A loud crash fills the air. Glass shatters and shards of it fly across the hotel room. Rolling through the explosion, a dark figure appears from the now destroyed window. There is a moment of chaos before everybody gets their bearings. In that time the situation has solved itself. The shadow has moved across the room and is now holding a blade against Sam's exposed throat.
"Well, well. It took some time, but finally you arrived. I must say: quite an entrance."
Ivy on the other hand, doesn't have time for chit-chat. In her black leather cat suit, she presses the blade deeper, drawing blood. "Release Rachel and this man lives. Release her, now."
"I shall do as you say." Marcus lazily strolls across the room and reaches for the ropes Rachel has been bound with. "...not." He laughs, grabs Rachel's chair and moves her so that she is now facing Ivy.
"This one has a beautiful neck. It calls out to me. Unclaimed and an unique aroma. It would be so good to just let my fangs sink in, suck the last drop out of her body and feel her last breaths as she dies in my arms." Marcus traces her finger across Rachel's neck, over her scar. It makes Rachel shiver even if she doesn't want to. "Would you like to watch, Ivy dear?" He grins wickedly. "I could let you have a taste. The last blood of a dying witch. They say there's nothing like it."
Ivy is now visibly distressed. "What are you doing? Does your partner's life mean nothing to you?"
"No. It doesn't. Perhaps I would have some reason to save him if he hadn't blundered so badly just now. I had no idea you wield a blade. It was unforgivable oversight on his part and I won't forgive him. Just kill him and save me the trouble." Marcus sighs.
"You see, there's this device. It's origin is demonic. When powered up if maintains a short range field. The field suppresses all rapidly expanding and moving particles. That includes electricity, magic and, you guessed it, gunpowder. Only thing that works in this field is; cold steel." Marcus eyes are now singing with joy, the anticipation of a battle.
"I happen to have one of the finest swords in Northern America. Not any Japanese crap, katanas or such. This is completely modern piece of technological marvel, perfectly balanced composite steel blade with a plastic grip that is easy to hold on."
Marcus walks across the room and picks up a decorated scabbard, inside which he draws a shining blade and whirls it in the air, making swooshing noises sounding too much something like out of science fiction instead of reality.
"It even cuts air. I just love swords, don't you. It's great that we have something in common, all the better for me to kill you. Maybe I'll even visit your grave someday." Marcus smiles that deceptive smile of his. If one wouldn't know of his true nature one could be completely taken over with that smile.
Ivy had been so distracted by Marcus that she had completely forgotten about the man she was now holding. In a last futile effort Sam had produced a knife and was now plunging it down towards Ivy's exposed abdomen. Sam didn't just know how good Ivy really was. There were those who could fight with a sword, swing it properly and deflect blows. One also needed proper movement to jump and roll as the situation required. Steady balance was key.
Then there were those like Ivy, sword dancers. She didn't fight, she breathed. Time slowed down. Ivy saw what Sam was doing and she didn't think. She let her body do the work. The body she had rigorously trained through the years.
The situation was over in under a second. With a sickening thunk Ivy's blade had pierced Sam's whole body, and the sword's tip was now visible from the other side. Blood was slowly starting to drip from the mortal wound. Ivy stood paralyzed.
"Why?" She whispered, almost desperately. She had killed. This man was going to die. There was no turning back. Her blade had went through his stomach and his lungs. Blood was starting to flow from his silently screaming mouth. She had killed.
"Incredible, are you truly feeling something for that piece of shit. I thought you had what it takes. I thought you were better than this, Ms. Tamwood. It's truly a sad state of affairs when a vampire once so glorious and deadly as yourself turns into this whimpering fool of a girl who can't even hold her sword straight." Marcus mocked.
Ivy gazed at Marcus, but something had gone from her. Her fighting spirit. Ivy's eyes traveled to Rachel's and she saw herself reflected right there. Oh God, she must think me as a monster. Which I am. I'm horrible. I killed this human being in cold blood. I don't deserve her. I've never deserved her. I was a fool to think so even for a short while
All these thoughts multiplied and echoed inside her head, making her stagger.
Sam gasped. Oh God, he was still alive. Now he was starting to gurgle, drops of blood flying from his mouth hitting Ivy in the face. She was still holding her sword inside him and it was the only thing keeping him standing.
"Please, please... let me live, let me live." He whimpered. Fool. You sad fool. You are already dead but just don't know it. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.
With a last act of mercy Ivy drew her blade from the man. He falls to the ground, blood flowing now in a torrent and a large pool starting to form at Ivy's feet. She can't take her eyes from the now dead body. The heartbeat has ceased. His last breath has been taken and there is nothing left, but a pound of flesh.
"I hope you're not going to cry, because I couldn't bear it. You have a sword, lets see if you can use it. En garde, Ms. Crybaby. Please don't drool on my shoes, they're quite expensive."
Ivy takes a defensive stance but the dance is gone. There is no song. All her movements are now mechanical in nature instead flowing one with time and space itself. She can't anticipate, she can't see anymore. She has been blinded. It feels like the fight is over before it even started. But still she must try or all is for naught.
"You know, I had this perfect plan." Marcus steps in and starts to circle around Ivy.
"Make Ms. Morgan here drink synthetic vampire pheromone which makes her irresistible to all vampires, even more so with her unclaimed scar, then just wait for you to waltz in and bite her to death." Marcus is obviously amused by this idea.
With a grunt he strikes from the left side, but Ivy is already anticipating and deflects. Their swords slide against each other, sparks flying in the air. Somehow Marcus has managed to cut Ivy's arm. The blood drips from the wound and colors Ivy's shoulder red.
Another strike. But this time it's a feign. Instead, Marcus strikes with his left fist into Ivy's face and she staggers back regaining her balance rapidly.
"It would've been a poetic and a fitting don't you think. Ms. Morgan here just seems to be impervious to my manly wiles, probably stemming from the fact that she's a lesbian."
Ivy's face blanks out. "A what?" Stunned, she is so completely taken off guard that she can barely dodge a sword aimed right at her neck by performing an impossible limbo move.
Marcus has overextended himself for that final swipe and Ivy now has an opening for his feet. She takes it but is too slow. Marcus jumps and kicks her in the face. She flies backwards against the wall with a loud crash.
The glasses in the kitchen table fall to the ground and shatter from the power of the impact. Dust from the wall explodes and Rachel is sure she heard the thick beam of wood supporting the wall crack.
She tries to stand up but fails and falls back onto the floor. Blood is trickling from the corner of her mouth. Her sword has fallen from her hand. Marcus walks over, looking at her with pity in his eyes and performs the final blow that drops her cold, a fist to the chin.
"Have to do this the old fashioned way now instead, I'm afraid." Marcus swiped the blood out of the blade of his sword with the sleeve of his shirt. Almost resisting but not really succeeding in licking the last drops clean.