"Scrying," Horst echoes him. There are some people who can muster the wherewithal to not take issue with minor details in a story that's being presented to them, people who can manage to put aside their quibbles on minor issues to focus on the task at hand, and save their remonstrations for later.

Horst, unfortunately for his brother, is not someone who has ever seemed to put off till tomorrow what can be chided about today.

"And you wonder why you're still sick. Well, I hope you're happy with yourself."

In this case, of course, the matter hits home a little more closely than it might otherwise. Here Horst has been, starving himself out of concern for his brother's ability to recover from his sickness, growing paler and hungrier each day from the inability to get blood from his usual source, and instead Johannes has been squandering it on sneaking around while Horst sleeps, playing some little game with Jason Blood's demon. Horst takes this somewhat personally.

"Tell me what I can do," he insists. "You're obviously in no state to confront this thing yourself, regardless of your newfound change of heart."