The Belikov Manor

[MeloraBelikov]

Footsteps from behind them alarmed Melora. In the other half of the corridor, three more of the fucks made their presence known, ringing in their numbers at ten. Ten against....well, three and a half. Good enough.

Melora turned around, now facing Azura. Turning had given her enough room withing his arms to move a little more freely. There wasn't time for politeness, no asking him if he would kindly turn around, the three were already rushing them, thinking they had the upper-hand through surprise, and holding Melora Azura wouldn't be quick enough to react, even though he likely already knew they were there. Her left hand rose to his shoulder and in one swift motion she kicked up from the ground, wrapping her legs around his torso to steady herself. Somewhere in her mind she'd store this in order to remember to curse herself later for it, as he would probably be getting a few sexual ideas from it. Once she was steady she brought her hands together behind his head, pulling the trigger one...two...three...and four times. The first two shots brought the first attacker to the floor face first with a bullet lodged in both his guy and throat, the third found it's victim directly between the eyes, and the fourth was had to spot, but it hadn't killed the vampire it landed in. He had hissed in pain, dissipating into the shadows of the hall. Presumably because he was a giant pussy, Melora suspected.

Her legs, which had held her so steadily until now, finally gave out and she came crashing back into his arms, falling backwards and facing him. "Got 'em." She smiled weakly up at him, knowing she shouldn't have done that in her condition, but then, she shouldn't really be doing anything in her condition, and that was simply not an option. If Melora was going to fight, she was going to give it her all.

[AzuraGallu]

Azura was about to turn, igniting the hall behind him until Melora had done something entirely unexpected, but completely welcome.
Vaulting from the floor, she'd wrapped her legs snugly around his hips, pressing her torso against body only to wrap her arms around his neck to fire her gun. The mix of sexual tension, sexual positioning, blood, gore, and fighting had almost made him shiver. That and the sheer bad-assery she was showing had succeeded in at least exciting him, if nothing else.
Despite her clumsiness and bad attitude, she was fucking hot when she was presented with something she had to kill, and honestly, it was what he looked for in a woman.
Still, he'd rather drop her on the hardwood floor and not think about it.
Unfortunately, the likelihood of that option was about as good as having sex with her. Nada.
Figuring he still had some time to kill now that their pursuers had been disposed of, he focused on curbing the combustion of his fire. But distraction hit him again when Melora nearly fainted in his arms. He growled as her eyes fluttered, spotting the tell tale signs of someone losing consciousness.
"Dammit Melora!" he hissed. "Not the time! Wake the fuck up before I drop your ass and leave you here with Rima."
As if he'd be so cruel...Well, he could. But he wasn't about to do that to her. Sure he could drain her blood, knock her around a bit and make terrible jokes about her, but he wouldn't abandon her to the Blackraven's. Especially not when they were rather instrumental in her childhood catastrophe.
He had to think quickly on how he was going to compensate her dead weight. Though she hadn't passed out completely, she was going to, he could feel it in the laxness of her body. Placing an arm under one of her legs, the other reaching behind him to grab her opposite wrist, he hefted her onto his back in a piggy-back style carry. To brace her he clamped her thighs to his sides by looping his forearms beneath her knees.
"Do you feel stable?" he asked, not bothering to look behind him.

[MeloraBelikov]

Melora forced the blurriness from the edges of her vision, fending off an impending blackout on her part. This was not the time to be passing out, she still had work to do. When he picked her up and placed her on his back she was surprised, but this was exactly the view she would need to take out enemies from any side. No losing consciousness now, she decided. Now she would stand a much better chance. She leaned forward to speak to him. "Yes, thank you. Hold on tight and don't drop me, I'm staying awake for this one."

She set her sights on her next target in front of them, just past Anshel. He was quick, and Melora was having trouble keeping him in her aim. But steps behind them once more would require another change in plans. It was a limp step, the same vampire she'd just injured. Melora leaned back, focusing her strength in her core. Her back arched and her tiny flexable body was upside-down, aiming at the oncoming target. Two shots rang out and landed in his chest, sending him sprawled to the floor, writhing. She came back up to her place near Azura's shoulder, quickly fumbling to reload her gun. "Told you I'd wake up. I cant keep this up much longer though," she warned, knowing there were probably more than she could keep up with still coming.

[AzuraGallu]

"Don't worry, I've got you." Those were probably the nicest words he'd said to anyone during the heat of battle. Then again, this didn't feel like a battle to him. Something about it seemed too slow, too planned. It was methodical, as if someone were pulling strings.
He was impressed, but that bend must've made her insanely dizzy, and he was growing a bit miffed at her constant movement. She needed to stay still, for her health.
It was at that moment that he caught a Blackraven rushing them from the side. Striking out with startling precision, his claws digging so far into their assailant's face that they locked around his jawbone, and as Azura heaved, threw the vampire into the wall on his opposite side.
A resounding thud was heard against the wall, matching one as his skull bounced off the floor. The man's screaming echoed off the walls, tearing through the ragged scrap of flesh left flapping on his cheek.
What a baby.
Azura had to simply narrow his eyes on the weakling before he combusted into flames, body dancing on the floor as he tried to escape his own flesh.
Chuckling, thoroughly amused, he rolled his eyes at Melora.
"That's called adrenaline, stupid. You'll crash and burn faster than the Hindenburg when this is all over."
He'd had enough of sitting here, waiting for the Blackraven's to come to them. They needed to leave, at least, he and Melora did. She was only going to be trouble when she passed out, and it wasn't a matter of if, but when.
He backed up down the hall behind them, keeping his eyes trained forward, leaving Anshel to his devices. He was more than capable of handling the vampires before him.
Finding himself more comfortable away from the others, he sprinted down the corridor, trying to find, and smell a way out.
Lifting his head, he caught the faint whiff of fresh air, and headed that direction, but looked carefully at every door and alcove they passed, not about to be taken by surprise.

[MeloraBelikov]

"Azura..." she breathed his name heavily, feeling herself slipping again. The edges of her vision were darkening, and she had to shake her head to keep it from sweeping over her completely. A jolt of pain from her shoulders brought her upright, reminding her that she'd have to attend to that as soon as possible. She relaxed them as much as was comfortable, draping her arms over Azura's shoulders. "Go to the left. Straight from there. Avoid the kitchen to the left and continue straight. It goes to the back garden. I'll cover us. I have to have something to do to keep me awake." Her speech was low and winded now, more of a whisper than an audible sound. Melora mused to herself as she kept an eye out for any more possible attackers. Her mind spun with confusion about why they were here, who brought them, and why they were attacking so slowly. There was no frenzied and frantic battle, just on-coming attackers, almost as if they were meant to drive them away from that place rather than kill them. She found it stranger with each passing second.

[Doctor]

The damsels had fallen and five and a half supernatural enemies was pushing it already.

Azura was sprinting down the hall, Melora in tow and maybe they had the right idea, Anshel thought. With only one opponent now to face them, the mob had thrown whatever reservations to the wind and lunged towards him together, fangs bared and claws outstretched.

Too many. He pounded a fist into the face of one mid-air, but two had outflanked him, grabbing his right side and spinning him around, securing his hand behind himself with paired vampiric strength. Long teeth plunged into his bicep and tore out a fleshy chunk. The second was still behind him, scrambling to secure herself around his neck with her free arm, but before she could secure a handle he rolled back his head forcefully, his hair tossing back as sharp horns gouged something tender, as evidenced by her shriek. The third was coming to, picking himself off of the floor. There were too many. Groping behind him, past the pain from the oozing gap in his arm, he grabbed the jacket of his assailant and wrestled him off onto the ground. Another grabbed again for his neck but he ignored them in favor of crushing his foot onto the grounded man's knee and, with a hand firmly circling his other ankle, tore his leg clean off. The heavy leg swung high and around, smacking away the fourth one, leaving her just momentarily stunned. Too fucking many.

He knew when to cut his losses. With the leg carried in his good arm, Anshel turned and bolted down the corridor in chase of his two companions. He had neither the time nor the strength to drag along Ms. Donavon, and that he regretted. His massive feet pounded against the tile, crushing beneath it the glass and splintered wood. With a good distance between he and his pursuers he skidded to a halt. Kneeling down, he turned the leg upright, the gory cross-section of bone and flesh kissing the floor. With haste, he brushed the thick blood against the tile, painting two pentagrams, crimson against white.

"Let's see you handle that, fuckers!" He yelled behind him as he resumed his pursuit. Looking back, he saw his saviors arrive. Horned imps, lithe and wiry, black-skinned and black-horned crawled out from the portals of hell he'd drawn. They couldn't match a vampire's strength, but they were tenacious things that would at the least buy them time.

Anshel faced forward once more and took the only turn available, wondering where the fuck Azura could possibly be headed.

[AzuraGallu]

Azura, as instructed, veered left and paced himself slower than usual. He didn't want to make Melora sick by jostling her around too heavily. Puke on his suit was something he wasn't going to deal with well and was silently thankful it hadn't happened to him, though he'd seen the result a time or two.
Gross. Why did humans eat again?
Shaking his head, he continued on, hearing a sound as he passed the kitchen and was too late to block a blow from a very well aimed cleaver. It sunk into his flesh easily, right into the curve between his shoulder and neck, almost hitting Melora.
He grunted behind the force and pain from the throw, but reached up and jerked it out of his body regardless, letting it fall to the floor.
The culprit had another knife ready to go, but looked scrawny and untrained. Getting close would be easy if all the whelp could do was toss knives around.
What a stupid skill.
He crouched, setting Melora down, propping her against the wall before another knife zinged into his chest. Poor aim, it missed his heart. Jerking it out as well, he sprinted toward the Blackraven, crouching down before him, muscles bunching together just before he lunged up. He brought his claws to the party and tore up and through the vampire's chest cavity. He didn't bother feeling for a heart, knowing the pain was incapacitating enough.
Making his way back to Melora, he paused, bracing himself with the kitchen counter top as he let out a string of deep, violent coughs. Blood had smattered onto his hand when he pulled it away to look and he cursed loudly, wiping the fluid on his jacket. He hefted Melora into his arms once more, breaths ragged, and walked them into the garden.

[MeloraBelikov]

"Hey Azura, are you going to be okay?" Concern laced her accent, it wasn't something she was used to feeling for people. He was now as bloody as she was, both of them would likely have to dispose of their clothes, as they were ruined to the point of no return.

Before he could manage an answer to her, a voice called from directly behind them, standing in the doorway they'd just come from. "What exactly are you doing with my daughter?" The voice growled low, threatening, with an accent heavier than even her own. No, it wasn't possible. Melora's entire body began to shake at the voice.. It was a trick, it had to be. A cruel one at that.

Konstantin Belikov stood tall in the doorway, thin just like his daughter, with a thick head of dark brown hair, same as her own. His eyes were sunken in his pale face and brown, unlike hers, who were green after her mother's. His thin lips curled into a smile as he leaned in the doorway, revealing a set of very long, very sharp fangs. His suit was a fine dark navy one. "Мой сладостный цветок, look what they've done to you ребенок. What would Olessia say if she saw you this way. Azura of the Gallu, bring me my daughter, and I'll take care of her." In his mind, he shot Azura words in his voice. She'd make a fine vampire, would she not? His smile widened as he thought about it. With a fluid motion he stepped away from his place at the door and started towards them at a leisurely pace.

Melora couldn't bring herself to look. The Blackraven were surely messing with them, this was a trick. She couldn't say a word or move, she was just frozen, listening to this fake speak in her father's voice.

He was very much real.

[AzuraGallu]

Azura spun, setting Melora down behind him to block her from his view. He returned the man's smile with bared fangs, not in the mood for pleasantries.
"She'd make a terrible vampire. She's very clumsy and ill mannered, wouldn't last a day with our kind." He didn't like this guy one bit, and the fact that he said he was Melora's father...that nearly had him tossing her over the property's gate.
This man wasn't the same person she'd grown up loving, at least he hoped he wasn't. Though that might explain some of Melora's odd quirks. His sallow skin tone, the fangs...what had happened to this man?
"And I'd really appreciate it if you'd stop trying to corner me. I'm not a closed spaces kind of guy."
Reaching behind him, he caught Melora's hand, unsure of what to say to her, or what she thought of this situation.

[MeloraBelikov]

He came round with insane speed and caught her hand as well, picking her up from her feet and even off the ground. She fought him on the way up, kicking, his iron grip not letting her go. In mere milliseconds he was feet away again, this time opposite of the place he'd been before. Melora plopped to the ground again, her shoulder stinging and now her hand was red and angry, almost as if it had been burned. She looked up Azura, tears in her eyes and still unable to speak. She was still shaking, now sure that the man was in fact, her father.

Konstantin smiled once more, obviously enjoying his bonding time. "She can still be taught. She has potential, Azura. Just like you do to be a great leader." He laughed, a sound that was like deep bells chiming. "I never thought I would do well either. But look at me now," his eyes shifted to a smokey gray, the same way Rima's could. "I'm a natural at it. Melora could be too you know. Look at her, without this she is fragile, she looks like she could die any moment." His attention turned from him to Melora, gazing at her tenderly.

[AzuraGallu]

Azura curled his upper lip at the man, despite the compliment to his wonderful leader-like personality. He didn't need to be told things he already knew.
"She's weak because I made her that way. She's lacking blood, in case you couldn't tell vampire."
He'd been around Hunter's far too long, starting to notice the disdain in his voice as he spat the word. Then again, he wasn't overly fond of any vampires aside from those in his own clan.
Narrowing his eyes on him, he stood fast beside Melora.
"And you can have her when I'm dead."

[MeloraBelikov]

"Well at least I know my красивейше daughter is in good hands. Melora," He turned his attention to her, sitting in a pile of confusion next to Azura's feet. Her head snapped up and her eyes met his when he said her name. "You want to come with me, right princess? Tell your prince he'll have to wait his turn." He tilted his head to one side, cracking his neck, but not breaking eye contact with her for even a second.

His eyes freaked her out. They were cold and hollow, not the warm tone of brown her father once proudly displayed, they were dark now, dark enough to be mistaken for black. He spoke to her with honey coated words, coaxing her to join him. As a vampire. With that thought, now knowing that her father, supposedly killed by vampires, was a vampire himself, she snapped. The strength returned to her body and in seconds she had jumped the man and slammed him to the ground, hands fastened around his neck.

He hit the pavement hard, a pool of blood formed beneath his head but he still laughed, no longer like the sound of bells, but this time sickening, like the laugh of a man who had gone mad. Taking hold of one of her wrists he flipped her over, holding her to the ground with his weight. She kept one hand on his neck, which he didn't seem to mind too much, despite how hard she was squeezing it, trying to put him where he'd supposedly been all this time, in the afterlife. Konstantin squeezed her wrist in turn, and after a matter of seconds a sickening crack of breaking bone split through the courtyard. Melora ignored the pain. Fuck the pain. She continued to claw at his throat, tightening her grip until finally, he reacted. He drug her hand from his neck and pinned it next to her head, drops of his blood fell on her face from the deep scratches she'd left on his neck. His blood fell cold on her cheeks, ice cold.

[AzuraGallu]

Blinking, trying to clear his eyes of the illusion he must have surely just seen pass before him, Azura's mouth hung open. Had she just-? And how did she-?
His little Hunter just kept becoming more and more attractive to his acerbic, violent, and cocky personality.
He wasted no time springing into action once he'd realized she's made a decision. She was out for blood, then so was he. However, the aching pain he felt in his chest was bothering him. Had that second knife actually hit something vital? Well, he wasn't dead yet. Yet being the operative word.
Ignoring the desire to be ginger with himself he careened forward, swiping his claws along the man's forearm to make him lose his grip. He was steadfast, that was until another precise hit laid open his ulnar and radial arteries. A large gash did the job as the Blackraven's blood spilled out of his arm at a horrendous rate, the volume causing Azura to wet his lips in anticipation.
He paused, fixated on the blood for a long moment until he was pounced on. Cursing his terrible judgement, he kicked out both legs, dislodging him and sending him a few feet backward where he landed in a crouch.
His movements were eerily graceful for a young vampire. Most of the time, especially after just being turned, a new vampires limbs would have trouble adjusting to their new range of movement, often causing them to appear jerky. It was a great way to spot a potential meal as well, more so if you wanted to keep unaffiliated vampire numbers down. In fact, it was a tactic his father had often used in the town just outside the castle.
Azura rolled onto the balls of his feet, ready to spring again if necessary, but the look in her father's eyes said that he wasn't serious by a long shot. Which was a huge problem. Standing, it was as if watching a doll pop its own joints back into place, fanged smile finishing off the look in a halo of absolute eeriness.
Without another word he vanished, utilizing his natural speed and leaving the young Gallian King thoroughly confused. Mind games were just something he didn't understand. If you were angry with someone, you hit them, if you wanted to kill them, you did. There was no room for subtlety or tact unless you were in a political arena.
He supposed this was fast becoming untrue, and that he better learn how the Blackraven's did things before everyone was in trouble.
Turning to Melora, he made his way to her, examining her wrist, but not touching the actual break. It was bad enough to see through her skin and she looked far worse now than before.
The steady ache came back, and he lifted a hand to rub at the hole in his chest curiously. What was this pain he was feeling? Usually he healed in no time.
Shaking his head, he focused on what was more important. "You dead?" he asked her, looking at her with an assessing set of golden eyes.

[MeloraBelikov]

"Should be." Her voice was tiny, unfeeling, and cold. Her head spun and she felt her sight start to go black, and she didn't really have the heart to stop it anymore. There was an ache in her wrist that shot up her arm, however, which brought her back from nearly blacking out for about the 20th time. Couldn't she just pass out already? Jesus.

Melora used her good wrist to wipe blood away from her face. It probably just trailed across her face now, but she could care less about her appearance at this point, as she was fairly sure she looked like she'd just come back from dying in a horrific freak accident anyway. She was already covered in blood, a little more on her face couldn't really hurt.

A few seconds of silence passed between them, a golden silence, the type that indicated that they were no longer in danger of being killed, threatened, or punked by people who were supposed to be dead.

"...did that really just happen?"

[AzuraGallu]

"Yeah. It did. Sounds like Anshel took care of the rest of them." he winced, clutching his chest again.
"What the fuck?"
He coughed, blood coming up once more when it shouldn't have. Azura had been wounded hundreds, probably thousands of times in his life, most fatal to humans. But not once, not once had his body had difficulties healing itself.
Just to make sure he wasn't going crazy, he growled, tearing off his jacket and then his shirt to get a better look at what was going on. Both wounds were still fresh, the first looking as if it'd just happened seconds ago. Even blood still dribbled out of the hacked skin and muscle. But his main concern was the direct plunge the second knife had taken into his chest. That was where he hurt.
Bringing his fingers up to prod the flesh, he was greeted with an incredible burning sensation and the desire to tear off his own skin before the invisible, imaginary flames consumed him.
Then it hit him. He needed to find that knife.