, and a better gentleman."