hand - to - hand combat was something enrico was seasoned in. before settling in new york city, he was practically always carrying a sword and had the knowledge of multiple styles of european swordsmanship to back it up. tomas had to have known that he was taking a massive risk and the constant taunts only proved enrico’s advantage; tomas only believed he could be victorious if he caught enrico off guard. unfortunately for tomas, even while enrico’s blood was boiling, he still was aware of even the slightest movement, the slightest position change. a single shift of tomas’s weight and the italian knew exactly when he would lunge.
both vampires were incredibly fast, but it was over in a heartbeat. tomas’s attack had left him with a vulnerable opening and enrico seized it. with a sickening snap of bone, he grabbed tomas’s wrist and snapped hard, forcing him to drop his switchblade. in the same second, he slammed the full force of his weight against tomas with his dagger piercing straight through tomas’s shoulder into the wooden floorboards beneath them. enrico restrained himself just enough from landing a fatal blow — forcing the sharp metal less than an inch above his heart. fangs gleaming with spittle, enrico loomed over him, eyes burning with rage. ❝ i gave you a chance. you’ll find that the council of elders won’t be so merciful when i deliver you to them. ❞
he drove the dagger in further, until only the hilt was visible above tomas’s flesh. the wooden floor crunched and splintered as the razor-sharp tip drove further in. and perhaps to add a little more insult to injury, his other hand tightened mercilessly around tomas’s freshly broken wrist, cracking the bones even more. ❝ you are absolute scum, tod. your brother is too trusting to see it, but i’ve always known what a monster you are. how kind of you to finally reveal that. ❞
It was a blink of the eye. A swift moment when everything was decided.
Tomas had underestimated Enrico, a brute, yes. But perhaps not as stupid as he’d thought. And that underestimation had left him pinned down to the floor with both the weight of the vampire and the dagger embedded in his shoulder.
The Englishman gritted his teeth, determined not to show any sign of pain. The dagger sank deeper, going through bone into the floor beneath him. He could feel blood starting to pool under his back, soaking through his clothing.
Even if his wrist was broken, he wasn’t about to give up. If he did, all the careful planning and work he’d done would be for nothing.
And he wasn’t about to let that happen, he’d been carefully working for centuries to bring this plan to fruition. And he wasn’t about to let this end here.
But he had to play his cards right, at this state, he couldn’t do much. But even still, he was at a physical disadvantage.
“Call me a monster all you want, but have you ever stopped to think about our situation.” Tomas started to reach up and rip the dagger out.
“we’re hiding away like mice in the darkness. We’re powerful, we’re predators, yet we act like prey. It’s disgraceful.” he sneers, “to live like a coward, hiding away from creatures we could kill with the flick of a wrist.” Tomas glanced around, eyes searching for one of the patrons who decided they wouldn’t leave, despite the obvious signs of a confrontation.
All it would take was a little telepathy and he could have enough distraction to get away.
“and I intend to change all of that.”
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