Fuck, Alaric can’t you control your temper even this once? I don’t know if I can make it to you in time.

Sol started moving at the same time as Alaric, leaping from the rooftop. Alaric crossed the distance to the aged watchman before the thralls could react. He threw a heavy right hand into the man’s jaw, dropping to the ground. The watchman scrambled to his knees while cowering, reaching up to touch the blood leaking from his lips. He looked toward the full-blood in wide-eyed terror.

The vampire glanced at the man with annoyance, gesturing in signal to the escort. A pair of thralls approached the watchman and hauled him to his feet between them. The remaining two warily advanced on the angered Alaric. Sol was getting closer, sprinting at supernatural speed from two blocks down the street. Alaric wasn’t intimidated by their actions, raising his fists in preparation for a fight.

The full-blood made its move, closing the distance between Alaric in a blink. Alaric’s eyes widened in surprise, in front of his throat less than an inch away, the full-blood vampire’s elongated claws hung suspended. Sol had arrived in time to intercept the vampire’s attack, catching its wrist in midair. The full-blood reacted with indignation as it turned to look at Sol.

“I knew I could smell a filthy corpse-drinker. The thirst has obviously driven you to madness for you to challenge me for my chattel. You should have remained slinking in the shadows. I had more pressing concerns than dealing with you. But it’s too late for that now. I will tear your head from your shoulders in a shower of blood and mount it in my study,” the full-blood angrily hissed, launching Sol away.

Sol flew across the street to slam into the wall of a building with a loud crash. Brick and mortar crumbled from the impact, revealing the horrified occupants inside. Sol ignored their distress to focus on the full-blood speeding toward him. It moved faster than Sol could have ever imagined. It was already in front of him before he had extracted himself from the rubble, swiping a clawed hand toward his head.

How fast is this thing?!

Instinct honed from countless hours of drilling kicked in. Sol fell backward, reflectively snatching the hand aimed at his face and kicking upward to place his foot against the full-blood’s hip. The force of the vampire’s charge carried it over Sol’s centre of gravity. Utilising the momentum, Sol used his foot to sweep the full-blood over his head and land on top of it. He was now kneeling on its sternum with its claw held immobile by both his hands on its wrist. The full-blood was stunned with an expression of surprise.

Sol pulled the full-blood’s arm to full extension, wrapping one of his arms over it, locking it under his armpit. He let go of his other hand on the vampire’s wrist to unleash a savage punch into its jaw. Using gravity to his advantage, Sol punished the full-blood with a series of heavy punches, keeping it disorientated. Despite his brutality, the punches appeared ineffective against the full-blood. It quickly regained its bearings, yanking its arm out of his grip then bracing both hands on Sol’s hips. It effortlessly threw him into the ceiling, standing up in a fluid motion as Sol crashed to the floor in front of it.

Debris rained down from the ceiling as Sol pushed himself to his feet. The full-blood vampire regarded him with hostility as it brushed the dust from its extravagant clothing. Its appearance was dishevelled from Sol’s flurry of blows yet it had no obvious signs of injury.

Ouch, that really hurt. It feels like I’ve had a building fall on top of me. Wait, that’s pretty close to what actually happened. I don’t think I did much damage to the full-blood at all.

“You’re a tough bastard. I’ll give you that,” Sol praised, standing unsteadily while wiping blood from his mouth.

“As are you, corpse-drinker. You have impressed me. My name is Valamir. Before we continue, I would offer you an invitation to join Clan Sanguine. Otherwise, this will not end well for you,” Valamir introduced himself before removing his coat. He rolled up his sleeves to expose muscular forearms then unbuttoned the top of his white silk shirt. Up close, he had the appearance of an extremely attractive man in his prime.

“I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I will have to decline. I must admit that I’m not really much of a team player,” Sol wryly declined, loosening his shoulders before raising his fists defensively in preparation.

“That is unfortunate. I will not underestimate you again and that corpse blood has made you weak. Perhaps take refreshment from these snacks before we continue. That way you can depart with dignity. They have witnessed things they shouldn’t have and will need to be disposed of regardless. The nourishment of their blood will strengthen you but will do little to improve your odds against me. I advise that you accept my generous offer,” Valamir arrogantly stated, meticulously checking his claws for any blemishes. He gestured toward the pair of young lovers interrupted by their intrusion.

“I knew you full-bloods were egotistical, but I didn’t expect this level of conceit. This is a scrap, not a gentleman’s duel. Stop talking so much shit and let’s get this show on the road,” Sol replied, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Very well. As you wish,” Valamir declared.

Valamir moved with supernatural speed to tear out the throat of the female spectator. He pierced a clawed hand through her neck to grip her spine. Blood gurgled from her mouth as her lover cried out with bone-chilling anguish. The man recklessly charged at the full-blood in rage. Faster than Sol could react, Valamir retracted his hand from the woman’s neck then moved behind the man. He sank his fangs into the man’s exposed neck as the woman’s corpse crumpled to the floor.

The man futilely struggled, gripping at the arm draped around his neck in desperation. Valamir ignored the man’s scrambling to drain him of blood.