Blood
She had never really known what blood tasted like. Not the cloned "blood", which was not really blood at all, not to her. It was cold and tasted metallic, the sensation accompanying it similar to something she had remembered from before her death (birth) as "medicine".
Some vampires had still sought out human blood, despite the strict laws against such activities, because they insisted that human blood was a delicacy of most indescribable proportions.
But when she had bitten Michael, stricken from the silver that was so deadly to his lycan form, his blood was still mostly human. It had tasted full of something she couldn't quite describe, at least, not until she had asked Michael what it was.
Life.