Even if Eileen wasn’t a siren, who had long ago grown accustomed to the head to toe lustful gaze, she would have still been able to read the look the blonde was giving. Much like the girl’s outfit, there was absolutely no subtlety to it. Had it been a man casting such glances, Eileen would not have hesitated in returning the non-verbal flirtation. When it came to women who paid interest in her, she tended not to encourage them – unless she was looking for some blood. Even when her mother was nowhere around, every time she told a girl that she wasn’t interested, Eileen could imagine Kiara shaking her head in disappointment. No matter how many decades passed, her mother would not believe that Eileen wouldn’t like sleeping with a woman if she tried it; her argument against that belief was that ‘how do you know you hate it if you’ve never tried it?’ only applied to vegetables and not sex – at least it did when you already knew what you were attracted to. Had she been able to find an open bar tonight, the siren would have likely spurred the blonde’s obvious advances in favor of something more preferable. But beggars can’t be choosers. And anyway, she was pretty sure that the girl’s blood could be worth something.
Up until now, Eileen had remained silent, basically ignoring everything the girl was saying. It all seemed to be small talk anyway. About the time she had decided to kill the blonde was when she tuned in and heard the compliment. Her blank face pulled up a smile that was more mischievous than it was menacing. Her hand came up to the collar of her raincoat; she toyed with the edges, pulling them farther apart to expose more of her dress underneath. “That sounds promising,” she said as she took a step toward the blonde, and even went so far as to bite her lip. Eileen supposed that if she had a “type” of woman that she went for, this girl would not be it. Even when it came to men, she typically preferred a classier sort. It was painfully clear to her that this girl didn’t have much money – because who in their right mind would dress that way if they did? – however, that didn’t mean that she couldn’t at least try to look like she wasn’t a prostitute. And that is why you’re bleeding her instead of sleeping with her. Eileen made mental note to test the blood later for any unseemly diseases. “Oh darling,” she said with a playful laugh in her voice. “I’m Irish. Any booze is the booze I’m looking for.” She reached out and toyed with the zipper on the gaudy, yellow jacket before giving it a slight tug downward. “Not that I mind being wet, but do you have a particular party in mind to take me to?” Now she was the one laying it on thick, but she doubt the blonde would mind.