The sound had been quickly bitten off, smothered as fast as he could manage it. When the crash of pottery came he looked to the kitchen, listening to Will swear, and winced a little.
He looked back at Warren, eyes darting in a way they never had before, taking his measure. When he made the comment about the mess, Severin smiled a little. "Damned horrible things," he said, mimicking the intonation he had used when he'd said it, because he liked the way that sounded, adult and serious and very Warren. Then again...had Warren said it?
Before he could dwell too long on that Will was back in the room, and it wasn't until he had his hand on his back that he remembered why he'd screamed in the first place, realized he was shaking. Will wanted to comfort him, but his thoughts were spikes of concern tinged with exhaustion. "They were angry," he said, looking at Warren but not looking at him, eyes far off. "I left, and they were angry. No one caught them," he said, and he turned to Will. "The possibilities are infinite. They could be here today, tomorrow, outside the door and they - the things -"