They were at Joey's, celebrating with some champagne Martin had picked up. Martin had offered Joey a job at the Gilded Lily, helping to oversee the business of the club; Joey had naturally accepted. Martin actually found himself in good humor, enjoying the night. He had a title, he had some money coming in, and now he had a mortal baited like a worm. Soon, he would introduce Joey to the Blood, make him a thrall. Soon, but not tonight. Tonight was for celebration.
Celebration, and champagne, and later some feeding. Martin was afraid of drinking too much from Joey—he'd heard stories of favored vessels becoming anemic or dying suspiciously—so he wasn't going to take much. On the bright side, Joey had a roommate, Trevor. Trev didn't seem to like Martin much but he'd gladly had some of the champagne. The Lord didn't mind; the taste of spite was something that was familiar to him, and tasting it in Trevor's veins would feel like a homecoming.
He let them drink; he laughed and joked; and later, he would make them sleep, and he satisfy himself.