Though he was surprised to have Vlad so readily agree, he didn't let it show on his face. There was no victory in his heart, just foreboding in his chest. Theresa was a proud woman, and seeing her helpless would have been profoundly unsettling without the surge of genuine concern.
And seeing Vlad without his usual self possession was oddly frightening in and of itself.
Taking her still form from Vlad, he yelled at someone until they cleared a table, on which he set her down gently. His eyes flickered up and down her body as he checked her pulse, her breathing--though every few seconds he would yank his head back up to look at Kane and Vlad. He was still close enough to hear, and was desperate to understand the night's events.
He examined her clothing as he monitored the conversation, trying to figure out if there was something to loosen to help her regain consciousness--but her breathing seemed fine...