Vasquez looks at the way he's running his finger down his arm, not flinching away for either the pain or the forwardness. "Most men who touch me like this don't want to eat my soul, they usually have other things in mind," he says bluntly, seeing as there's no romance when it comes to a quick fuck in a barn.

He gives Leo a dubious look, because, "And, who says my soul will be anything for you to enjoy? After all, I've murdered. Doesn't that taint it?"