"Haven't been snacking on anything. Bloody starving. Why d'you think I went for you?" Spike extracted a hand from beneath his coat and rubbed his face wearily. "'m not normally that desperate that I'd go up against a gun just for a meal."
He paused, studying Dean. Maybe it wasn't what had been done to him but what the guy was. Maybe not the Initiative after all. "What are you?" he demanded. Some kind of telepath demon who caused pain in your head as a weapon?