"Ain't bleedin' yet," he murmured, tongue flicking out again to wet those dry lips of his. "But if ya want to do some raking yourself, I wouldn' be adverse ta it."
Visions of her clawing at his back danced in his head. Both of them.
"Dere a fair share o' dose who call demselves psychics down dere... but only a few dat real. Dey take care o' de ally rats..."
He leaned forward to whisper, voice low and inviting, and let his breath tickle the skin of her cheek, "...us ally rats we take real good care o' dem."