"Always. And from our end, as long as the blood is there, it doesn't change." Even if they wanted to. Even if they fought against it. If he had never been sent to New York on his own—Julian brushed the thought aside.
And then he gave a laugh. "You have no idea. It can be the same for us, answering things that we don't know if they were asked out loud or something we picked up because we're not always sure." And writing on the walls, well, Julian wondered how she was going to do when faced with a full-on Malkavian rage. He knew out of the three of them that he and Connie were the worst when it came to such things.
Julian grinned because of course he wasn't wrong. "See, all that racket in my mind. Telling me things even when I try not to." He gave a shrug because what was a Malk to do. Easy right now in his case. "The whole stamina thing is pretty nice as well. After a while, you just stop thinking." Which was part of the appeal to him. He just had to hand himself over and let his brain shut down. It was no wonder it worked to ground him.