Grigori was free of his bound monotony and he was enjoying it. This week was freeing. Currently, the shadows followed him wherever he so desired to lurk. He was in the lobby when Peri had appeared. Ever since he'd been hovering close enough for her to know something was wrong and he was reveling in her distress.
Ever quietly as if from very far away, he began to hum an old Italian nursery rhyme. He hated children but even he knew that music or sound which had no visible origin which it was emanating from was fairly terrifying to most of these modern mongrels.