The night the teeth come out enough so that Billy can't avoid touching them with the tip of his tongue every few minutes is the longest night he spends inside his flat. Confusing, really, to feel and crave and think differently yet not differently about everything. Things seem to be the same, just switched round and relabeled in his head. He takes it calmly enough, as calmly as he's had to deal with everything in his life. At the very last minute he gets dressed and takes to the streets just around his block.

The hunger is like the activation of something threaded through him, previously dormant and now alive, something all at once in the pit of his bones and dancing feather-light across his skin. He wields a power over it that he supposes that not all his kind can wield, and he briefly wonders why. In the end it doesn't matter, particularly when it's put up against the surge in his body, the desire for just that thing he needs to slate his hunger.

While pondering the need to kill or just injure in this nighttime activity, his mind floats to Dominic's address.