Finally "home"

[Szandor Colden]

The wet sound of jaws snarling and snapping shut on enemy necks could be heard in the night. Szandor fought ever on. These Vampires were young, clearly inexperienced. The only remotely troubling thing about their attacks were the numbers in which they attacked. But this was war. Nothing in recent decades had felt so blatantly like war than this moment, right now. Too bad for these Vampires, Szandor was a soldier, a warrior with the upbringing to prove it. As a Lycan, his energy, his strength, were unlimited. He could, and damn well would, fight until the sun came up, covered in the blood of his fallen enemies. Nothing mattered more than getting upstairs to Lucia and Pablo.
On the ground around Szandor, lay an ever increasing pile of corpses, each in varying states of decomposition. These Vampires already smelled horrendous to the Lycan, but as he tore them to pieces, the scent of death and decay rose like a cloud, filling the air and fueling Szandor's spirit. he didn't find any particular joy in the slaughter; not nearly as much as his Queen in any case. but duty dictated that the obstacles in the way of his goal be dealt with, so he killed.
The large, grey form of Szandor growled furosciously as he threw the Vampires off his body. Blood matted his fur, and his chest burned with an infernal fire, buthe jumped right back into the fray, clawing apart the Baby Bats attacking him. Slowly, he inched toward the entrance of the mansion. Though the wave of Vampires seemed to be dwindling, they were still relentless in their attacks.
The shot Szandor had sustained just moments earlier felt like it was getting worse. In the back of his mind, he knew he had a silver bullet lodged somewhere in his chest, but thw front of his mind was focused in getting through the horde in front of him to his Mistress' daughter and his packmate. Though these Vampires were weak, with how many were attacking him, quite a few bites and claws got through. And a moment to dig around in his chest to get out a bullet could cost Szandor his life when he could just bare through the pain for the time being. The problem would be if he sustained any serious wounds, as they would not heal with silver embedded near his heart.
Vaguely, Szandor was aware of Dane's side of the conversation that was going on; he knew what the Vampire King was trying to do. the worst part was that it would work, too, if he kept going the way he was. Mistress. Keep your head. The words were more direct than he intended, and the Lycan knew he might get reemed for them later, but he had always had Alena's back; there was no exception here. Her safety was his absolute top priority.
As Alena charged into the mansion, Szandor followed suite, ripping through the young Vampires to the building's lobby. He was running out of Vampires to kill, which meant soon he could scale the stairs to get to Pablo and Lucia whileAlena dealt with the King of Bats.

[Dane]

Dane sighed, feeling Alena tightly grasp his ankle just as he aimed downwards to fire at her. He had pushed his luck, Alena was far quicker than he initially thought and now he face the consequences for underestimating her; immense pain and possibly his demise. It was unfortunate, he had studied Alena and questioned this who witnessed the lycan in battle. Perhaps she was only know showing the true extent of her ability, the vampire found it flattering in a way. No other being demanded such attention.

His eyes closed as she drove him into the porch. He would try to separate himself from the experience, it was only a moment in time one that would pass quickly. Pain like most things is temporary, just like his injuries and wounds would be. His main and only focus was holding onto his revolver, if he were to live through this he would need it. His body exploded with pain as he was driven through the wood, he could feel and hear his bones crack, and while he gripped his gun tightly it let out a shot, and then another. As she still gripped his ankle, he knew she was not finished with him. Once again she flung him, this time into the railings. Raven's sword flew free from his hand as the ringing's punctured bone and flesh. Though she would leave him bloody and battered he would not give Alena the satisfaction of hearing him cry out in pain. He did not survive a thousand years of unlife to die screaming pathetically. Lifting his gun he fired blindly in Alena's direction.

Once again he was flung this time into his mansion. Mid-air he smirked. She did not know it yet, but Alena had just spared Dane's life. He would live another thousand years, he thought as he crashed into the stair way. Never again would he find himself at the mercy of another being. The vampire stood up, pulling himself out of the rubble before collapsing onto his belly. Apparently his legs were not functional at the moment, still he did not fret. All he needed were a few seconds before they could move again. From where he lay the vampire king glanced glanced upwards at the approaching lycan. He grinned, his face bloodied, a hole through his cheek, and home to a number of splinters. "Your daughter is little more than lure for bigger game. She does not interest me." Dane stared admittedly in partial awe as the two piercing eyes approached him. He wished for the strength to march into his enemies home with no fear or worry of death. The thought of perishing here surely had not crossed Alena's mind. He was truly jealous of her. It was not simply confidence, but rather fact that she bore no threats. Nobody could best her in combat now that her one equal was dead. "You assume much." He said as she charged him. Lifting his weapon he fired its final shot, at this point it would do little to deter her charge, fortunately he was not so defenseless. Moments before impending death the vampire with both arms quickly and powerfully pushed against the floor. It paid to be light and strong, his body flew upwards just as if he had jumped. Rather than crashing into the ceiling he pushed off it as well, sending his body down crashing into the lycan's back. He stabbed at her with his silver dagger, it appearing almost out of thin air. Feeling finally returned to his legs in the scramble that followed afterwards. Dane punched at Alena's spine hoping to keep her down as he jumped onto his feet. Sparing no time with both hands he grabbed her by a hind leg. Spinning he lifted the lycan off the ground, the two twirled together before he let go sending his enemy through a wall and into the room over. The mansion shook violently. He smiled, knowing the building had one less support beam. "I have seen more of your charm than you would like to believe." He spoke stepping through the hole, alert of his surroundings. The toss would hurt her less than it did he. "Raven and I were friends, very close maybe even best of." Dane smirked amused at the notion. "I always wondered if he had spoken of me to you, but I can see clearly now he did not. That though was not by accident." He stood a distance away from Alena, ready to move if she charged. "He wished to keep me secret, a hidden weapon unknown to his enemies and allies. Watching his back ever vigilantly ready to intervene at a moment's notice. Perhaps it was a little paranoid, but I saw no dilemma with the task he wished for me, and so I watch I did. I watched when he spoke with his enemies, I watched when he spoke with his friends, I watched even when he would not have wished me to." He stepped forward gingerly. "So yes, I do know of your charms. I know more of you than you'd like. I know what his touch did to you." Dane smirked revealing his fangs. "I know how to make you feel like he did, but if you do not see me as a suitable replacement, I also know where you can find him."

[Alena Wulf]

Her ears exploded as shots from Dane's revolver rang out. At least one silver shot hit her, but Alena was far too focused on her attack to pause. Blocking Dane's swipe with his knife, Alena growled low. The Vampyre was too quick, and the Queen of Wolves found herself flying across the large foyer, through a wall to the next room over, and into the wall at the far end of the room. Debris fell from the ceiling and off the wall onto the embedded form of Alena.
Bringing one claw across to her stomach, and the other up to her shoulder, Alena fished around in her wounds for the bullets Dane had given to her. The one in her right shoulder came out easily, but the Wolf Mother had to dig deeper into her abs to pull the second shot out. She flicked the silver bullet aside, watching the Vampyre as he came closer. Was Dane coming on to her? It sure seemed like it.
Bracing, Alena pushed herself out of the crack in the wall, shaking rubble off her. A cloud of dust lifted off the Werewolf and surrounded her like an aura as she stood tall.
So, Dane had been the presence surrounding Raven during his last few centuries of their liaisons. Alena supposed she shouldn't be surprised; Raven had become paranoid in his age, particularly about the possibility of a coup within the ranks of the Vampyres below him. His paranoia had become a self-fulfilling prophecy, as Viktor, Raven's second in command, had risen up against him, ultimately bringing the Vampyre King to his end. Where had Dane been then? The quality of company Alena's lover had chosen to surround himself with had decreased in the Vampyre's last centuries. That was, perhaps, Alena's fault.
Still, it explained a lot. The feeling of something else watching as Alena melted into Raven's body, falling into his touch. Someone observing every cry and arch she couldn't help but make. Ever watchful eyes as the nights were spent fighting smaller battles, away from the races they had dragged into bloodshed. Raven would maker her pay for her transgressions each night they spent together, and still leaving her craving his touch, needing his presence on those days spent alone.
One did not love a spawn of Hell and come out unscathed, however. For centuries after the war started, Raven tormented her. When he grew bored with breaking her bones, burning the hair from her body, and bleeding her to the brink of death, he would choose one of her lovers to break in front of her. The moment he ran his hand through her hair, though, his nails over her scalp, all was forgiven. The agony the Vampyre King had put her through; all those years of bloodshed, so many children lost, living on the brink of sanity through Raven's games of torture. The nightly anguish, emotional, mental and physical, it all meant nothing when Raven loved her. The years after his murder had not been easy for the Mother of Lycanthropy. Never had Alena grieved so hard and for so long as she did for the loss of her King. How was she meant to continue without him? She'd had frequent thoughts of dying; things would never be the same again. Seven years later, things had hardly improved. Living without him had proven to be the true torture. Her heart ached to have him near, and her body cried out to feel his passion; how he'd take her whether she wanted it or not, and always leave her begging for more.
Thinking about this brought a very real, physical pain to her chest. Szandor's mental warning did little to help her and for a moment Alena actually forgot her purpose here. She wanted to take Dane up on his offer, though she knew no one could duplicate Raven's touch, the way his fingers would send chills down her body. Maybe, though, he would send her back to Raven. She knew exactly where to find him: the same place she was damned to go to when she died. The thought excited her. For a brief moment, Alena considered shifting down to her Human form, climbing out of the rubble to meet Dane and take what she wanted from him. There are easier ways to win my love, Dane, and quicker ways to get in my bed. That was not what this Vampyre was truly after, though, Alena figured as her senses came back to her.
There was something about Dane's grin, something about the way his fangs glinted bright in the darkness that was deviously familiar. In many way, Dane did remind Alena of the late Vampyre King. She hesitated for the shortest moment reflecting on that. If Alena was truly the bigger game, Dane would forgive her for ripping out his heart and eating it. Approaching the Vampyre calmly, Alena peered down at Dane. They both had sustained a multitude of wounds; Alena was bleeding from her arms, and where the silver bullets had pierced her. Yet her energy had not yet faltered. Dane, too, seemed unshaken from their confrontation.

[Dane]

He eyed Alena curiously as the wolf approached. His words did not seem to have the affect he believed they would. The vampire expected anger, he expected to be attacked, and though trying to read a werewolf's facial expression often proved fruitless he believed she would not strike at him. And then she spoke. Her words would have normally brought a smirk to his face, but Dane was already grinning. Was she really considering his offers? It appeared that way, or was she simply playing him for the fool, hoping to lower his defenses before lunging at him for the easy kill. He would not be caught so easily off guard."Perhaps, but you must admit the lengths I've gone to bring you into my home is certainly flattering. We all crave a little attention, and now I have yours." Dane only wished one thing from Alena, that was to see her corpse rotting at the bottom of a watery grave. He did not desire her. Though the thought of bedding the mother of lycanprothy; easily earth's most feared being was entertaining and would be rather large insult to injury before he took her life. Of course it was not necessary and he would not allow anything to jeopardize his plans. He saw what Alena and Raven's love did to another. Though immortality took a toll on everybody's sanity, they were madder than most. The fact that Alena considered the offers of a man who had killed her kin, kidnapped her lieutenant and turned Lucia against her was proof of that. He boldly stepped forward, staring up at the hulking form in front of him. "Of course it was not all for you. My people demanded retribution. You took something from me, I had to respond. Such is war." He cleared his throat. " However, we do not need to continue things this way. I am not him. I have no desire to see everything you care for burn. My only ambition is to rule this world. I can share," He stated bluntly "and I know of no being more fit to rule alongside me. If you rather be reunited with Raven. I'd just as soon see you out of the picture." The vampire rested his arms on his sides as he spoke. Right now he was improvising, he truly did not know what to expect from his enemy. "I do not see the appeal in an eternal hellscape, no matter the company. This.. "He gestured around him. "is a much better alternative, and you may not believe it, but you do not need to be alone. We are the last of a kind. We can rule this world together, like the gods we truly are. Save it from man and their destructive ways. Together we would have nothing to fear. As a token of my good faith I have a gift for you. I can not say if it will make you feel whole again, but I have kept track of Viktor's whereabouts and I know for a fact vengeance can be satisfying."

[Alena Wulf]

((Co-conspired by Szandor and Alena))

What on earth was she doing?
Roaring furiously in the face of one young Vampire, Szandor dispatched with another, sending the corpse flying across the front room to crash into the far wall. Annia! Using his Mistress' birth name was not something the Lycan did lightly. He'd only called Alena by her first name twice before; in the past it had worked to get her attention. He only hoped she would listen now. Strike him down, now! He was also not in the habit of giving his Alpha orders. His thoughts came through perhaps a bit more desperate than he wanted. This was a crucial moment though, if Dane was killed now, the Vampires would have nothing. They would be at the weakest they've been in millennia. With no one to lead them, every Vampire would be on their own; there would be no one left capable enough to challenge the Lycan Queen. The war would be over. 'Peace' could be negotiated with the remaining Vampire scum and the only thing his Mistress would have to worry about would be Geoff's pathetic rebellion, which Szandor planned on handling swiftly enough. Finally, a moment of rest appeared to loom on the horizon, if only Alena would take it. Let Dane talk on and on as long as he wanted, but for heaven's sake, don't listen to him; strike!

Alena stood her ground as Dane stepped toward her, meeting her in the middle of the destroyed room. He was close enough to touch now, close enough to feel his breath on her fur as he spoke. It smelled of decay, as was wont to happen when the only reason a person like Dane needed to breathe was for speaking. The Mother of Lycanthropy had always been a little different from her kin, never really feeling the aversion to Vampyres that others, especially those born or turned after the war started, felt. Yet, there was something about Dane... Though he reminded her in some ways of Raven, he was not her late love, and never would be. It was hard to understand why Alena had paused at Dane's offer, why she'd considered it instead of ripping the Vampyre to dust. Listening to Dane, though, his words sounded sweet. Hadn't she once also wanted the same thing?
Szandor's message to her did catch her attention. Only Raven had continued to call her Annia after she'd become a Werewolf; Szandor had overheard the name and taken to it centuries after everyone else knew her as Alena. To this day, though, it conjured a longing for her dead lover. As if she needed any more reason to feel so. Hearing that name, now, made her angry; she was no longer that person, and Szandor knew better; but Dane continued talking. The Vampyre King couldn't hear the thoughts transferred from Szandor, so he continued his diatribe, bringing Alena's attention back to him with one word. You truly are generous with your gifts, Alena spoke to the Vampyre's mind. She could barely contain her rage now; her hate for Viktor was almost matched by her love for Raven, and seemed to burn just as bright. Adjusting her massive shoulders and neck, the Lycan Queen barely contained a growl as she sent the next thought to Dane, Where's Viktor. No, she didn't -need- this Vampyre to locate Viktor. She could, and eventually would, weed out where the rat had run to, but things would be so much easier without the running around part on her end. She would personally see to it that Dane divulged his information, no matter what kind of persuasion was necessary; she would beat, tease, or hypnotize until she knew exactly what she wanted to know. In her eyes, a hunger grew, and her muscles tensed. She knew just how satisfying revenge could be.

The only thing holding Szandor back now where two last Vampires. It looked like their resolve was beginning to fade after having witnessed the slaughter of hundreds of their brethren at the claws of this Lycan. Yet, they did not back down, probably because their King was so near. All the more reason for him to add to the pile of corpses strewn about outside and within the mansion.
The last two Vampires proved to be no more challenging than the hundreds before them. As the last carcass fell to the floor, Szandor looked across the lobby to the hole in the wall where Alena had crashed through. He could just see Dane's back where he stood among the rubble. His Mistress hadn't responded to him or given any other orders, so Szandor prepared to fulfill his duty to the Pack and its Alpha. He knew his Queen had not been well since Raven's death, but was she seriously considering the companionship of this megalomaniac? You are not alone, my Queen.
While Dane's attention appeared to be on Alena, Szandor took the opportunity to charge the Vampire King. He was not as fast as his Mistress, but he hoped the Vampire's conversation with Alena would keep Dane distracted enough. The Lycan's muscles rippled as he galloped on all fours toward the Vampire. As he approached, Szandor stood back on hind legs, wrapping his large arms around the Vampire across his neck and stomach to rend Dane open.

[Dane]

Dane kept his eyes locked on Alena's as he spoke; looking for the slightest reactions to his words, an insight into her mind. Was she truly considering what came out of his mouth? Or did the she-wolf simply humor him while waiting for the vampire to lower his guard and maul him to death. It proved to be of little avail, that is until he mentioned Viktor. You truly are generous with your gifts, At first he believed her words to be mockery. His gifts were a little more than a rambling attempt to make Alena shift back into her humanoid form. A form in which against him he stood no chance. The spark in her eyes said otherwise. Where's Viktor. He was given a glimpse at true rage and pain. She had truly loved Raven and truly wished to know of Viktor's whereabouts so she could destroy him. It was almost a little humorous to the vampire. How could a being so powerful leave themselves so vulnerable? Years of immortality had desensitized Dane. The vampire doubted he even had the ability to display any sort of affection. Was Raven the same as he? Did he truly care for Alena or was she simply his favorite plaything over the ages?

The vampire relaxed in his stance. Folding his arms he shifted his weight onto one leg. Though he appeared to be oblivious to the fight transpiring behind him, that was far from the truth. Like any of his race his senses were superior. As King they were more so than most. Every move Szandor made was revealed to Dane. Either through the weight of the lycan's steps or the shift in the air as he struck. Very shortly the lycan would be coming for him, Dane noted mentally. "I'm more than happy to share my knowledge, but I expect something in return... a sign of your trust." He eyed her cautiously. Certainly she would understand that there was little stopping her from tearing him into two after divulging the information he needed. At least he hoped she would see it that way, rather this his true intention; tricking her into shifting to her weaker form.

Szandor was truly ambitious to believe he was capable of catching The Vampire King off-guard, especially in his own home. As the lycan charged the mansion shook violently. It was already on the verge of collapse and Alena's lieutenant was a truly powerful entity. Quickly Dane spun, powerfully kicking at Alena while turning to face his enemy as it rose on its hind legs.. The vampire's eyes zeroed in on Szandor's wound, and he struck with all the strength he possessed. He pounded his fist not against the wound, but into it. The vampire pushed his arm deep into the lycan's chest, reaching to rip its still beating heart out of the beast.

[Lucia Drusa Severa]

I hope to cross paths with you again.

Pablo's thoughts entered Lucia's mind like a warm fire on a cold night. Unlike her mother's mental probing, which was abrupt and unwelcome. Pablo's words were friendly, personal and genuine. The buzzing in her head from the high-pitched noise Xhel emitted earlier seemed to dissipate as the Lycan spoke to her mind. All the queasiness left and for a moment, even her stab wound didn't hurt as much.

As Xhel and Pablo descended the remaining flights of stairs, Lucia looked after the Lycan, holding her gut with one hand. She hoped to see him again too, on better terms, though. As the duo made their way down to the ground floor, Lucia stood where she was, resting half her weight against the bannister, lost in thought. While the discomfort and dizziness had left, the Hybrid was left confused. Her whole life, though not the easiest or most conventional, Lucia had known who she was: she was the daughter of the two most powerful beings on Earth. She was destined for great things; strength, power, leadership, respect and fear from those around her, because everyone else around her were beneath her. Her pedigree was pure, and because of this (and how her father groomed her), she only knew how to take. Her childhood could not be compared to any Human's life, but this was all she knew, and she knew it well.

Now, though, in this very moment, Lucia had reservations about her actions the last few days. Pablo's empathy and sincere actions stopped the girl in her tracks. How cold had she been, had her childhood been, that a single hug could melt her so? Part of her wanted that warmth to last; wanted to follow after Pablo and leave with him, make sure he got away safely, and learn from him.

That thought, though, didn't linger long, however. The mansion shook violently, bringing the girl back to her senses. Dane was downstairs dealing with her mother. That thought should have perhaps made Lucia more concerned, yet the girl couldn't seem to be phased too much. Dane was her father's closest advisor for centuries, and had been prominent in Lucia's life during her time with her father; he was looking out for her. As far as her mother was concerned, well, she was the Queen of Lycans, she couldn't have held that title for so long for no reason. She could handle herself.

As the building shook, pictures fell from the walls, and the stairs beneath the girl trembled. Lucia knew what she had to do, and made her way down the stairs to the lobby. As remnants from her childhood fell from the walls and ceiling around her, the Hybrid was the picture of composure. Descending the stairs, one hand holding the stab wound in her stomach, the other just barely touching the railing, Lucia stared directly in front of her. Debris seemed to fall around her, never in her path.

Four flights of stairs Lucia calmly walked down while the mansion around her fell apart. As she reached the ground floor, it became abundantly clear why the building was shaking so violently. Bodies littered the foyer, which was completely destroyed by holes in the wall and fixtures broken. It looked like the front door had been ripped off its hinges and a new 'doorway' had been created for one of the adjacent rooms. The smell of death hung heavily in the air, and it excited the girl.

As Lucia took the last stair, her bare feet settling lightly on the ground floor, she watched Szandor charge. She watched his actions in slow motion, detached from the situation. The blood in her mouth soured and from Lucia's point of view, the Lycan who'd cared for her seemed to be running straight to his death, not for an attack. Dane spun with an incredible speed, striking Szandor in the chest. While positioned behind the Lycan, Lucia could clearly see the impact.

[Szandor Colden]

Szandor was so close to the Vampire king that the bat's hair tussled subtly as the Lycan breathed down in anticipation. The Werewolf could feel the dense, cold of Dane's lifeless body in front of him; could practically feel the flesh of his enemy ripping in his paws. Until Dane turned. With incredible speed, the Vampire spun around, facing the beast that was Szandor, and forced his arm into the wolf's chest. What started out as a small, yet irritated, hole from a silver bullet, immediately accommodated the Vampire's arm. The strength of Dane's thrust aimed at the wound Szandor incurred earlier in the evening was devastating. The Vampire's arm ripped through the entry hole to the Lycan's ribcage and to his heart.
Despite this, vaguely in the background, Szandor picked up the sounds and scent of Pablo and Xhel making their way quickly out of the ruined mansion. Soon after that, the faintest trace of Lucia could be smelled. Szandor could not pick up the light sound of the Hybrid's foot falls from across the lobby with the blood rushing in his ears, but he knew the scent of his adopted daughter anywhere. With everyone they'd come for so close at hand, and hundreds of Vampires dead, it was time to go. While Dane's full attention was on Szandor, the Lycan hoped he could secure his mistress' departure.
The next few moments passed in the span of days for Alena's consort. If felt like the cold hands of death were literally gripped around his heart. The force of Dane's arm entering his chest lifted the Werewolf off his hind paws. Szandor gripped the Vampire's arm with one large, clawed hand, giving one last deep swipe at Dane's neck. Looking beyond Dane, Szandor's gaze met his Queen's briefly. LEAVE N...!!! The thought was never finished, and the light in the Werewolf's eyes faded. The massive Werewolf went limp and shrunk as Dane pulled his arm out, taking with it the Lycan's heart. Turning back to his Human form, Szandor began to fall, but he would never fully hit the ground. In the blink of an eye, the body that had contained Szandor's essence through the centuries decomposed rapidly. Fingers and toes were the first to completely wither and turn to dust, but his entire body quickly became nothing more than a pile of ash on the floor. Even the heart Dane held in his hands decayed quickly, falling through the Vampire's fingers like sand.

[Alena Wulf]

The Mother of Lycanthropy almost found herself laughing in anger and disbelief. Dane truly expected her to offer a sign of trust? Like Hell. Though Alena was asking information of this Vampyre, that didn't mean she would let her guard down, much less take anything he were to divulge with anything more than a grain of salt. Even if the information he were to give were completely accurate, every precaution would be taken to ensure the safety of the Den as well as the assassination party for Viktor. I'm afraid you'll just have to take me at my word, Dane.
As Szandor charged the new Vampyre King, Alena kept her rage-filled eyes on Dane, watching her consort only in her periphery. Alena gave no notion of what her second in command might be up to. Unfortunately for Szandor, his actions were not even remotely subtle.
The Queen of Werewolves easily dodged the kick Dane sent toward her, batting it aside as if it were nothing more than an annoying fly. Alena's dodge was so easy and light-hearted, she was expecting her lover to emulate her maneuver. Instead, Dane's attack hit Szandor. Hard. Alena's arrogance wouldn't let her believe the hit was fatal at first; but her companion's desperate order getting cut short hit the Wolf Mother hard. The sudden loss of life, the loss of Lycan life, was all too clear and familiar for Alena, whose telepathic bond was strong with Szandor. It felt very nearly like it was her heart Dane was ripping out.
It took every bit of will the Lycan Queen had to heed Szandor's wishes and go, instead of turn her claws and teeth on this Vampyre while his back was turned. She could feel her consort's intentions with the short message he got through, though. Xhel and Pablo had made it out alive and Lucia had come down as well. It was more important to ensure these lives now, than to re-engage Dane and possibly lose everything she'd gained. The decision did not sit well with Alena at all; this was one of the hardest actions she's ever had to take in her many years. Yet, the best thing she could do for Szandor now was to honor his dying request and flee now with her kin and kith safe at hand.
The centuries had allowed Alena a sense of clarity in crises, and though she did not realize it in the thick of things, it had saved her life on more than one occasion. Alena's resolve hardened in the quickest of moments. The second Szandor's thought cut off, the second he began to decay, Alena bolted. Bounding onto all fours in her monstrous Lycan form, the Queen of Wolves darted through the hole in the wall, quickly over to her daughter who was standing at the base of the stairs. Grabbing Lucia firmly, Alena wrapped her claws around the girl's skinny arms, Come, Lucia!
Throughout the altercation, Lucia Drusa Severa had remained still, holding her wound, standing slightly awestruck at what was transpiring. Though the girl's posture and expression remained stoic, she didn't feel she'd been fully prepared to witness the death of anyone she knew this night, especially not Szandor. The girl found herself inexplicably sad, yet salivating at the same time. She watched her mother approach her calmly, but visibly recoiled when the giant wolf laid hands on her. "Get your paws off of me!" Easily, Lucia threw her mother's mighty claws off her, crossing her arms defiantly.
It took an instant for Alena to determine her daughter's intentions, and she growled hatefully at her, speaking out loud in her grizzled, Lycan voice, "Fool Girl." The Mother of Lycanthropy wasted no more time with Lucia and flew out the mansion's front entrance like a wolf out of Hell, sprinting through the forest as fast and hard as her legs would carry her. Purposefully avoiding Pablo and Xhel's path on the chance Dane might pursue her, Alena ran across the side of the building, to the back, and straight out through the acres of woods to the nearest city block.
Only once reaching the city did she slow her pace, shifting down to her Human form. The night was still young, people would just be leaving the city from a night of drinking; and sure enough, as Alena rounded the corner of a building, a few people were staggering out to their cars or hailing taxis. A couple people gasped and backed away as the Lycan Mother approached, naked and covered in the blood of her enemy, as well as her own. A few yards away, a middle-aged man who appeared oblivious to the Lycan fumbled with his keys, standing in front of a 20 year old car, talking to himself under his breath. In a few long strides, Alena was upon the man, digging her short, Human nails into his shoulder, bringing him closer. While barely even looking at this stranger or listening to his protests, Alena chomped into the man's neck, tearing open an artery with her canines, and pushing him down. If he didn't bleed out and die, he would become a Werewolf and die soon after in this city filled with Vampyres. His fate concerned her in no way.
Someone in the near distance shrieked, and the other people present scattered quickly. Grabbing at his neck, the man dropped his keys and fell to the ground, choking on his own blood. Catching the keys in mid air with her right hand, Alena slid the fingers of her left hand into the cracks of the car door, forcing it open. In moments, the Lycan Queen was peeling down the street, navigating the city wildly. Her destination mattered not; she just needed to get away as far North as she could, then she could worry about getting off this God-forsaken island and back to Sweden.

((Co-conspired by Lucia and Alena.))

Things had not exactly gone as planned. True, though Alena never like setting plans in stone, the events of the night could have gone better. A lot better.
She was still in the heart of Vampyre activity, but she was on her way out. She still had strength left to fend off thousands of the Undead denizens if it came down to it. Yet the Vampyre problem was not at the forefront of her mind right now. As far as she was concerned, she was scott-free; they posed no immediate threat to her. No, right now her thoughts were on her Packmates and her family.
Reaching out with her mind, Alena searched for Pablo's mental signature. Without using actual words, the Mother of Lycanthropy sent a thought to her lieutenant; one of feeling. Her message was disturbingly calm and supportive. It resonated with love and good will: You made it - it suggested. Very few people, and fewer Lycans had survived that cell in Raven's mansion, but Pablo had. For the young Werewolf, Alena had nothing but pride, and she sent a sliver of that feeling to him. She did not bother demanding his presence immediately; she knew they would meet again soon enough.
With that message sent, Alena's moment of clarity began to fade. Something stung in her eyes, and the Lycan Queen realized she must have been crying. This realization stirred something deep within her, and without fully processing it, the Mother of Lycanthropy burst out cackling. Pure, unhindered laughter came forth from the depths of her being, feeding itself on her sorrow. Driving out of the city, Alena continued to howl with laughter. Her daughter had scorned her; her bodyguard and consort for thousands of years had been murdered before her eyes, and Alena laughed all the way out of London.

[Xhel]

Xhel jumped the final few steps of stairs, clinging onto his cousin tightly as they landed he immediately broke into a sprint towards the exit. His vision tunneled in on the hole where the door once stood. Running right by Alena and Dane as they conversed in the room over, for a moment he wrestled with Pablo who at the sight of the Vampire King began to struggle to break free. She needs me! The hunter grimaced as the lycan spoke directly into his mind, telepathy had always pained the human, but despite that he pushed forth; he had not escaped this mansion years ago to only return in a rescue mission and perish. Offering little more than a glance towards the new vampire king. Stepping through the hole outside the hunter smiled slightly, freedom for both of them. Still though he did not stop running, instead he continued into the woods. He glanced down at his relative, who to Xhel should have been smiling, instead Pablo stared back grimly. "What's wrong?" Xhel finally froze dead in his tracks. At this point they would have been aware of any pursuit. "I smell lycan blood." The lycan replied quietly as he was lowered onto his feet. "Szandor's.... and lots of it." He added while looking down at the dirt. Xhel sighed knowing what the lycan meant, and what thoughts were running through his head. There was nothing he could say at the moment that would comfort him. Nor did he need to. The lycan was headstrong and at this point in his life very familiar with war. He knew the consequences, the risk, and had already seen many of his brethren fallen. He could cope with dead far better than the hunter; they both knew that to be fact, and instead of letting it drag him down, the lycan would use Szandor's sacrifice to fuel his drive."Come, I need to show you something." He placed a hand on Pablo's shoulder and guided him forward. For now Xhel knew something that would temporarily lift Pablo's spirits. As they moved through the woods, and approached the long winding street that eventually led to the vampire's den; Xhel disappeared behind a set of trees.

Pablo stood motionless staring at the bark of the tree in front of him. My pack... Szandor Their escape had felt like a blur; unreal and hazy. Just like his past few days, dreamlike. Except this was far from a dream, a nightmare was more accurate. Only a week ago he was in Sweden celebrating the victory in Rome with his brethren. That all seemed so far away, the den in Rome was destroyed, rebellion had split the pack into two, and now the Queen's Right Hand was dead. It was almost funny how quickly things could change. For a moment he almost chuckled, before nausea overcame him. He would never see Szandor again; his friend and brother in arms. The young lycan always felt the two were kindred spirits. Both devoutly loyal to The Pack, both capable of seeing the bigger picture. Like all lycans they were connected mentally, his presence was once almost ignorable, but now as he reached out there was only emptiness. It would have been easy to blame himself and though to some extent the lycan already had there was a residual feeling that this was not his faul . He was not there to fight alongside his den, and Szandor had died in an attempt to rescue him as a result of being captured, but would have things played out differently? Did it matter that he was not with his den mates, if Dane had the strength to kill Szandor even with his presence his pace would have certainly fallen, even with alongside them. And then thee was Lucia. They had not come not only for him. She had chosen to side with Dane and forsake the pack. Lucia, his head ached as he thought of Alena's daughter. Dane had known her since she was a child, and had very much played her like one. The thought sent a chill down his spine. The enemy was meticulous and patient. An immortal who didn't mind waiting, quietly hidden from sight. It was scary to ponder.

The lycan's train of thought was broken by the revving of an engine. He stood alert, quickly realizing it was Xhel. He poked his head out from behind three tree, wiping a single tear from his eye. His cousin sat waiting on a motorcycle; a side cart attached. "Let's go." The hunter stated simply. The lycan obliged quickly jumping into the cart with a smile. For a moment he searched inbetween his feet. "I think you-" He glanced upwards to his sole relative smirking while he held out a pair of aviator goggles. "Good." The lycan smiled brighter snatching the eye ware from his cousin's hands and pulling the band on over his head. "Let's get the hell out of here."