-Em- I catch Alexei as he crashes to his knees, groaning in pained Russian. His abdomen is wet with blood soaking his dress-shirt. He's about 40, but fit, and since the Awakening, his eyes are as green as radium, his pupils cat-like. I'm only 20 but we bumped into each other on the run. He's from Russia, with a thick accent. I am not. "You're bleeding, Lexei." I say gently.