[Ianchus is normally acutely aware of other peoples' emotions, other peoples' boundaries, but he's too angry, the yelling from behind him drilling into his mind (it's getting fainter, but he doesn't realize that, not with his rage throttling him).

He laughs at the words, kneeling so that now he's almost imploring.]

Oh, I will. I will.

[He let goes of Jezebel's cheek to tangle his fingers in his own hair, gripping it.]

This is hell, isn't it. I will, but I'll make them regret it.

[His next laugh sounds like a cough.]