With an irritated puff of her cigar, Integra made her way to her chair. Have tea, he said, as if this tea would be good for her English standards. A skeleton maid poured Earl Grey into her cup before she scurried away from the knight’s glare. She had learned to ignore the fountain of blood, it was absolutely tacky. Best to not ask about how it never ran out from supplies.
Her expression softened slightly when Buffy entered. The blond vampire with an eighties fashion style that stepped next to her must be her undead lover.
“You are welcome, Buffy. However, this isn’t my home, Cronqvist should be thanked for playing host,” she replied, picking up her teacup to give it a sip. The tea did not taste foul, but it certainly needed some improvements. Spike’s question made her pause. Was there ever any doubt it was human blood? “What else could be? It isn’t fresh, is it?” It was her turn to flash Matthias a Look.