The Brucolac dropped back, leaned back against the wall, silent, watching; out of his depth, but staring after the children with a taut, nervous expression. His tongue darted in and out of his mouth. He watched with an anxious tenderness, feeling entirely helpless.

Stepping forwards, he put his hand to Alyosha's shoulder. "Blood," he muttered, looking briefly to the older woman. "They're quick, not, ah...of my condition, but they...I suspect it may help." He wet his lips. Added, "Mind Ishtar's teeth. Fangs fit to break skin already."