Pam would, indeed, have a few ideas of what would suit Pastor John Tudor. She might have some plans for him already, even though she had not seen her brother yet. Eric had to wonder what trouble the two of them might get into in a place like this. He hoped a lot.
The tender side of Eric rose up at John's words, that he would not be an embarrassment. He turned to the newborn and leaned close, his hand lifting to gingerly stroke the other man's cheek. Even if the pastor wasn't comfortable with male on male contact like this, he would get used to it after a time. Vampires ceased to see gender.
"John." Eric said, low. "If I had thought that you would embarrass me in any way, I would not have given you my blood. I have made only two of you in my long lifetime, I don't wade into things hastily. It might have seemed like it, the way that you were turned. You are my progeny. You have the blood of vikings running through you. You are strong because you are only my second, you are strong because of my age, and you are strong because that is who you are."
He stood back up. "That said, it pleases me that you are so loyal and ready to do me honor. It's everything a man could wish for in a son."
Eric looked back at what was once Fangtasia. Purgatory. That seemed more fitting. "You're of course welcome to bring whatever you like to the castle. It's your home."