Holmes notices the stare, but doesn't move his hand.
"Yes, so do I, but we've had quite enough," Holmes tells him briskly. "We'll spoil our dinners." Trying for more distraction: "And as I recall, the Count had exquisite manners."
Holmes nods, suppressing a smile. Good! If Spike is capable of refusing blood, he's calming. He notes with great interest the changing of Spike's face. He must ask if he can take x-rays. There is a screeching of tyres and an elegant looking limousine tears around the corner and jolts to a stop at the kerb. Holmes opens the door. "Here we are. Just get in and we'll soon have you set to rights." He peeks in and notices the partition is up. He gives a sigh of relief. It wouldn't do to have the driver become dinner for Spike.