"Names are unimportant things. You can call me whatever you like," Charity said, turning in towards him breathing in against his throat, taking in the scent of him. The men and women she'd touched since changing smelled like blood and bone and while it was nice, this was a richer thing, fuller, deeper, darker. Was this what she was hungering for? That headiness of sulfur and ash and things she couldn't yet place?
Her voice was low against his throat. "You smell good." The words were predatory and dangerous, forming themselves deep in her throat in ways she hadn't been aware her voice could even sound.