Here's the next one! It came a lot faster than I'd thought. It's amazing how some scenes just take off while others need time to percolate. The next one'll be out today as well - as I wrote this bit out of order. If you like, let me know! :)
"Fuck off!"
Adrian didn't need to ask who had screamed that across the room, even with his head lowered. The priest had come very close to killing him in a single blow - and he was breathing laboriously through his teeth. His body was healing itself - thanks to Veil's lingering gift - but it was not a pleasant process to endure.
A hand at his elbow made him jump and growl at whoever was in front of him. A young woman - blonde, recoiled from him, her hands up to say that she meant him no harm. "Let me help you," she said quietly. Her face was kind - warm - not what he had expected from a minion of a fallen archangel. A simple, gold cross hung around her neck. The presence of it was more effective than a slap across the face, such was his shock.
"No," he growled, and pushed himself to standing - the hand against the floor leaving a bloody print in its wake.
They were in the lobby of a building, it seemed. Plush, patterned furniture was scattered about the room, tables dotting here and there - the electric lights cast the room in an unkind and artificial light. The sky, visible through the glass windows that lined the front of the building - was dark, and burned red with an unnatural glow. It was a glow he knew - a city on fire.
They had been taken from the castle, it seemed. Swept by magic to some nearby town. What manner of building they were standing in, it took him a moment to understand. But a sign upon the desk read, in several languages, one of which being english 'Hotel Check-In.'
The young woman in front of him reached to a table nearby, and there were several rolls of gauze, and medical supplies. She placed it closer to him - and with a bow of her head, turned to walk away.
He was confused, to say the least. A scan of the room revealed that there were half a dozen of these unknown people - each wearing a pin on their lapels that revealed to whom they swore fealty. Asmodeus, he guessed, by the wooden puppets that were now slinking away to stand against the walls. One still lacked part of an arm.
But there were a few others that did not seem to share such allegiance. Conrad and Gabriel were being helped to their feet by several people that they seemed to recognize - talking quietly in Italian, discussing what had transpired. Members of the holy Order.
"What has happened?" he caught Gabriel say - although Adrian's Italian was out of practice.
"They have come - from the archangel. They say he is here to help - they saved our lives," one of his cohorts that Adrian did not recognize replied. He puzzled at the words - that they would align themselves with Asmodeus.
"Bullshit," Conrad said with a laugh - that time in english. He snapped back to his Italian, which was even poorer than Adrian's, and thick with his Irish lilt. "You're kidding me."
"It is truth! Cardinal Leone is… is dead. We are awaiting orders - but we worry none will come," the other order member answered. "They told us you two might yet live - that they would seek to rescue you both. We stayed in hopes such things were true."
Adrian lost track of the conversation then - their Italian too modern, and too quick for him to follow now. So there were those that served Asmodeus - those that served the Order… Veil, himself, and one other.
One man seemed out of place. Dark brown hair, greying at the temples - concern etched deeply into his features. He was stepping towards Veil - and it was only upon seeing him, that the fury and terror on her own face skipped a beat.
"Richard..?" she asked, astonished and confused - and relieved. Her glaive clattered to the ground as he rushed forward to hug her - and she returned it, wrapping her arms around him and squeezed him as though she was certain they would never meet again. And likely, they had both believed it to be the case. "You're alright!"
"I'm fine - but not because of anything I did."
"What happened?" she asked, finally letting go to step back, to look up at his aging face. This was her friend that she had spoken of - the young boy she had rescued many years ago. Perhaps one of her only friends in this world.
"The blockade was overrun. The armies you sent a photo of - they… washed over the military like they were nothing. We're back in Brasov now. We had to retreat. They're burning everything - everything they come across is gone," his finished, his face was now creased in sorrow.
Adrian listened, silently, as he went about bandaging the wound on his side. Mostly to stop the blood from ruining more of his clothing, than to aid in the healing process. The wound was nearly closed, now - but it stung no less.
Veil swore under her breath.
Richard turned to look at the man in the green suitcoat, who had stood up from his kneel at Veil's feet, to stand quietly and unassuming - waiting. "We'd be dead, if it weren't for them."
"Richard-" Veil warned. "You don't know what you're talking about."
"They have an army of their own. Hundreds and hundreds, maybe thousands of people - from all over the world, here - to fight. And they're holding them back. Dracula's forces can't get past them." Richard said, hope tinging his voice.
"What have they done to you, Richard…?" Veil grabbed him by the arm and dragged him away from the watchful eyes of Gustav - walking over to Adrian instead. "Snap out of it," she hissed at her friend.
"I'm not - I know who they are, Veil. I know what they've done - but it's the truth. Alistair's army is holding back Dracula's. They're helping. That's fact."
"They're helping because they want something-" Veil argued angrily in hushed tones, and jabbed a finger into her friend's chest with each of the following words. "You know how this shit works."
"I do, I know I-" Richard looked up at Adrian, and his face went white - and he stammered off into a meaningless series of noises. "I-er-eh-uh…" he coughed, hard, as if that were the problem, and he looked squarely down at his feet.
Adrian looked at Veil with a raised eyebrow, as if to ask what had caused the man to malfunction so.
Veil tried not to laugh, staring up at the sky as if to ask 'why me?' She let out a long breath and looking back to Adrian's silent question, mouthed what might have been the words 'fan' followed by 'boy.' But they made absolutely no manner of sense to him, so he must have read them wrong.
"Is that… Is that-" Richard broke off, still staring at his shoes.
"Yup," she responded. "In the flesh." Even in light of the situation, she was deriving great pleasure from her friends discomfort. But there was business to attend. "We have to leave. We have to get away from them."
"Veil, the city is burning… there's nowhere to go. This is where the fight is." Richard had turned his attention back up from his footwear, but now, kept sending darting glances in Adrian's direction - which mystified him as to why.
"Then we move to another building," she said flatly. "I am not staying here with them."
"The city's in ruins. They only managed to keep this place standing, and barely. We'd be without power, but this place has a generator," Richard pointed out, trying to be the voice of logic. "This place has water, heat - power - nowhere else does."
Veil sighed deeply, angrily. "Richard… snap the fuck out of it, will you?!"
Richard finally took her by the upper arms - trying to be insistent, but not forceful. "Listen, Veil. I know who they are. Trust me. I know what they've done to you. I don't know their game - but they are the only thing stopping Dracula's forces right now. What I saw those monsters do to the people at the blockade - what I saw them do to the people here, before Alistar's people showed up - I can't - I-" Richard stammered again, his face contorting in pain and fear, reliving his recent trauma.
Veil let out a breath and held her friend close in a hug again. Richard accepted it, and lowered his head. "I'm not like you, Veil," he murmured, pulling away from her once more. "I can't see all that and just… just keep going. I don't know what their game is… I don't know what their ulterior motive is. I just know that right now, they are the only thing that is keeping Dracula from destroying everything in his wake."
"Fine. Let's find out." Veil's voice was hard, and dark - and she stormed away from the two of them. She retrieved her glaive from the floor - and then made a line for Gustav. "C'mere, fuckface-" Her hand twisted in the man's shirt collar, and he let out a yelp as Veil began dragging him for the door. "Let's have a little chat, huh?!"
The sudden attack had the room screeching to a halt, as Gustav stammered pleas for her to release him. But she was uninterested, and instead forcefully kicked the door open to the street outside. She violently threw the man ahead of her, sending him toppling down the cement stairs and to the street below.
Richard sighed, hard. "I should stop her before she kills him," he said as he walked away from Adrian.
Adrian knew he should follow for a similar reason - if not that, then the curiosity that burned within him. More windows into her former life opened before him, and he could not help but peer through. They followed her outside, with a few of Gustav's fellow cultists following behind them. But they kept their distance - not seeming to wish to interfere.
"What's your play?" Veil demanded of the man who was just now getting back to his feet. "Huh?! I didn't hear you!" She swung the blunt end of her glaive out for the back of the man's knees, which crumpled him once more to the black, tar-like pavement. She stood over him then, the pointed end of her staff touching his neck, digging into it enough to draw a thin line of blood. "I'll kill you. Right here, right now. You know I have no problem with that."
"I know-" Gustav choked out, his hands trying to keep the blade from tearing open his throat.
"And I'll sleep better, knowing I did. So tell me the game. Tell me why the fuck that piece of shit has you here masquerading around like you're the 'good guys.'" She dug the blade harder in with her expletive, and he gagged and winced in pain.
"Veil-" Richard tried to interrupt, but she was having none of it.
"Stay out of this, Richie. I don't know how they got into your head, but they did."
"Lord Alistair sent us here to stop - to stop Dracula. To help you kill him. He wants to protect this earth - the people on it!"
"Bullshit-" Veil snarled angrily down through clenched teeth. "Try again!"
"It's true!" Gustav yelled, through a sob. "He only told us what to request of you, if - if -"
"If what?!"
"If our forces weren't enough to stop him!" he finished, his eyes screwing shut for a moment in fear, knowing she would kill him.
"Liar!" Veil screamed.
Her eyes were wild - she was losing all grasp of what she was doing. Adrian stepped forward, and placed a gloved hand on her shoulder. "Enough, Veil…"
"Not you, too-" She glared at him. Dark eyes, awash with fury, pain, heartbreak and fear, all rushing together and battling for control. She was frantic.
"Not like this," he said quietly - insistently. Murder like this was cold - unjustified. The man was helpless. His words did their deed, and she shakily raised her glaived weapon and took a step back from him. Gustav's hand went to his throat, but he made no motion other than that to defend himself. Despite the gun that Adrian saw tucked into a holster at the man's side, he made no motion as if to use it.
"We were ordered to bring our forces here, to defend humanity as best we could. Only if we began to lose ground, were we told to interact with you at all. He instructed us to leave you be - to make no attempt to reach you, unless the situation became dire."
"I don't believe you," Veil growled. "I know him, asshole. I know it's just a sick game!" She went to move forward again, to attack the man once more - but Adrian kept his hand on her shoulder. A small press of his hand was enough to stop her. Adrian knew the gesture was not enough to restrain her truly - but she managed to keep herself in check, as though his touch grounded her.
Gustav managed to shakily get to his feet. "My lady… please. We mean you no harm. I am telling you the truth."
"Where is he, then?" Veil asked, with no small edge of fear in her voice. Adrian could feel her taut beneath his hand - ready to snap at any moment. Ready to kill, or flee.
Gustav hung his head. "Our master does not walk this plane, my lady. Not since… not since you struck him down." Veil didn't answer for a long moment, confusion and disbelief overriding her features. Gustav kept speaking, in her silence. "Since you destroyed his body - he has been unable to walk this earth in physical form. In that, is our plight, and our plea. If we are truly to defeat Dracula - to drive back his hordes - we need him here. We need you to bring him back."
Veil laughed sharply, and this time broke free of his hand as she stepped away from Gustav. "No. Not now, not ever. See?!" she shouted at Richard, who jumped back at her sudden redirection of anger in his direction. "I told you they had a fucking game! They're only here to get me to bring back their master!"
"Our master means this world no harm! He never has - you know that!" Gustav cried. Veil went to charge at him again, and Adrian redoubled his efforts - standing perpendicular to her. His hand shifted to her other shoulder - to gently place his arm between the two. Gustav, seeing her pause, continued to speak. "He has been on this plane of existence since great King Solomon drew him here. Since he was summoned to this world by a human! He means mankind no harm - indeed, he means now to save it! Alistair has vowed to stand beside you in this fight, and then leave you be, unharmed and untouched - and free to go your own way. Please," Gustav implored her. "Please… if we are to survive - if the lives of our people, and the people of this earth are to continue - we need him."
"Can I kill him? I really want to kill him," she asked Adrian, her body shaking in rage.
"Veil," he said quietly back to her. "Calm yourself. They are only words he speaks."
"Sirs," Gustav addressed Adrian and Richard. "Our master means you all no harm - he means only to protect this world. My words are truth, ones she cannot deny. Alistair has walked this earth for millenium - unchecked and unchallenged. Why? For he did this world no wrong. No suffering. No torment wrought to even hold a candle to that of Dracula. He walked this earth freely until she struck him down. For valid reasons, I admit - in her anger and hate, for which she has every reason and right to feel. But we cannot let their history cloud what needs to be done!"
Veil slung the glaive over her shoulder, and seemed to take a moment to think about Gustav's words. Adrian kept close to her - wishing to support her in some way he knew not how.
Veil then seemed to make up her mind. Adrian staggered back suddenly as her palms met his chest and pushed him backwards. The sudden movement made him almost lose his balance entirely - and he only just managed to remain standing.
"I'm not doing this. I'm not listening to him - I'm not listening to any of you. Fuck all of this. Let Dracula burn this world to the ground, for all I care!" she shouted.
It was Richard's turn. "Please, Veil - you don't mean that, do you?"
"I think I do, Richie - I really think I do," she said through a sarcastic laugh. "What do you think I should do, huh? Bring that asshole back into this world?!"
"Dire needs make strange bedfellows," Richard advised. "I'm not saying I like this. I'm really not. I really don't."
"You knew, didn't you?!" she accused him - stomping towards her friend and grabbing him by the front of his shirt. "They told you what they wanted me to do. And you still stood there?! You're still okay with this?!"
"Veil, please!" Richard exclaimed. He begging her, trying to reason with her through her anger. "Please, listen to me…"
"Then talk, Richie. I'm all ears." She pushed away from him and held out her arms at her sides. "Tell me how this isn't just one big stab in the back."
"You know I hate these kind of people just as much as you do. They took my family, Veil. If it wasn't for you, I'd be dead, too. I owe you everything. But these are not those people. What's the difference between a cult, and a religious sect? Murder. Torture. Evil. How many people have we found, worshiping some little known demon - only to leave them alone, because they hadn't done any wrong? Their choice of god doesn't make them worthy of death. You and I agreed on that."
"I know that," she snarled at him.
Richard continued. "Tell me the last time Alistar's people did any of that. Tell me the last time they killed people, stole from them, manipulated them. We have no record of it - not in the last hundred years! And not from lack of our searching for it!"
"I'll tell you when they did, Richard-" she spat his name out angrily. "When they made me."
"Are we not allowed to find retribution for our sins?" Gustav added. "Alistair mourns deeply for the pain he caused you, and the others he-"
"Shut the fuck up-" Veil snarled at him, pointing a finger in his direction. "Before I use you to teach the meaning of the phrase 'curb stomp' to Adrian here."
Meanwhile, Adrian felt like a hapless bystander witnessing some great greek drama play out before his eyes. He wished to leap upon the stage and stop the show - to rewrite the dialogue. But he felt immensely unwelcome in matters he was not directly involved.
Richard stepped back towards Veil. "They're here to help. I saw it with my own eyes. If we need Alistair to stop Dracula - to stop the… the horrors they've done. The horrors they continue to do - then fine! Bring him back. Bring him back here, to stop all this - and then if he turns out to be what we think he is - we stop him, too."
Veil laughed, a sick, sad laughter. She turned to Adrian, and the sudden inclusion was worse than the exclusion. He wished to be back in the stands, watching from afar. "What do you think, buttercup?"
Adrian hadn't even thought that far through the matter at hand. He looked for a long time at his friend - and he stopped harshly in his tracks at he realized he now thought of her as such a thing. Caught up in this new realization, unable to decide what he thought about it, he waited too long.
"Well?!" Veil demanded angrily.
"I-" Adrian began, and was honest with her. An undebated, unthought, instinctual response. "I do not know."
That was as good as a vote on behalf of the fallen archangel in her mind. She stormed away from them all, throwing the door to the hotel open in her rage - nearly shattering it.
The three men left standing there in her wake - Gustav, Richard, and Adrian - could only watch uselessly as she exited abruptly. It was one way to stop an argument, he had to admit.
"I'll go after her," Richard began with a sigh.
"No," Adrian interrupted. Another unchecked response from his own mind. Adrian knew not what inspired him - he did not like to have to think so quickly on his feet about his opinions. "I will."
Adrian was glad to abandon 'Gustav' and this 'Richard' - who was still looking at him like he were the moon itself come down to earth, a reaction he still did not understand - upon the sidewalk. He walked into the building, pushing past the cultists who watched the scene unfold, agog.
He did not like being on display - he did not like being in the public eye. Indeed, he preferred the shadows. Solitude. His carefully crafted mask of indifference was one to keep himself as undesirable company. And for this precise reason. Emotional connections were… messy. Entangling. Complicated. And in his world, defined by loss and the passage of empty time, they were needlessly painful.
But, as it had just occurred to him but moments prior - the firebrand he had been traveling with, had leaked past his defenses. Moved closer into his heart than he would care to admit.
She had taken the stairs - and he heard her heavy booted steps as he deftly wound his way up after her. Taking the stairs two, three at a time to catch up. A door out to the hotel hallways was almost finished closing as he approached it - and stepped out from the stairwell.
A hallway on an upper floor was what greeted him. Hotels seemed to be little changed since the taverns of his day - boarding rooms in lines, arranged efficiently for their purpose. He heard a door slam shut with the resounding impact of wood meeting jamb. He walked after her, and found the door in question. It was, as the noise indicated - shut.
Adrian knocked on the door. Wondering if it was the right room, when no one responded. Perhaps he had the wrong door after all. He knocked once more.
"Fuck off," came the voice from the other side.
Yes, definitely Veil's room.
Adrian sighed - and decided he did not like the idea of arguing with his… 'friend' from either side of a wood door. Instead, he took the form of mist, and slipped underneath the gap of the door. He reformed on the other side - and felt the blade of her glaive against his throat as he did.
"That's not just a little pervy," Veil glared at him.
Another word he did not understand. Yet, he grasped its meaning well enough. He pushed the blade away with the back of his hand, and she let him. It was a false attack and they were both well aware of it. Conceding that she had no intention of killing him, Veil put her weapon up against the wall, and walked away from him.
The hotel room seemed to be more of a suite than a single room for sleeping. A large center table, dotted with chairs - and covered with papers and notes. He walked towards it, and looking down - he saw sketches of monsters he recognized. One, two - three, he counted, of his father. And one, interestingly enough… of himself. He placed his gloved hand against the paper, and slid it towards him - narrowing his eyes down at it curiously.
"Richard's notes. Most of that's from the Belmont journals. If I weren't so angry, I'd have really introduced you two. I've never seen him go full four-alarm 'babbling idiot' in front of someone before."
Ah. So that is why the man seemed so without mind in his presence. He was intimidated by his 'fame' it seemed. Adrian made a small, single and silent laugh at the thought that he was 'famous' to someone.
But he could ponder of that another time. Adrian looked up to his friend, who was standing looking out at the burning city. Indeed, it was a roaring inferno in the distance - the city of Brasov was in ruins. Most of the buildings nearby had no intact windows - indeed, was remarkable that this one faired nearly as well as it had. If Richard was correct, that was attributable to the work of Gustav and his allies. The city's people were dead, gone - or now part of the army of the dead that had overtaken them.
"Veil," Adrian began - although to be honest, he had little idea of where he was attempting to guide the conversation.
"The answer is no," she answered, turning to face him. "You can't possibly tell me you're on their side."
"I am on your side," he insisted. "But… we lost that fight, Veil. We would have died in that cathedral, if not for Alistair's people."
Adrian removed his gloves, and let them fall on the table. There were two ways this conversation might go - and one involved violence. If that were the case, he would do so without the fabric to separate them. He stepped towards her, hand outstretched to touch her shoulder gently. She swatted it away from him, and her eyes narrowed in a glare.
"You're falling for it! You're falling for their goddamn lies! I thought if anybody around here could see through their steaming piles of bullshit, it would've been you." She stepped back away from him - hurt and angry. "The priests looked fine with it. And then Richard. And now you? No. I won't. I don't care!"
Adrian shut his eyes, and shook his head. This was not his intention. "We are not enough to stop the armies of my father."
"Then we go back in there, and we stop Dracula. Like the original plan." Veil was now pacing the room angrily.
"We lost," he reiterated. "Death knows how to restrain you, it seems - and if we cannot win a battle with him and Lyon, we cannot win versus my father."
"Then how did you beat him before?"
Adrian felt himself cringe. "I have grown weak over the centuries, removed from life, and…"
"And not feeding," Veil finished for him. Adrian nodded once. "Then fine! Bite me, drink me dry however times you need to - and we march back in there. I'd rather do that a hundred thousand times than… than let that creature back into this world."
"My father has never, not once, gone to this length to destroy the world. I fear… some influence has fallen over him. That we may not be enough to end this."
"Switch roles, then. Your father wants to join our side to stop Alistair's evil army. What do you do?"
It was a fair question, and one he took the time to think through. "I would be doubtful. Reticent. Reluctant and angry, just as you are now. But… if my father even but gave me the word that he wished to rejoin this world… to live within it, and not in spite of it… I would accept it. I would not turn my back to him in trust - but neither would I turn my back on his help."
Veil shook her head - overwhelmed at his seeming ignorance. But it seemed she was unable to retort his reply to her question. She walked away from him, putting her palm up against the glass of the door to the balcony that overlooked the burning city. "Go away, Adrian. I'm not having this argument with you."
"Answer me this: Can Alistair aid us, in this fight?" he asked, walking up behind her gently. How he wanted to touch her sapphire hair - but he withheld the strange and sudden urge.
"Yeah," came her unhappy admission.
"Would he do so, as he promises? Is he a creature of his word?" Veil sighed darkly - angrily - and that was as much of an answer as he needed. Yes, he was. "What keeps us from raising him from the dead - allowing him to aid us in this fight - and then slay him once more?"
"You don't get it," she said angrily, her other hand curling into a fist.
Adrian reached out and placed his hand on her shoulder. "Help me understand." And then, came the inescapable words brought so foolishly out of his mouth like a bull at a banquet. "Help me understand why you fear him so."
Her fist met his jaw with a sharp crack, and he staggered backwards, his hand going to the offending location. Veil was pushing him back, then - and he wound up stuck between her fury and the table in the center of the room. The pain in his jaw had faded as quickly as it had come. But the insult had riled him, even more so than the pain.
"You don't understand what you're talking about," Veil snarled up at him.
"Would you let your fear of him, destroy this world, as you threatened moments ago?" Adrian asked her, feeling his own anger rise. "Would you not sacrifice yourself to save others? I thought you noble. Perhaps I was wrong."
She stormed away from him - but he followed after her, a step behind. Adrian grasped her shoulder. "I said go away!" she screamed.
Another fist swung towards his head, and he caught her wrist to keep it from landing. He didn't expect the knee to his stomach, though - that sent him staggering backwards with an 'unf,' the hand that had been clasping her wrist going to where she had hit him. "You're so fucking intent on killing your dad, can't you see what you're doing?! Alistair is evil, Adrian! He's a fucking fallen archangel - he's older, more powerful, and more dangerous that Vlad ever was!"
Adrian straightened up to deflect another hit, and one more - and she was keeping him on his heels - unable to get enough purchase to stop her. Finally, he managed to push her away from him long enough to speak. "Tell me that the man Gustav spoke false. Tell me that Alistair has not been on this earth in human form since the time of Solomon the King."
Veil's hands were fists at her sides - and she was fuming with rage. Namely, because his words were striking paydirt. He saw the pain in her eyes at them, even as it fueled the fire. "Tell me that he has made designs upon the death and enslavement of mankind." She was silent, still - glaring at him as if she meant to set him aflame with her mind alone. "The city burns - you saw his armies. That is but one part of the force he has unleashed. How many more thousands still march towards other cities, that would meet this same fate?"
"Shut the fuck up, Adrian!"
"He has lived upon this earth in one form or another since the time of Solomon the King - and he has never once waged war upon it such as my father has!" Adrian felt his voice become louder to combat her angry shouting.
"So he's the lesser of two evils, then?! That's why we're doing this?!" Veil swung her leg at him in a vicious kick. He jumped backwards to let it sail past him. Snarling, she stormed away from him, going for the door back to the stairs.
No. Adrian would not let her go once more without facing the truth of the matter. Without listening to him. He caught her wrist in his hand - and her other fist swung to meet him. He caught the other wrist, just the same.
Dark, furious eyes glared up at him in response. "Let me go, Adrian," she warned him dangerously. 'Or else,' was the implied second half of the sentence.
"Tell me then, of the wrong that Asmodeus has done on this earth. Tell me of the lives he has taken. Tell me of the horrors he has wrought this earth. Tell me, if the number of souls he has tortured and put to death even begins to rival that of my father's. If it is even but a fraction to what my father has done upon this earth, then I will stand beside you in this decision."
She yanked on her wrists, and her jaw twitched in anger. But she did not answer. "You are his daughter," Adrian prompted, and then saw his immediate mistake.
Veil vanished from his grasp, phasing her body out to the spirit world. Adrian was holding onto empty air. Suddenly, she impacted into him and sent him flying backwards. His flight was halted by the wall - if barely. It cracked around him, and as he fell to the floor, the plaster of it rained down around him. At least she pulled her blow, he thought. Normally, a hit from her would have sent him clear through the wall of the hotel without question.
"Don't you ever call me that," she seethed.
Very well. If she wished to engage in fisticuffs, he would oblige. He used his supernatural speed to stand and swing at her all in one movement. She barely managed to pull herself out of the way as his hand narrowly missed her chest. But he managed to turn the blow, digging his elbow into her ribs and sending her crashing into the table in the center of the room. The impact sent her up and over it - but she never hit the floor. She was gone - disappeared to the spirit world once more.
He stood there, and waited - letting his senses try and tune into where she could be. She materialized to his side - and in that blick of an eye he managed to deflect her blow - if barely. He hissed - his fangs extended in pain as she landed a punch to his side. She had used her soul ahead of her body - and therefore the inertia generated by her body 'catching up' to impart more force into her blow than she would otherwise be able to create.
Another foot to his ribs sent him backwards, sailing through a chair that shattered with his impact - the wood splintering around him like so much kindling. Her follow-up blow met empty air as he turned to mist - reforming a second later behind her.
A second chair met the same fate as the first, this time with her body crashing through it instead. She stood up, and threw one of the pieces of splintered wood at his head - and he ducked it as it hit the wall behind him, shattering a painting in its glass frame behind him. He went for a kick - and she dodged it. It allowed him to grasp her arm and spin her about, placing his arms around her in a grappling headlock.
"Enough!" he growled, feeling his fangs prick against his lower lip. Hunger surged abruptly through him, and he was taken aback by the instantaneous response. Her body was hot against his, and he was distracted by the feeling of her, writhing against him.
But he was suddenly holding air - and then staggering forwards as she kicked him in the back from where she had rematerialized behind him. He heard her boot crunch a piece of splintered wood beneath her feet - and he used that to judge precisely where she was standing.
He stood up and swung in one movement again - using all he had, to land the palm of his face squarely to the side of her head. She staggered backwards from the blow - her hand cupping her face where he had struck her. Pulling her hand away, he had split her lip - and there was a thin trail of blood on her hand. Dark eyes, alight with fury, met his gold ones in a glare that was meant to promise payback ten fold for the damage.
No. This was over. Adrian grabbed her by the shoulders and slammed her into the wooden beam in the center of the room. His fingers dug into her thin shoulders, and he felt her press against him, trying to push him away. That same hunger, fueled by adrenaline and violence, surged harder to the surface. He knew she could escape - but she chose not to. Chose to keep the fight physical - for what reason, he did not know.
She was beautiful in her fury - eyes a dark storm in midnight seas. Adrian struggled both with her squirming for freedom, and what was suddenly pounding through him in a vicious fire.
Veil struggled, managed to push off from the beam before he pressed her back against it. "Stop," he ordered through clenched teeth. She tried to escape him one more time, and he insisted once more in turn, his fingers wrapping around her shoulders to press her firmly into the wood beam. "Veil, enough!"
His heart was pounding in his ears. His breath was heavy as his mortal half sought to keep up with the fight. But in truth, it was not the sole reason for his state of being. Adrian was not a man of passion. It had always been foreign to him - how people could be so swept up in something as they acted irrationally. How they could become so not like themselves, in a single moment of intensity.
But the adrenaline, the violence - the feel of her - the angry, fiery glare of the creature before him. He knew not what he wanted - could not reason his way through what had him in its grasp. He could not think of what to say, what to do. He only knew he wanted one thing - only wished to do one thing. He was too weak to resist it.
Adrian's lips crashed against hers.