Pam's body heat may never even reach room temperature, but she's definitely not as ice cold to the touch as she was when she began to feed. And she is feeling a lot better, her senses clearer again, the pain of healing dwindling and eventually fading altogether.

But Jemma just tastes so damned sweet.

And it almost seems as if Pam might be ignoring Eric, since she doesn't stop right away. It's like telling a child she can't have any more candy.

But with a soft moan that's almost a petulant whimper, she does stop. She pulls her mouth away from Jemma's wrist and licks her lips, previously pale without her usual lipstick, now stained red with blood.