The Ventrue in question, if it was the same guy, was one Rhys had felt the strong urge to stay away from. He'd only met him for a few moments at the blood party but it had been enough for him. Of course, the Prince hadn't helped with that feeling either. At this point, he felt like it would be very difficult to find just one person of that clan that was nice. Or not so intimidating. Luckily that hadn't been the clan he'd been embraced into - with the same circumstances, he'd probably be dead two seconds after Henry disappeared.
"Fresh is better than cold." It was said in a almost off hand way, his eyes once more drawn to his fingers as he tried laying them out flat instead of a jumbled mess. The last two times he'd fed, it had felt like fire rolling through him.
Mab and the rest had taught him that some blood would just taste better, depending. So far, there was little difference to him, but maybe he couldn't taste it yet.