He made his way to the backyard in a rush, his legs taking him as fast as they could without actually having to run. He had felt her going outwards and had at first allowed her to be thinking that she needed her personal space. But then he had sensed the assassins, their auras were not similar and since they were closing in towards the garden, he knew it had to be an ambush.
Damn it, he should not have left her alone.
He stepped out in the fresh air and mushy garden grass to a sight that he was not ready for. Elle's hand was logged in an assassin's throat, entering through the front and exiting bloody and gore from the back. She was also quick to pull her arm back and duck down to avoid an attack that came from her behind, then coming up and delivering a fast kick to the man's groin, making him drop the knife that he was holding.
She was fast as a thunder, moving with an elegance even when she was fighting, and he would not put it past her to kill without a second thought, as she had already. She looked well trained and thoroughly experienced, and he was stalled in time as she went about defending herself. Her hair was moving all around with her, circling her body and flying in air as she moved. A sight to behold, something that he would never forget.
Part of not interfering in her fight was because he was bewitched by her, she was not moving, she was flowing on the grass, smooth as silk. Her movements calculated and determined, her hands strong as she picked up the knife and slashed through the throat of the fallen.
Another reason why he did not move was because she seemed to be doing fine on her own, licking the knife clean of the blood and looking another aggressor straight in his eyes, the dominant stare of a predator.
The man started running and she stood where she was, her cunning eyes noticing his leg movements and how his arms coordinated and just as he neared her, she moved to her left with such speed that even Damien's eyes could not keep track of her, and then she turned, the knife burring in the back of his throat. She was so unhesitant, so sure of her moves, meeting her enemy with clean and efficient movements rather than constantly moving and running.
She was breathtaking.
He was forced to move when he saw three of them emerging out of nowhere, running to her with weapons in their hands. A sneer curled his lips, his fangs descending and he moved to them with his preternatural speed, closing in on one from behind and twisting his head off his spine in one smooth move. Then he was on taking care of the other two.
She turned to him at the noise and her eyes locked with his, maintaining her stare he disposed off the last one. Her eyes were wide as she looked at him, her defenses lowered, her hands coming to rest by her sides as she looked away, gulping down a ball of what he knew was worry.
She was anxious of what he thought and the repercussions that would be following her warrior like killing.
He was frowning at the blood that she was covered in, although she was good in taking care of herself and a fighter of worth, he did not appreciate the gory and death that now decorated her delicately crafted body meant to be loved. He would rather see her safe and with no need to bring out the fighter in her.
Although he had lowered his hands, he was acutely aware of his surroundings, the painful screams that were giving off in the air and the movements of the bodies. Even the nervousness and fear that rediated off her, and it was quite amusing that she could kill with no regards but was fearing his reactions.
But as he neared her, he sensed it was more than her fear for any disciplinary penalty or judgement that he might impose on her. Her hands were shivering, she was gulping as if she was controlling herself, as if she wanted to devour something. Her breaths were deep, taking in the smell of blood that might've been nauseating to others but evidently tantalizing to her. And when she looked up, her eyes were crazed, her pupils dilated, her eyes moved to all those dead bodies on the ground, going over where the wounds were deeply inflicted in those aggressors. Her lips parted and she moved her tongue on them, then on her fangs that had made an appearance.
"You're thirsty." He said aloud for himself as he marvelled over how she reacted to the blood of her own kind, which vampires did not react to with hunger. He recalled Orion saying that he had once fed her. She was a miracle to him, an unprecedented rarity that bedazzled him.
She looked up at him as he spoke, her beautiful eyes staring into his own and then darting to his neck. Her gaze was locked on his jugular and she gulped again, taking a slow step in his direction, moving as if she had no control on her body, which typically happened when a vampire was blood starved.
Damien did not know what to feel about her, or how to react. All that he did know was that a crowd would surely gather in a matter of minutes and he could not allow the others to see her like this. They would burn her alive, if not worse.
He allowed her to walk to him, watching as her hands rose a little as if to gras his shoulders.
He frowned as he felt a change in the air, it warmed up behind her body, a change in dimensions of some sort, as if someone was intruding in the space and tampering with the time. A portal opening.
His eyes turned wide and he reached to her with his left hand, clutching the front of her dress and pulling her to him, his other hand raising up with the hunter knife that he had snatched just in time to amputate an arm that reached out for her out of nowhere.
As the arm fell to the ground and a scream resonated in the air without a source, his hand went around her waist in a possessively protective manner and drew her close to his body.
Someone was after her.
He had only a moment to ponder upon his reactions and how shaken he was at her being hurt or taken away from him, when he felt a firm, deep bite on his neck. He sucked in a breath, the sweet feeling of pleasure exploding at his neck and going down to his soul making him shudder out a breath. The harsh pulls of her mouth as she sucked in his blood was in fact everything contrary to what he had ever thought he might have felt.
The warmth and the movements of her tongue against his skin was driving him crazy, making him feel that he wouldn't mind if she drained him dry. He hardened in his pants, his hand which wasn't clutching her waist came to the back of her head, his fingers massaging her head in an encouragement. His hips rolled on their own as a groan left his mouth and his eyes shut close.
More. He wanted more of what she was doing to him.
But even through the haze of pleasure that was very similar to that of sex, and the feel of her arms that went around his waist, he heard the footsteps that were coming at them from inside. A curse left his mouth in a pant as he hated the interruption. He undid the clip that was in her hair and let it fall all over her face, covering what she was doing with that pretty little mouth of hers.
She was hungry, he would feed her. End of the matter. And if it was an act that he was enjoying on a very intimate level, all that much better.
He held her to his body with both his arms around her waist and turned to take her inside and behind closed doors for some privacy.
Now that he was concentrating on his surroundings a little to get them through, her sweet moans of pleasure and satisfaction rang out in his ear.
His fingers caressed her waist.
"Keep those sounds down if you don't want others to know." he whispered and as if she had gained control on er body, which thirsty vampires never did so early in a feeding, she nodded her head and her moans seized.
With that, he started walking to where he came out from.