Irvine lurches a little, but maintains his balance. He's still impressed with the abilities on display here, but he's starting to get impatient. He'd hoped this would be a reasonably speedy affair where he could turn Greg and get on with his evening, and all these delays are beginning to annoy him a little.

Jamie, meanwhile, has lost virtually all control over himself. He's being compelled equally strongly by his sire's orders and the imperative to feed, and he's out of his mind with bloodlust, scrabbling at the shield with his claws, snapping and snarling while bloody spume sprays from his jaws. He's utterly mindless, but he might be a sufficient distraction.

While Jamie goes berserk on one side, Irvine bolts behind to Steven's unprotected back, where he squares up, draws back one booted foot, and swings at the boy's spine.