He had been trapped in the head of this piece of trailer trash for many days - the taste of blood almost sent him into a frenzy. Eric's hunger was a throbbing, aching desire in the background as he watched the scene play out before his eyes. When he finally manages to rein it in, he only grins at the rather naughty vision. He thought it was a memory - someone else's memory - but he did not know why.
Dante was too lost in his confusion to be able to coherently respond to Eric's question. Did he recognise the person whose memory it belonged to? He caught a glimpse of himself in the rear view mirror, but that was long enough for Eric to commit the face to both their minds.
The blood from Dante's finger was just a taste. He needed more. He needed more but this was not his body - witchcraft again? - and he got up only to sit back down again when another one hit.