Something hammered mercilessly against the walls of his being, which threatened to collapse under the impressions. But his mind, his will to live, fought against it, and at that moment, it was literally a matter of his life. A flame of life could go out quickly... far too quickly.
'Kaye...'
In front of him, he suddenly saw the life in his brother's golden eyes extinguish, and a cold bucket poured over his faltering thoughts.
'NO!' The memory of his brother dying in the dirt activated his hidden reserves of strength and forced him to act. His fighting instincts and his will to survive broke through the confusing impressions that he had neither the time nor the will to interpret at the moment.
They triumphed over the howling of his instincts as the black, bloodied paw struck. A muffled sound rang out as the blow knocked the ribcage under her outstretched arm. It was a blow that could have caused dangerous wounds if the long daggers of its claws had reached her lungs. But the curved claws remained retracted into his paw's soft, furry pads. The blow left no wound, but the force was enough to tear the body from him and fling it some distance away.
The blood hunter, who went by the name of Myra, fell off him, rolled over once, and then rolled away skilfully, as you would expect from a hunter of her trade. A tingling in the back of his neck warned him, wanted to draw his attention to her, because she was a dangerous, indeed threatening enemy. But his eyes did not follow her, even though he wanted to.
Instead, he rolled over, got to his feet quickly, and his claws extended to find a foothold. Crunching, they scraped across the ground, ready to pounce ... when another movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention.
He pulled his paws under his wiry body and threw himself to the left just in time. This put even more distance between himself and 'Myra' while small stones and dust swirled up.
The loudmouth, who called himself a bloodhunter, let out an angry, frustrated growl. With a contorted grimace, he crouched where Zane had just been lying while the true Slayer behind him turned her gaze back to Zane.
He could see her pupils constrict as she fixed him like a predator on its prey. It seemed as if she, too, had left the strange moment behind and shaken off the sticky threads. She was ready to hunt him down again, the hesitation gone, and neither of them could hope for a moment like this again.
'Damn!'
The situation couldn't have been shittier!
Ears lay flat against his head, and wrinkles creased around his lips as he raised them threateningly and wrinkled his nose. The fur on the back of his neck bristled, making his vast body look even bigger. Ivory-white teeth flashed in the dull moonlight as he bared them menacingly but, at the same time, took a step back.
The growl from his throat echoed off the alley's walls as his tail whipped wildly through the air. Everything about his stance was menacing as his eyes searched for a way out.
Only an idiot would mess with a bloodhunter and her half-breed offspring. Casimir would be no problem. He would have torn him to pieces long ago, and now he was annoyed at his mercy because he would have taken an enemy out of the way. It couldn't be helped. The fact was: THEY, and especially both of them together, were a dangerous, perhaps even deadly alliance that he didn't want to face, no matter how much his blood burned for the fight.
His gaze slid over the half-collapsed wall and up to the craggy rooftops. Vampires were fast... But they couldn't jump as far as he could. The rooftops... he could outrun them. Eyes narrowed and growling, his paws were already starting to work while his mind lagged.
"What are you waiting for?" he heard the light voice. It had the disturbingly calm tone he recognized from the older undead. They usually sounded as if the many years of life had slowly but surely worn away every emotion from them like a current on a stone.
But this time, there was a little hint of something in her voice. A slight vibration in her tones made the black silk flow not quite so smooth. But neither he nor Casimir had time to care at that moment. As quickly as it struck him, it was already over, like a brief reflection in a mirror that the eye could not follow.
"Why don't you kill him?" the newcomer dared to hiss, immediately regretting his insolence. With a jerk, his body slammed into the spot where the bloodhunter had just tied him to the wall - this time her grip encircled the other vampire's throat. She did nothing but pierce his features with her gaze - and Zane could swear that the fool turned even paler than before.
Ah, the higher-ranking one must have taught the cheeky pup some respect...
This was his chance!
Saint-Sulpice was not far from here. The cathedral was his lifeline. Sacred ground where the vampires couldn't follow him and which gave him access to the catacombs. All he had to do was reach it...
Zane jumped.
Loose stones wobbled menacingly under his paws as he scaled the rubble with powerful leaps until he felt the rough shingles of the sloping roof under his feet.
Now, the head under the silver hair turned in his direction, and then he lay back down on Casimir. "Catch him ... but alive. Otherwise, YOU are MY prey today!" a cold voice whispered in the darkness.
If she said more, he didn't hear it. A few shingles came loose under his paws, clattered downwards, and fell crashing into the depths, where they shattered on the ground.
"Go! After them!" The shout below him made him flinch.
A glance into the depths confirmed his suspicions - the two hunters had retaken to his heels and were climbing up over the scree and the remains of the wall. Casimir's ruby-red eyes were fixed on him while Myra followed at a moderate distance. Against the real Slayer, even the other vampire's lithe movements seemed almost clumsy.
So that was how it was... the puppy was supposed to learn to hunt, and he was the prey?
The Cait-Sith snorted. The little one had overreached himself. Whether the bloodhunter was trying to teach the guy a lesson or create an opportunity for him to escape for some reason... it didn't matter.
His gaze fixed on the sea of irregular roofs before him—waves of shingles, flickering lights, and deep chasms.
Now, it was escape or die.