It takes Daniel a second to notice the red on Armand's face. Tears. His reddened eyes aren't just from increasingly erratic moments of stress; the vampire has been earnestly crying. Dread and adrenaline slice through him, realizing, and Armand watches him realize, and reaches to hold his face in his hands.
"Wait," Daniel says, but Armand doesn't.
He doesn't know how to scramble for Louis. His pulse kicks up, a surge of panic, Armand looming close, so close, and then—
Nothing, because Armand kicks Louis out.
It doesn't take long. Daniel's surprised. Doesn't know why. With the right injury, an adult human can bleed to death in a matter of minutes. This isn't getting stuck in the thigh and left to bleed out, though, and so minute becomes hours, for the whole ordeal. Which is still too short a span of time for Louis to search all of Venice and find him. But what would he do? Interrupt? Does it even work when it's half and half, the whole way? Or would Daniel just not take? He thinks about it, staring at a baroque ceiling in need of restoration; he thinks of not taking. But there's nothing for it. Armand is too old, too powerful. It takes like a sharp knife sinking in through the softest flesh, inescapable, smooth, fatal.
In the end, Armand just turns his phone on and texts Louis an address.
He leaves Daniel alone, barricaded in a bedroom, with several mortals waiting in the lounge area. Docile and glassy, they sit obediently where they've been told, no thoughts in their heads. Sacrifices as his last goodbye to a fledgling he hadn't even been able to look in the eye after.
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"Wait," Daniel says, but Armand doesn't.
He doesn't know how to scramble for Louis. His pulse kicks up, a surge of panic, Armand looming close, so close, and then—
Nothing, because Armand kicks Louis out.
It doesn't take long. Daniel's surprised. Doesn't know why. With the right injury, an adult human can bleed to death in a matter of minutes. This isn't getting stuck in the thigh and left to bleed out, though, and so minute becomes hours, for the whole ordeal. Which is still too short a span of time for Louis to search all of Venice and find him. But what would he do? Interrupt? Does it even work when it's half and half, the whole way? Or would Daniel just not take? He thinks about it, staring at a baroque ceiling in need of restoration; he thinks of not taking. But there's nothing for it. Armand is too old, too powerful. It takes like a sharp knife sinking in through the softest flesh, inescapable, smooth, fatal.
In the end, Armand just turns his phone on and texts Louis an address.
He leaves Daniel alone, barricaded in a bedroom, with several mortals waiting in the lounge area. Docile and glassy, they sit obediently where they've been told, no thoughts in their heads. Sacrifices as his last goodbye to a fledgling he hadn't even been able to look in the eye after.