Grigore snarled very vocally and, instead of dodging Greg's blows, he lunged forward, taking the strikes in stride. He enveloped Greg in a crushing embrace and lowered his head to sink his fangs into the flesh of the boy's shoulder. He noted, pleased, that Greg's skin was not nearly as soft and pliant as it had been before his turning. He growled as he drank, hissed, and pulled Greg down to the floor with him.