Lestat was not a stranger to feeling watched. He revelled in it, by nature. He'd designed a life around it, and then a rock band around it, and then the Coven of the Articulate. Certainly, there were pairs of eyes that did not belong to the woman he assumed was a very powerful witch, if not more than that... but the gaze he felt most keenly was hers.
He tilted his head slightly, downward toward Veronica. "Tell me, ma chere," he began. "Do you know the woman we were speaking to before we began to dance?"
She shook her head, making a mental note to Google 'Talamasca.' "I've seen her before, I think. I can't really tell, with the mask." A pause. "I wonder why we didn't get masks."
Lestat squeezed her hand to draw her attention to his hand. "A ring instead. I think you as well," he said, admiring the emerald on her hand. He laughed, and the laugh was the kind that would dance down the spines of mortals. "Such interesting party favors."
Veronica got a chill. There was something... off... about this guy. And when he laughed... were those... fangs? Veronica's eyes went slightly too wide. "I didn't get your name," she managed. It was kind of a squeak.