He was slightly confused- why'd she blush? If he were indeed a vampire, and she were one as well, then shouldn't she have such a control from decades or centuries that any emotion besides what she wanted shown would be impossible to discern? But either way, she didn't have the look of someone who just let it slip- it appeared genuine. Shortly after the confusion, he felt embarrassment. A compliment was a compliment regardless of its way of convey, unless it were said mocking or similar to. He filed away her response for future reference; gaining any knowledge he could about his captors, compatriots, or companions, depending on how the day turned out, may prove invaluable in the future. 

He still eyed the others with no small amount of distrust, but was relaxed by a surge of strength brought by the blood. He recognized the lady- Evelyn De Winters, she so said- and the Korean to be older vampires, possibly ancient, though that was aimed more towards De Winters. She appeared more the proper lady that was more common in the times before aircraft and steam engines than after. Odd; he retained all knowledge, but any amount of searching his brain for memory came up short. He pushed it aside; he could deal with it later, when he was alone. 

He filed away Anrah, too- she looked like him. Newborn, fledgling, new. He wondered how many others, but couldn't bring himself to ask. He eyed her more so than the other two; she was likely to become closer to him than the older ones, due to similarities. He wasn't sure, but he didn't quite trust her as much as De Winters, nor the Korean. He racked his brain again, but only came up with vague, racist impressions from people around him, in some unknown day and place, and modern-day actions taken by... North Korea. No, the proper lady who blushed at a compliment was more likely to be trustful, in his opinion, though he wished it were not so. He figured his reasons for not trusting the other two- as much- were racist, but couldn't bring himself to change anything. Besides- she brought the blood.

That thought made his nose wrinkle- human blood. Someone else, a different DNA, was inside his veins now. It made himself feel sick, and he warily cast a glance about, searching for something in case he might need it. Finding nothing but cups, floor, walls, ceiling, and people, he resigned himself to forcing repulsion down. This was his existence; he must deal with it. 

"Ms. De Winters... that would be nice, I think." He paused, unsure of himself. "Yeah; my name is William... I think. I would say that I'm... sated, for now. How familiar it is; I am dead, and yet I feel little different." He raised a hand, staring at it, and taking note of the paleness. He was... Peruvian ancestry, he thought. Darker skinned, regardless of how much sun struck his skin, and yet... now he wasn't. He felt a wrenching bolt of unease at that- it was as if his past had been completely taken from him. Even his skin.

Instead, he shifted uncomfortably, and spun around, inspecting the room. He went so far as to approach the walls and wood, feeling them to take into account how authentic it was; if this were a prank or not.

He was sad to realize that they felt very real.