adjusts his cuffs, his voice low and measured Then stand back. She will be disoriented. Hungry.

leans against the crypt wall, arms crossed, a crooked grin on his face Hungry. So she’ll be herself, then.

whispers, leaning forward She’s so pale. Is she always this pale?

quietly She’s always this pale.

a sharp intake of breath from the coffin

steps closer places her hand over Claire’s chest Her heart is quickening.

to the others Wine. We will need wine.