No immediate danger from the death of Armand's choice of puppet, a man who Louis would have happily taken apart solely for the way he spoke to and thought of Daniel. Safe too, from the very public spectacle of the near-kidnapping of the Met.

Louis ticks these things off as his body angles by degrees towards Mark, eyes moving over his face. Studying. Catching the strange scent of him, mortal and something other.

"What has he done to deserve being eaten?" Louis questions, attention divided between the unfolding of a bit and the witch with whom they will apparently be traveling.