Honestly he'd forgotten how much iron burns. Pain is something Eames can handle, perhaps not always gracefully, but he can manage it. This however? The worst part isn't the pain itself, but the constant nature of it. The way it's impossible to be less than fully aware of it the whole time it touches him.

(Should've worn long sleeves, a part of him jokes, and Eames huffs an amused noise at seemingly nothing in particular.)

Eames looks up at Evie when she comes in, seemingly not at all pleased to see her, but his expression falls to something strained but still friendly when it's just the two of them. Groaning in the momentary relief of having his cuffs undone, and hissing slightly once they're redone. Not that he doesn't appreciate it, but it still hurts like a bitch.

"Good as can be expected," Eames says with an amused lilt, voice pitched low so it won't carry through the door, choosing to ignore the way her fangs are out. He wouldn't ally himself with a vampire he didn't trust to control themself. "Kind of funny, they really believe I'm not a threat like this."