"You know nothing." Grigore spat, the hairs on the back of his neck prickled and stood on end. He was determined to fight whatever it was that Greg was doing to him, and so far he had been successful. He knew that to attack the boy was to submit to his wishes, and that was absolutely unacceptable. He found, much to his chagrin, that his hands were trembling something awful. The Berserker mentality prodded at his consciousness, he wanted to let go, let loose, wail blows upon Greg until the young vampire was nothing more than a puddle of quivering gore. Unacceptable. Grigore continued to pace until his back was towards the door. "You are a child, an infant." He murmured, taking several steps back.
His next move was cowardly, and he knew it, but he didn't care. In a marvelous display of vampire quick-footedness, he darted back and flung the door open, and disappeared behind it just as quickly. Five minutes passed. There was shouting behind the door and it opened again a minute later. Tomas and Yosef were both flung through the doorway, and the door snapped shut behind them after half a second. Grimacing, Grigore turned his back to the door, trying not to feel at all gleeful at the prospect of what Greg might do to his former tormentors. Hopefully they would take enough energy out of Greg before they were slaughtered so that Grigore could collect the young vampire, bring him into normal society, or at least clean him up a bit for his date with Dante Archer.