Maybe a dog. Pain flared in silver eyes, but Alex's jaw hardened, Lestat snarling inside his chest, ready and waiting to rip loose and get away from here.
But...it was Rick. Rick was still in there somewhere. He hoped.
He took a step back, swallowing. He couldn't hurt Rick. Not...not ever.
"Let me go, Azza," he said again, trying to make his voice strong; but it came out too weak, more like a plea than an order, and Alex knew he was sending all the wrong signals, prey instead of predator, letting Azza mess with him, but he didn't know what else to do.
And then Lestat gave him a jolt, and he bared his fangs, knuckles whitening on the strap of his rucksack. "Back off, Azza. Let me through."