Rakitin glanced at Nika. Hung over or not, there was no reason to throw salt in the wound of a potential source.

Suggesting Polya as the one of them who dealt with the living. Oh, that was not a good sign.

It had been a bad night for all involved.

Considerably so for Liadov, if he was irked by an angry youth. The Ocelot hadn't tried to bite either of them. Ippolit considered that a sign of goodwill.

As the boy took on a reddish tinge, he resembled a small arctic fox baring its teeth. Ippolit felt an old compunction to grasp the boy carefully by the back of the neck, tag his ear, and release him back into the wild.

"Do you have something to tell us?" Rakitin said, leaning forward slightly.