John looked at Sherlock and nodded. "Yes. But if you and Greg are here. I'll be safe." He smiled at Sherlock before closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.

The blonde settled down lotus style, his palms resting facing up on his knees. He began to whisper, just under his breath, a language that was long dead. But the words still carried immense power. He spoke, low pulses of power extending out and across London.

Greg looked at Sherlock. "Shall I stand guard downstairs?"