Alastair leaned in to catch the words and then grinned, pressing the knife into her side enough to draw blood, but not yet make a gaping wound. With the demon knife and no way currently to heal his victims, not until he had one of the two Claires in his possession again, patience was required in doing this, as was moderation. Sadly.
"A little something I cooked up that is working out very well for me," he said, drawing the knife lightly up her side, the line of blood getting longer. "But not so well for you, is it? It means we'll have ourselves a real fun time while you're here."
After a moment, he smiled wider, even the surfaces of her mind already proving to be a good read, figuratively speaking. Sam was uppermost, even above her tainted angel. If he hadn't been in such control of the pediatrician, he might have been a little ill at the thought.
"Poor Sammy. No little demon bitch to hold his hand. Whatever will he do without you?" He tsked. "Likely get himself killed before even I get his location out of you, and well, that's saying something since I'm just. About. There."
With each word, Alastair dug further into her mind.