Mariella stared at him for a moment, her eyes drawn to the blood on his face and unconsciously she licked her lips.
“No, He hasn’t yet had the courtesy to be on time.” She said, shaking her head to rid herself of the blood lust, trying to remind herself of how werewolves fed. That imagine always turned her stomach and put her off feeding again for at least a little while. “Lord Granville was telling me about the body, or at least what was left of it, from that awful attack. His friend doesn’t think werewolves did it.” She didn’t need to say that her thoughts were the opposite. It was clear from her tone and written all over her face.