Over the years, countless movies have tried to tell him that vampires are sexy and that people enjoy being bitten by them. And Tony appreciates a good bite now and again, he can’t deny it. But he’s never believed that being bitten by something that intends to drink blood is a good thing. No one likes mosquitoes. No one likes ticks or leeches. No one actually wants to meet a zombie, though everyone seems to enjoy movies and video games that let the gun-inept shoot them. No one likes going to the doctor and having blood drawn. So why anyone would enjoy a vampire bite is beyond him.

He may be hungry. He may be starving in a way he never has before and his veins may feel thick and scratchy and too tight in his body. But he doesn’t want to drink Ned’s blood. He doesn’t want to drink anyone’s blood. Humans don’t drink blood, and he’s been a human too long to easily succumb to this.

The garden gnome’s right. He should go. Just like he should not have to drink blood to sate the hunger. But he can’t go. The smell of Ned’s blood holds him rooted to the spot and all of the demands that his muscles obey him go unanswered. It leaves him with the most idiotic of undignified suggestions. Unfortunately for his dignity, it’s the only one they have.

“Do it.” It’s strong, whatever it is. Even if it had used its full strength on him, it’s still strong enough to get him a little further away, and a little further might be all he needs to get himself back under control again. “Hard as you can. Do it.”