"You shouldn't have done that." The air nearly trembled as the words left his mouth, rage burning in his sunken eyes. They bore into those of the werewolf who so stupidly slighted his will, this ridiculous creature stood before him, stinking of tears and sorrow.
George held his ground, though he wanted to hold Nina and Annie, to cry with them and be left alone with the grief of the greatest action he had taken in his life. He could still smell Mitchell, as though the vampire had simply popped out for some milk from the store, rather than ceased to exist. He swallowed, roughly, once, his hand flexing into a fist. His muscles bunched, foot sliding back a little, but it was not he that made the first move.
No, it was Nina. She lunged, yelling something nearly unintelligible as she did, her small form slamming into Whydam heavily. It took the vampire somewhat by surprise – enough so that by the time George was on his as well, his eyes had gone black and his fangs bared as he threw the female off him, only to be knocked against the wall by her mate. George was pounding on him, knuckles bruising with each collision against the Old One, but he was distracted at a cry of pain as Nina hit the wall.
Annie had knelt down, hands trembling as she reached for the stake that had fallen to the ground. She had thought there might have been some ashes left, after Mitchell…went. But it was just the stake, still cold, and her fingers wrapped around it. Her curls were in her eyes, she felt slow as she stood again. George's fist drew back again and again, coming down on the vampire and flinging his blood onto the walls in long trailing sprays.
Suddenly, nails got a grip in the side of George's head, slamming it to the side.
Whydam's strength was impressive, even for a vampire: George found himself on the floor, breath knocked from him. The vampire's hands closed around his throat, constricting as he roared into the werewolf's face, worlds slurred with his fangs flashing. "Insolent cur!" George's face was turning red, his legs thrashing under the suited figure. "I am going to cut that pup from your bitch's belly," He told him, eyes widening and forcing his gaze to Nina, who laid crumpled against the wall. "And make you eat it!"
Nina stirred, as George could feel consciousness start to flee from him, his mouth gasping for a breath that would not come and and his vision starting to spot. Nina groaned, pulling herself up – her arm felt like it had broken from the force of being slammed against the wall, and she tore her way upright, gasping a little and clutching at her stomach with her good arm. "George!" She saw him on the ground, taking a step towards the doorway back to the living room.
Suddenly, red filled George's vision. Breath rushed into him, rattling around inside his lungs as a piercing screech flew from between Whydam's fangs. Above his head, Annie's curls showed, quivering as she pushed all the weight her incorporeal form had against the stake, burying it to the hilt between Whydam's ribs. The Old One was screaming, unlike anything they had ever heard, and then, suddenly silence.
Wisps of black trailed off his form, his mouth still open and his head thrown back. His fangs turned black as cracks spread across his sharp nose, down his throat towards the collar of his formerly-pressed suit. It took longer than it had with Mitchell: he started to crumble and disintegrate before their eyes, and then, eventually, he was gone too.
They were unable to appreciate the silence for long; suddenly plumes of smoke were trickling in from the kitchen, and George was on his feet; he grabbed Annie's hand and made for Nina, nearly picking her straight off her feet as he made for the front door. It slammed open, knocking back two of the vampires standing outside: they hissed, fangs flicking out, but it was no use; dozens more were stood in the front yard, hissing and leering. They could not cross the threshold, it was true, but the smoke was beginning to fill the house. George, wide-eyed, looked to Nina, then Annie, before turning around and dragging the pair upstairs.
"George, you can't jump out a window!" Annie's face was still slick with tears and she stumbled over her own feet, falling against the stairs before scrambling up again.
"So what do you propose?!" He retorted, voice cracking, looking back at the two women. "We can't go out the front, and if the house burns they can come in as they like!" His steps never faltered, reaching the top of the stairs and dragging Nina down the hall towards the attic.
"Stop and just think about this! Nina won't survive the fall!" Annie implored, eyes wide as she caught up with them and touched her friend's injured arm.
This incited a hiss from Nina, who was breathing heavily, hair a mess around her face.
She paused, nearly being yanked to the ground as George's pace hadn't stopped when hers did. "George!" His mate yelped, sinking to the ground as she put a hand out to balance herself. It was only now that her mate stopped to look at her, his eyes a bit wild. Her own gaze was pained, her arm curled up against her side and the other holding her upright. "Something's not right!" Her eyes were scared, eyebrows creasing together as a hand came to her stomach.
"No, no, no, not now!" George howled, sinking down with her against the wall, a hand coming to press against her cheek, his face close to hers. "We're so close, Nina, please, it has to be okay!" Annie knelt with them, her hands fretting over Nina without touching.
Nina shook her head a little, opening her mouth to speak but the words were cut off by a sharp gasp. Smoke was beginning to float up the stairwell behind them, the old house creaking as the kitchen was well ablaze now. They could hear the voices of the vampires outside, shouting raucously about the lengths to which they would torture and punish the trio inside once they got their hands on them.
"We have to move, Nina." George said, head still bobbing to himself. Her eyes squeezed shut and she nodded, licking her lips and grabbing ahold of his arm.
"I know…" Her words came quickly, but were interrupted once more, this time by the sound of splintering wood from downstairs. Annie looked quickly over her shoulder, and when her eyes flicked back to her friends George had grabbed a hold of her shirt.
"Annie, Rentaghost." His eyes were wide, as he let her go, arms reaching under Nina to pick her up, hefting her onto his knee and then into his arms as he stood.
"I'm not leaving you!" She cried, appalled. "We can get out the back, we just – "
"Annie, now!" George yelled, looking to her. He was frightened. She stared at him for a split second, the heat in the air fraying at her curls, and then she was gone.
The air was cool here, almost cold. Hard pavement rushed up to meet her as she dropped, letting out a ragged sob. Her eyes came to her face, wiping at her tears, trying to right herself. He had looked so scared. If even he couldn't face what was sure to come through their door then how could she?
Annie's head lifted. She expected to see their street, or maybe even the house with the kitchen all lit up from the fire, or the shops she'd come to visit since they had moved to Barry Island. Instead, she saw a small stoop set into walls of off-pink plaster, and a very familiar door.