One of the things Eames hates most about vampires, is how there's no hiding some things from them. He knows that the trio around him are completely aware of the note of panic that rises in him at Harris' 'offer,' the sharp inhale and the way his pulse spikes. It's a knowledge that only serves to fuel how unbelievably angry he is in this moment.
He struggles — against the guard, against Jean-Claude — but it's largely for show, more like a flinch as a show of defiance than anything he'd expect to help him get free. Eames doesn't take his eyes off Harris, even when Jean-Claude steps in close and tilts his head, his gaze is fixed on the Little man. Lips parted a moment as if he has something to say, but then Jean-Claude bites him and Eames clenches his jaw with a pained grunt, though he refuses to make more noise than that. One must consider his pride, after all.
"Too scared to try your own meal, huh?" Eames's voice is low, obviously pained, but quiet while Jean-Claude drinks from him, so only those of them on stage can hear. "Worried I might be poisoned? Or are you just that pathetic you need someone else to weaken me first?"
Goading? Absolutely. Even as Jean-Claude takes hold of him, (and Eames slowly, very slowly, tries to slip something out of Jean-Claude's trousers and into his hands. It's hard to use his magic in this state, but he can do it,) even with the stinging, open wounds on his neck and the rivulets of blood falling down his neck, there's something smug in Eames' expression. Like he's seen a joke no one else has, and it's on Harris' face. He needs to be absolutely certain that Harris will go for it, and he's seen the man's ego in action.
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He struggles — against the guard, against Jean-Claude — but it's largely for show, more like a flinch as a show of defiance than anything he'd expect to help him get free. Eames doesn't take his eyes off Harris, even when Jean-Claude steps in close and tilts his head, his gaze is fixed on the Little man. Lips parted a moment as if he has something to say, but then Jean-Claude bites him and Eames clenches his jaw with a pained grunt, though he refuses to make more noise than that. One must consider his pride, after all.
"Too scared to try your own meal, huh?" Eames's voice is low, obviously pained, but quiet while Jean-Claude drinks from him, so only those of them on stage can hear. "Worried I might be poisoned? Or are you just that pathetic you need someone else to weaken me first?"
Goading? Absolutely. Even as Jean-Claude takes hold of him, (and Eames slowly, very slowly, tries to slip something out of Jean-Claude's trousers and into his hands. It's hard to use his magic in this state, but he can do it,) even with the stinging, open wounds on his neck and the rivulets of blood falling down his neck, there's something smug in Eames' expression. Like he's seen a joke no one else has, and it's on Harris' face. He needs to be absolutely certain that Harris will go for it, and he's seen the man's ego in action.