Night's Omen

 [3:45 AM]

Daphne had just settled back on the couch in the lounge, looking forward to a few moments of silence. The night had been hectic - more so than usual. They'd had trauma patients left and right in the ER. A scary amount of fatal accidents - all unrelated, but strangely similar in their.. finite endings. Usually Daphne would be thrilled, because it would mean that she could pick up a few organs for study later, but she hadn't had time. She had been working side by side Dr. Batten all night, too, which was even more nerve-grinding, because she was wearing thin, and it was hard to keep her usual calm and icy demeanor with all of the shit hitting the fan like it had. It made her wonder what the hell was going on, but then again, sometimes the city was just violent.

 She must have drifted off, because she awoke to one of the other doctors coming in and turning on a small light at an end table. She sat up quickly, blinking rapidly and looking around. "What time is it?" she asked, reaching for a bottle of water she'd brought in with her. He nodded to the clock and Daphne glanced over at it, squinting from the haze of sleep. It read three forty-five. She stood up and stretched, then exited the room to head outside. It was still cold enough for her to shock the last of the sleep out of her system.

When she got to the roof, she noticed that a chair was already in place of the door they used so that they wouldn't have to call down for someone to let them in. She could see a figure standing near the edge of the building, and she narrowed her eyes a little, thrusting her hands into the pocket of her white coat. She could smell the faintest twinge of cigarette smoke; she was downwind, but far enough away for it to be almost missed.

"Dr. Batten," she called, greeting him as she made her way outside. She didn't make any move to stand next to him, since she'd been in his face all night. She hated working twenty-fours. She had until eight AM and then she was free, free to go home. She wanted to get back to her latest project, but at this rate, she was burning out fast and needed to sleep for a nice twelve hours before she did anything else.

She ended up not that far away from him, looking down over the edge of the impossibly tall hospital. She could hear the distant echoing of their life flight helicopter, estimating that it had taken off not long before she'd gotten up to the roof in the first place. It didn't surprise her.

"Unusually busy tonight," she commented, glancing sidelong at him. She itched to know what made him tick, but that would be hard to do without opening him up. A delicate fluttering over her head indicated the leathery wings of a bat, and she glanced up to watch it arc over the building and vanish into the black below the other side of the wall.

[4:00 AM]

Delia sat in the passenger seat of a black SUV in the hospital parking lot, listening to instruction via the speakerphone.

"I'm sending the file over now," the voice on the other line said. It was female, smooth; Delia didn't recognize it, but then, there were many people at Midnight that she did not know by name. She had only been told that there would be someone to hand tasks to her. So far, she and her team of sweepers had taken out their targets thus far - family members, mostly. This one was family, also, but an ex-hunter, and a good one.

Delia leaned back in the seat, watching the information come up on her computer screen. They'd commandeered an old police Tahoe with the swivel and LCD screen, and Delia had the pleasure of using the modified system Midnight had implemented. It made things a lot faster, and they could be updated instantly as she drove around, adding more information as they got it. Right now, it put his location in the hospital, but she was waiting for it to update as to where.

A beacon finally popped up within the schematic of the hospital that she'd had open on another application. She glanced back in the SUV at the three or four men who sat eagerly. Two were human, one was vampire, and one was a bat. "He was last seen on upper levels," she said. She narrowed her eyes at the text update. "Our insider says he probably went out for a cigarette, since we've been sending so many people in through there trauma center," she said with a smirk. "Anyways, that puts him near the roof, or any exterior exit near that." She nodded to the bat. "Go up for a look-see, but do not engage. I've got a very specific way I want to do this."

Delia turned back around and rested her feet on a briefcase that was discretely hidden on the floorboard.

The vampire opened the back door after the bat had shifted, and vanished into the dark, humid air of the winter twilight. There was a few minutes, and then he came back down, shifting once he'd positioned himself in the very back of the SUV where the guns were. "He's on the roof, plus one. Human, but don't know much else."

"Okay," Delia said, brows raised. "Copy that?"

"Kill as many as you need," the voice on the speaker said.

"On it," she said, snapping the gum in her mouth. "Over." She turned back to the men in the SUV, all now dressed in scrubs with descenting spray on them to mask their natural odors from possible shifters.

"You heard the lady," she said, jerking her thumb to the hospital. "Let's go."

As they all shuffled out of the SUV, arming themselves aptly, Delia stepped out with the briefcase in hand. "Floor by floor. We have our list of targets. Make sure all of them are dead, and the ones not in critical need to be loaded up into standby vehicles and taken back to Midnight."

"What about Batten?" the vampire asked.

Delia smiled. "I've got a special treat for him. In the meantime, you've got fifteen minutes to get everyone and everything you need. After that, you are no longer my problems." She delayed at the SUV and watched them go.

Victor had noticed the problem with the trauma victims coming in even before Chase had called him, frantic and insisting he leave immediately, but that was because he knew too many of the hunters that he'd treated in the guild infirmaries in the past.  He was busy and rushed, but he didn't miss the pattern that suggested that people somehow related to hunters were suddenly having utterly horrible, and usually fatal, accidents.  He was not stupid enough to think that they were actual accidents, which was exactly why he kept trying to get away for a second to call his nephew, but every time he stole a few seconds to try, someone new came in and he was dragged away to deal with a new soon-to-be dead body.  He'd never had so many die under his hands in a single night (or week, or possibly even month) as tonight, and though he was probably the best equipped to deal with it, it was starting to drive him a little wild.  The surgeons, doctors and nurses that weren't quite so good at what they did and dealing with the bad were starting to unravel.  It didn't help that they were also working non-stop for hours, and he was frankly surprised with Daphne.  Not that he hadn't thought she could cut it, but she was holding up amazingly well with the pressure, constantly in his space but helping rather than pissing him off.  That was an increasingly difficult job to manage as the hours passed.

He finally found a moment to breathe well after Daphne had been replaced by a not-so-talented woman older than her who spent just as much time in Victor's space and had him wanting to snap on her by the time someone else rushed in to grab him and tell him that if he didn't take this phone call from his niece now, the woman was going to lose it.  Since he was ready to lose it himself and this was the first anyone had actually gotten to him about phone calls, he tore his gloves off and stomped off, leaving the other surgeon to step in.  He needed the chance to step away if the veins starting to pop in his forehead were any indication, but the phone call really didn't help.  He'd always known Chase to be pretty level, and she was more off-kilter than he'd ever heard her.

"Chase, calm down.  Talk slowly, tell me what's happening."

"Midnight is attacking, Victor.  Families are dying, ours included, and I haven't heard from Connor since my first call with him.  I saw him dying in his house, and he was there when I talked to him.  You don't think...no, wait.  I called everyone I could think of, and not everyone's answering.  Jon and I are at Crimson, trying to make sense of this mess, but it's practically impossible.  Half of the people here are leaving to go try to get family that aren't combatants or aren't responding to attempts to reach them, and the other half are a mix of people that we can't get in touch with and who don't know what to do with themselves.  We're getting hit from all sides, and the same is going on with Frost and Onyx," she explained, and he gave her credit for pushing through her concern for her brother.

"Kenzie?  Your parents?  Darren and his?"

"Kenzie's at Onyx with Rafael, Indra and Dev.  She's safe, Zaine made sure of it the instant he was alerted, and Darren's still at the Hollow.  Ash is there, and apparently, they're mobbed.  It sounds like all of the supernatural hangouts are, and the only thing we can think is that there are people trying to scope places out.  Darren's about as safe as he can be.  I spoke to Mom and Dad, who are supposed to be on the move, and I called Darren's parents, too.  Like I said, everyone I can think of.  Not too many have arrived here, though.  I'm worried."

"Your mother and father, have they arrived?"

There was a hesitation that he didn't quite understand, but she responded a second later.  "No."  Well, that settled it, then.

"I'll try to get out of here, and head over there."

"Victor, you can't.  I saw you there."

"I suppose that means I'm meant to go, then."  He said it smoothly, no concern whatsoever, but the problem with Chase 'seeing' him somewhere and telling him not to go was that it had probably been bad.

"You were bloodied and the house was ransacked.  I don't think it's a good idea."

"Agreed, but it may be the only chance your parents have at survival.  I'll swing by Connor's and see if the idiot made it out, as well."

"Victor..."

"I'll call you as soon as I'm able, Chase.  Stay safe, and keep trying to get people to the guildhouse."

"You stay safe, too."

"I'll do my best.  See you soon."

"I'd better."

He smiled as he hung up, the line already dead on her side, and he lingered on that for a second before he pulled his cigarettes from his coat and started for the roof.  He needed one before he attempted all of this, or he really WAS going to snap.  The roof meant he got some fresh, cool air, as well.  It might help clear his head, and allow him to plan his next move.  Going to Karen and Rich's house unarmed wasn't an option, which was fine because he had some weaponry hidden at the hospital.  It was just a pain to try to get out of there without putting someone on alert.  He couldn't take the chance of leaving the building without weapons, though.  With his luck, he'd get nailed as soon as he walked out the door.  At least they'd been trying to make it look like accidents all night, so he didn't have to worry too much about being sniped.  If it was him ganking himself, he'd have gone that route just to prevent any mistakes.  He wasn't betting that was the plan, however, and so taking a quick breather before jumping into a whole new mess was a damn good idea.

He was breathing his nicotine mix in deep when Daphne appeared, commenting on just how busy the night had been, and he resisted snorting and giving her a waspish comment.  It wasn't her fault that it was going to get even worse for him as the night progressed, and she didn't have any clue what was happening, anyway.  He was going to give her the same explanation for his upcoming exit as the rest of them, but she got the luxury of a few extra minutes to take it in.

"Yep," he said simply, finishing up the cigarette as a bat flew overhead, and he flicked the still glowing butt in its direction.  Why?  Eyes narrowed at it and knowing that he'd never seen a bat up here before, he was just paranoid enough to wonder if it was a shifter.  If not, oh well, but if so?  Fucker was going to be very displeased very soon, because Victor wasn't playing games tonight.  "I'm done for the night.  Family emergency."

Just like that, he rolled his shoulders back, trying to ease the ache in tight muscles that were about to be abused, and turned for the chair that he'd left in the doorway.  He had a lot to deal with very quickly, starting with calling his sister-in-law.

 Daphne nodded. "Of course, I'm confident I can cover for you," she said smoothly. Despite being tired as hell, Daphne only needed to be in the company of the man she suspected would see through her act the moment she dropped it to be able to pull herself together. She stepped aside as he exited through the door, following behind him after she moved the chair back to its normal position and ensured that the latch was tight on the exit. As she stepped into the elevator with him, she said nothing, at least not until the doors opened on the floor where their things were kept. There was utter chaos in the hallway; the doors hadn't even fully opened yet when someone spotted them and called out, "Dr. Batten!" Fortunately, Daphne reached up and slapped the emergency close button on the doors, stopping them from ever opening all the way. They slammed shut and she turned to look at him, her face rather blank.

"Next floor, I'll cover you to the stairs. You can take your time down to the parking garage; I can double back and meet you there with your bag." The way she said it was how she always spoke, matter-of-factly. If Victor disliked her, he had to at least appreciate her willingness to see his tasks completed quickly and quietly. No, discretion was a lesson Daphne knew very well. She walked with him to the stairs, resisting the urge to clamp a hand around his arm as though she were escorting him. That man had a mind of his own; if he was distracted, even if he fought, he'd never get out of the building as quickly as he'd aimed to. With Daphne's face holding the expression that clearly said she was not to be messed with, a face many of the doctors and nurses had seen before, she managed to get him to the door.

"Go," she urged. "I'll handle the rest. Go!" Victor didn't seem to like the idea of her in control of his things, but she steamrolled him into the stairwell and then vanished, dark ponytail switching behind her. She practically ran back to the elevator, blatantly ignoring people as she did so, holding her hands up like she was trying to get to a trauma patient. She got into the locker room with ease, popping Victor's lock without having to ask for the password - mostly because she could break into just about anything. It was a useful skill to have. She grabbed his bag, and then grabbed the medical kit he'd instructed her to filch and shoved it in along with his things.

She was almost down to the garage when the elevator ground to a halt. The doors opened on the fifth floor and the service lights came on. She groaned and stepped out, wondering what the problem was, when she saw a man she'd never seen before exiting the room of one of their finally-stabilized patients. Daphne stared at him as he walked by her, recognizing a predator when she saw one. He had incredibly dark eyes, and Daphne felt like she lost a sense of time temporarily, but when she looked around, nothing had changed, and he was still passing her by.

Daphne wasn't scared, and she didn't avert her eyes, but she had the sensation that someone was trying to get inside her head. She casually began to roster duties that she had yet to perform, focusing her mind on the absolute tasks she had when she'd seen Dr. Batten off. She was careful to leave out names and locations, and her destination. That, perhaps, was what caught the vampire's attention the most, and after Daphne had rushed down a few sets of stairs, he quietly followed. He wanted to see where she was headed in such a hurry.

She got down into the garage with less hassle than she thought she would, and found Victor with another cigarette by his vehicle. "I got the things you requested," she said, voice a little breathy from running but in far better overall condition than one would have expected from someone who'd just run that fast. Daphne wasn't in the mood to fake her damned breathing, so she'd let the good doctor think whatever the hell he wanted.

"I think it would be best if you left now," she said, glancing over her shoulder as she heard the metal doors to the garage bang open and closed. When nobody came around the corner, she looked back at him. "Right now."

Of course, not knowing that Victor was a vampire hunter made that a little difficult of a command to issue. As Daphne turned, no longer interested in what he had to say, she dropped her hand into the pocket of her white overcoat, and pulled a razor sharp scalpel out. It was not a gesture that Victor missed, despite the fact that she moved more like a civilian than a hunter - for the moment. Daphne, meanwhile, was engrossed with making her target believe that she was all human and normal. It would be easier to lure it in.

Then she'd find out just what the hell was going on.

Not that he was complaining, because he truly wasn't at ALL, but Daphne's sudden decision to cover for him combined with the efforts she took without question caught him off-guard.  She was always quick-witted and swift to action, but this was an entirely different situation.  She was moving almost as though she understood the trouble, and wanted him out.  Obviously, there was no way that she could, but it struck him as odd.  He just wasn't going to take the moment to question it right then.  She herded him like she wanted to take him by the arm and move him along, something that he never would have allowed and he didn't believe she'd have ever tried, but he got that impression from the way she behaved.  If it was someone else, he had no doubt that she would have, but he was a different sort of man.  He appreciated her ability to get him through without his getting caught on the way, and that was that.  She got him as far as the stairs, just like she'd said she would, and then she was urging him on without his bags.

Did he really want her collecting his weaponry?  Nope, not at all, but it wasn't like he had a whole hell of a lot of options here.  If he tried to get to the locker room, there was no chance he was getting out of there.  He had to pass her quick instructions, and then he was flying down the stairs, sometimes two at a time.  For all of his smoking, Victor was in great physical shape, and it was sure as hell easier to get DOWN the stairs quickly than up.  When he hit the garage area, he cursed quietly to himself in a sharp breath over the thought of rushing out there unarmed, without his car keys.  He had a spare hidden on the car itself just for such a situation as this, but it would be a bitch to get to if he was being chased.  Hopefully, if he had anyone on his ass currently, they hadn't realized he was already down in the garage.  He also had a gun and a knife in the car, for the same reason as the spare key, but he had to get there.  With a deep breath, he was out the door and across the lot, sharp eyes flicking about in search of any sort of attack or movement.  Nothing.

Huh.

He got to the vehicle without consequence, cautiously circling it as though he expected something to leap out of it at him, but there was nothing.  Again, he glanced around and finally dropped to the ground, rolled under it and snatched the key.  Seconds later, he was inside it, the key was in the ignition and ready to roll, and he was armed.  The knife sheathe was strapped to his forearm under his white (now slightly dirty) coat, the gun's shoulder holster was under the coat and over his scrubs, and he had a lit cigarette between his lips.  Another one would be for the best right then, he'd decided, and since he didn't seem to have a tail at all, he was waiting for Daphne before he rocked out.  He wanted more ability to kick some ass than his spares allowed.

He wasn't surprised when she appeared, with everything he'd asked for, a little breathless.  What was surprising was that she wasn't more out of breath, given how heavy the back of weapons was.  Even with it being smaller than most hunters seemed to carry, it was heavy and well-packed.  Her urgency had him slightly suspicious on top of it.  How did she know that he needed to leave?  She made it sound like she was aware of the danger, which still didn't make sense.  The only way she could know was if she knew about the supernatural, honestly.  As far as he knew, she wasn't one of those people that was in the loop, and she WAS human.  If she thought that she was going to hold off whoever it was for him, then she hadn't looked into the heavy bags she'd picked up for him.  Otherwise, she'd want more than a scalpel, he was betting, and she wouldn't be so concerned about him leaving.  She hadn't asked, though.  Why not?  Why take his orders to completely and without question?  Why pull a scalpel on a threat that she thought he had to run from?

Lots of questions, and no time for answers.  Awesome.

He dropped the medical supplies in the backseat of his car, then did the same with the bag of weapons, though he opened that one and drew a set of handguns with more stopping power from it.  The spare would remain exactly that.  Daphne still moved like a civilian would, suggesting that she wasn't a hunter (which he'd been wondering about when she drew the scalpel).  "Put that thing away, now, and look in that bag.  Take something you think you can handle and try not to die," he instructed her, stepping out in front of her and glancing around for whatever had spooked her.  Something was there, giving him that feeling of being watched.  He was far too experienced not to know when he was being hunted, and he sneered into the open garage.

"I don't have time for games!" he called, much preferring to draw it out than wait around for it to jump him.  He wasn't getting into that car until he knew for sure that it was gone.  The car might survive and protect him well enough for a short run, but not if he couldn't even get it started.  Then, there was Daphne.  "Can you get back inside?"

She was armed, so getting back inside might work.  He might have to escort her as far as the door if the quiet watcher stayed quiet for a few moments, but at least she'd be with a bunch of people, and she'd have something to protect herself. 

Nevermind.  As soon as he put the thought out there that he might want her to go back inside, the creature appeared to his left, swiping at his head from a ridiculously close range almost before he had a chance to react.  Almost.  He ducked aside far quicker than his ploy as 'unpleasant doctor' would have suggested he could move, and fired.  Game on.

Delia walked at a leisurely pace from the SUV to the hospital, pushing in the front doors like she owned the building, case in one hand, shotgun in the other. She set the briefcase down casually as she went in, disabling the slide at the door to lock it. So many people were rushing around that nobody noticed, and the security cameras weren't a major concern of hers. She flipped one off as she walked by, red hair trailing behind her like a mane of fire. She went as far as the front desk before someone tried to stop her, but she put a hand on his chest and pushed him back so hard that the impact alone collapsed his chest.

"Damn it feels good to be a wolf," she said with a cheshire grin. She continued walking til she got to the end of the hall, and picked up one of the phones that fed into the PA system.

"Attention ladies and gentlemen, I regret to inform you that this hospital is no longer open for business. Please be sure not to kill eachother in a panic just yet, as my boys want a crack at you, first." With that, she hung up the phone, and produced something small and metal from her jacket. She pushed down on it, and a massive blast shook the entire building, sending it and everything in the block around it into darkness. An EMP, courtesy of Midnight, to knock out all communication with the one area that human family members and friends would be taken to first.

"Now, let's find the good doctor," she said, turning to the bat with a grin. She headed for the stairs as pandemonium erupted around her.

[4:15 AM]

When Victor thrust a gun at Daphne and told her to take something she could handle, she only didn't laugh at him because of the trouble they were in. The fact that he would suggest her skill with a blade anything but superb was ludacris, but she didn't have time to debate the details. She chose a compact .40 caliber and trusted that it was already loaded. With a flick of her finger, she'd taken the safety off, and was making her way back to the doors when Victor called the vampire out.

She turned just as it took a swipe at him, both surprised and not at Victor's quick dodging. He'd had tells in his own way, but not in ways others would have noticed. It was his precision and observation that had made Daphne pin him as some sort of hunter, not his muscle and personality. She was aware of the supernatural and things surrounding it, but she hadn't been privy to Midnight's rampage, and wouldn't until someone explained it to her. Still, she did not appreciate being caught up in a tumult of trouble, and so she responded in kind.

She squeezed off a round at the vampire as he tried to evade Victor's own bullets, but he vanished again, and she allowed her anger to overtake her for a moment while she growled. She was ready to rage the fuck out, but now wasn't precisely an opportune moment to go hack and slash on someone. She looked at Victor, brows lofted. "Do they always play Jack in the Box?" she asked, looking around and waiting for the fuck to reappear.

She heard someone on the PA system talking, and looked up at the levels above them. It went on for a second, and then there was a loud blast, and the entire building was plunged into darkness, the lot included. The back up generator didn't even kick on, which was a serious indication that something was amiss.

"Uh oh," was all she had a chance to say before she heard the doors swing open again. Completely blinded was not her stage of choice.

He heard the voice on the PA just as Daphne had, but he'd hardly been paying attention, watching for the vampire again.  When Daphne asked if they always played that game, her tone suggesting that she wasn't all that phased by this turn of events, not to mention her aim, he gave her a dry, irritated look.  "No.  Usually, they just die, but this is a role reversal," he offered her, sounding only slightly annoyed.  He didn't like being the hunted, and he didn't like waiting around while something took potshots at him. 

The sudden blast that echoed through the hospital had him diving for cover immediately, fortunately putting him closer to the open car door.  When everything electric around them cut out, including the garage lights and those in his car, he cursed and pushed himself off the ground in a mad dash for the vehicle.  He heard the movement rather than saw it, the vampire's sight being better in the dark than his, but he still dodged enough to avoid having his throat torn into.  He caught a glancing blow to the face that knocked him off his feet and drew blood from his cheek and eyebrow, at the very least.  His eyes had impulsively closed, keeping blood out of the one, but they were both safe.  He wasn't interested in trying out Connor's tricks.  He was up again quickly, rushing for the car again and firing the next time he heard the movement.  Flashes from the barrel of the gun helped light some of the area just a little, giving him a point of reference in the darkness for the car.  It wasn't far, and he'd chased his attacker back again.  One more dash, and he'd smacked his shin off the car, practically falling inside to grab at the roadside kit on the floor in the backseat.  He was dragged out of the vehicle by his ankle and firmly believed that the creature was going to snap that ankle right in half if he hadn't whipped his gun arm around to fire again.  This one hit home, though it was still only a glancing sort of blow.  It still sent the man shrieking, and allowed Victor to snatch a roadside flare from the bag.  He lit it, nearly smacked the vampire in the face with it when it came at him and he instinctively punched it, then he was on the move again.  He wanted distance, or the vampire was going to tear him apart.

He hoped that Daphne was still alive, but he wouldn't call out to her.  If she was, no reason to blow her position, and hopefully she'd gone back inside.  The vampire rushed him again, trying to push the advantage when it realized he didn't want close quarters, but he'd had a second to shift hands.  When it got in his face again, catching his upper left arm in a swing, he put a bullet in its gut.  The next shot would be head.  "Go fuck yourself, asshole."

Daphne had fallen into the routine of pretending to be very scared and alone, and she inched closer to the door as she did it. She was using all over predatory instincts now, allowing them to take over her very body. She closed her eyes in the darkness, using it to give her comfort to the fact that she was blind, and ignoring the conflict that Victor had at hand. She backed up slowly until she felt herself brush against something warm. Judging by width and height, Daphne guessed male; the temperature suggested a shapeshifter, but she couldn't call as to which. Not an Avian, or she'd have felt his heart beating through her jacket.

"Why don't you put down the gun before you get hurt?" he whispered.

"Okay," Daphne whispered, injecting terror into her voice. "What should I do?" she asked. She was bargaining for the bat.

"Throw it away," he said.

"Okay," she said. "Nice and slow." Daphne leaned back into him, one hand pressing against his thigh as she made to swing the gun free of her grip. What he didn't realize was that she was going to bet on bat for his species and that she counted on men to be idiots: he'd been so concerned that she was fondling near his crotch that he didn't realize she'd reached into her pocket along the way, picking up that wickedly sharp scalpel of hers, one, and two, that when she threw the gun, she was also going to fire it. The sound alone sent him screaming, and she used the brief muzzle flare to illuminate his form. She saw the points she wanted to hit, and drove into him, hard.

He fought back, getting in a few well-placed blows out of convenience, but her gunshot so close to his ears had scrambled him. Daphne didn't need to use her hearing to fight, nor did she need her eyes, although there was a flare now, so that was something. No, bathed in the soft glow of red light, Daphne only saw what could be a spectacular mount for her wall, and she managed to evade enough of his would-be mortally wounding attacks in favour of some not-so-comfortable ones. He managed to crack one of her ribs, to which she responded in kind, except with her blade. She avoided his throat, preferring to damage elsewhere primarily, and had taken off an ear, jabbed an eye, and given him half of a Glasgow smile when he hit her in the face, hard, enough to make her see stars. She plunged the blade into his neck then, grimacing as a spurt of tainted blood hit her coat.

By the time Victor had disposed of his victim, there was no bat, and Daphne was clearly ruffled, but standing upright. She had the scalpel in her hand still, and lowered it, but made no effort to hide it. She looked at him, still with that predatory gaze, and then with a few blinks it was gone. She was somewhat able to appear dignified despite having blood on her person, and raised her eyebrows, pretending that hadn't just happened.

"We've got a lot of walking to do," she said, voice as casual as she could manage. "I'll accompany you until we reach an area that has power, if you don't mind."

Daphne's gunshot rang through the garage right along with his, and he definitely knew the difference.  All he could hope was that she'd hold her own until he could get rid of the vampire, and if not?  He was going to be pissed to lose one of the few competent people that surrounded him on a regular basis.  He didn't like to think about the idea that he might be fond of her, especially given just how unlikely survival was in a situation like this, but he was.  Hearing her approach was nothing in comparison to the image she cut approaching him in the red light of the flare with that little fucking scalpel in hand.  It was already that deep red of fresh blood, deeper in the light from the flare, and he had to admit for just a second there that he was impressed.  He hadn't ever completely bought that helpless thing she could pull off, but she didn't really do it in front of him.  Maybe she knew better, that he didn't have an ounce of respect for victims, but there was no denying the truth of it.  She'd killed a shapeshifter that also had the benefit of size over her, in close quarters and without suffering much in the way of major injuries.  At least, as far as he could tell.  If she was badly injured, he couldn't see it.

He hesitated only an instant, taking in her form as though he wasn't sure what to make of it.  On one hand, he didn't want her near him.  There was some part of him that saw far too much predator in her face and thought for a split second that shooting her in the head right then and there would be in everyone's best interest, but how many times could that have been said about him?  This was where the other hand came in, wanting to keep her with him for as long as was necessary, both to ensure that she was safe until this was over and because he could respect her.  She was nearly all of the things that he could admire and accept in companions, and had now displayed an ability to care for herself.  It was unrealistic to make that a requirement without dating exclusively in the hunting guilds, so he just didn't really date.  Daphne was suddenly screwing up his radar.  Maybe if they both survived, he would pay just a little more attention to what she was up to.  In the meantime, they did have a long walk.  Damn it.

"Are you injured?" he asked, cocking an eyebrow up at her in question before he turned back to his car.  Now, he was repositioning his weaponry on his person, just to make it more accessible.  If she was okay, she was helping him carry.  He was half-tempted to go back inside and see what the fuck was going on and if there was any way to stop what had to be mass-chaos, but he knew better.  They'd never make it back out, or at least, he wouldn't.  If they were targeting families, then he was on that list.  Daphne wasn't, so she might make it. 

He was tearing through the car, grabbing the other roadside flares and anything else that looked like it might be useful, including an actual flashlight.  He glanced at his cell phone for an instant and returned it to his pocket in disgust before snatching some change from the center console of the car.  "I need a fucking phone."

He had to warn the guilds about the hospital.  If their non-combatants were ending up here, they were all going to die.  Bad move.

 Daphne shrugged as he began handing her weapons. One or two guns she didn't really seem to fuss over, but when he handed her a particularly imposing hunting knife, she smiled just enough for it to be considered a smile, and tucked it into her boots, which were over her pants. She watched him as he moved, his movements quick and precise. The man didn't waste energy, at all. "Cracked lower rib, and I think I'm concussed, but other than that, I'm fine," she said honestly. She would only worry when she got thrown down and that rib decided to go into her lung; until then, she was dandy.

"As soon as we get outside and see where the chaos focal point is, we can go the opposite way. Ground lines are going to be jammed with people calling about the explosion. I'm pretty sure we can find someone out of the pulse range on a cell phone and just... borrow it," she said with a little laugh. Daphne wasn't worried, and it was strange. Honestly, she had nobody she cared about, and if her house burned down tomorrow, she'd just start her work over again elsewhere. She was attached to very little, so there was nothing to panic about. Her concern for the time being was getting Victor out of here in one piece - and finding out what was going on.

As they headed for the exit, the sounds of screaming and bedlam greeted them as people ran all over and authorities tried to control the crowd. "So," she said, dodging a few panicked mob members who ran between them and into the garage which had just gone completely dark, "care to tell me why I'm suddenly fighting for my life?" She glanced at him, and had such a way of speaking so blandly every time she said something bomb-drop-worthy that she made herself slappable at times.

She looked away from him, scanning the crowd. She was looking for someone who seemed too calm, or didn't otherwise belong. There were too many god damned people though, even for her. Best case scenario is that they'd draw the culprits further away, if they were after Victor like she suspected. Then she could go medieval on their faces with that new knife she'd been given to "hold".

He sure as hell didn't miss it when she grinned over that knife, but he didn't worry about it for the time being.  She was on his side, as far as he could tell, so he was just going to have to let her do her thing.  If something about that changed, he'd deal with it when it happened.  Surprisingly, she was strategically intelligent, as well; not a normal civilian trait but one that was infinitely useful here and now.  That was, if he kept her with him long enough.  She had a point when she asked why she was fighting for her life, and it drew a grim sort of smile to his lips, if only because of the way she presented the question.

"From what I gather, an attempt was made on the wrong life, so everyone within six degrees of separation is a target," he told her, preferring to explain without actually dropping any of the 'big' words that might draw attention in a crowd.  He preferred to slip through with as little notice as possible.  He even waited until they were surrounded by less of a population before speaking up again.

At this point, anyone who caught onto him was already looking for him, so a little talk wasn't such a bad thing.  He wouldn't mind drawing any potential threats out before he went looking for Karen and Rich.  "You shouldn't follow me much further than this.  Disappear back into the crowd, and nobody will even notice you," he instructed, stopping their progress long enough to get his point across so that they could part ways.  Taking her along was just painting a target on her back.  "This isn't a problem that you need to get more caught up in than you already are, as much as I appreciated the help."

He did appreciate it, too.  He just couldn't guarantee that he, or anyone around him, was going to survive the night, so why add another life to the mix?  It just didn't make sense to risk her, and did he want that on his hands?

 Daphne listened as he spoke to her, explaining what he was willing to regarding the situation. She wondered who had been so slighted, and wondered who that particular individual had at his disposal. She wasn't aware that Midnight actually existed, of course, though she had her own notions about such things. She let out a loud, biting yelp of a laugh when he suggested that she take her leave, despite of course that he appreciated her help.

"I can take care of myself, Victor," she said, her voice as smooth and serene as it always was. There was still something utterly dark in her eyes, though, something he'd notice, something that she allowed to be there. "I think you know that."

She continued walking in the direction they had been, glancing over her shoulder. "Well, come on. If nothing else, I'll give you a fighting chance to slip through the cracks. They'll see you coming, but they won't ever in a million years suspect me." He finally seemed to give in to her demands and hurried after her, if nothing else than because he couldn't let her go on by herself. She knew he thought that she was stupid for doing it, but he knew that she wasn't, herself, a stupid individual, and she did have a point about giving him a shot. She'd offer them a run for their money, at the very least. He could accept that.

It wouldn't take long for Delia to catch up to them, which was what Daphne was banking on. Daphne walked another block or two briskly, in silence as Victor made a few calls and tried to determine the best course of action. She stopped suddenly at a black BMW M3, and turned back at Victor. "Go over there and duck behind the car. Come back out when I signal you," she said. He began to protest, but she shoved him away and turned around, putting her back against the car. A man came down from a townhouse and ran up on her.

"Can I help you?" he asked, looking confused and defensive. Daphne disarmed him with her winning smile, and stepped forward. She was predatory in her movements, something the man didn't realize but Victor would notice right away. She was herding him, like a wolf does to a young lamb before they pounce for the kill.

"I'm sure you can," she said, voice breathy. "I just need you to help me out for a second," she said. She tossed her hair back and smiled, reaching up to put her hand on his shoulder. As she did that, she pointed at Victor, signaling him to do -- something, anything. Bash the guy on his head so she could get his car keys would be a smashing idea.

Even people who weren't stupid themselves were capable of doing stupid things, Victor had been guilty of it in the past himself, and it was what he was attributing Daphne's current decisions to.  She shouldn't have been escorting him on this ridiculous night, but if she was going to be stubborn, he wasn't wasting time arguing with her.  He'd offered her an out, she'd refused, and so she would have to wait until here was another chance to leave if she changed her mind.  In the meantime, she wasn't wrong about giving him a fighting chance because, yes, he knew that she could take care of herself well enough.  It was there in her eyes, in the predatory lines of her body, and he nodded briskly and got moving.  Nobody would suspect her, she was absolutely right.

Daphne wasn't the only one who knew that it wouldn't take long for his pursuer to catch up to them, because there had been two in the garage, which meant that he was definitely a target they were willing to expend resources on.  With as close to the leader of Crimson as he was, both as family and as a constant sounding board for decisions (Victor and Connor spent a lot of time together, despite being so very different), he wouldn't be surprised if he was a high-priority target; losing him would be a severe blow even if Connor survived, and Victor was currently hoping like hell he had.  It all made him very testy, this knowledge on top of how horrific and tiring his night had been at the hospital and then fighting for his life in the dark.  Daphne's games were not appreciated when she stopped him and wanted him to duck behind a car, which was why he was going to protest, but she gave him a shove and if she didn't have a damn good plan, he was showing her just how easily he could slip through the cracks himself.

As it turned out, her plan was solid, and simple.  The man who came out to deal with her leaning on his car was just a civilian, and Victor dispatched him with a light blow to a pressure point that had prompted Connor to call him 'Mister Spock' for a solid month after seeing him do it to a mouthy Level 3 at the end of a double shift at the hospital and then the guildhouse.  The man started to drop and Victor caught him before he became overly difficult and laid him on the sidewalk.  Now they had a car.

"I have a few stops to make before I'll be going anywhere safe.  Fair warning," he told her, pilfering the keys from the man and opening the car up.  If she got into the passenger's seat, she was in for the long haul.

 Daphne watched as he pinched the guy in the Vulcan Death Grip, and smiled to herself, a slight shake of her head her only indication of her reaction. She'd always known, and now this was just further proof: Victor was different then the others. She slid into the passenger seat before he'd even gotten done talking, opening the glove box for a quick check of the credentials. The owner's name, address, and anything else she'd need to claim that she was his girlfriend and they were making a quick run out - in the event they got pulled over. She had no idea about the guilds yet, or their involvement with the police - or the fact that they weren't fucking likely to get pulled over this night of all nights, but the fact that she had fabricated a very quick backstory was a testament to her quick thought.

She slid the magazine out of the gun she had on loan from him, checking the rounds, then nodded to herself. She still had plenty to keep herself occupied, plus that stupidly sharp knife she favoured so. Daphne could have been an Arun for the way she enjoyed close combat, but if there was any lineage there, she didn't know (and I could totally do this later on since obviously I'm changing her history around).

"Where to, first?" she asked, glancing over at him as she buckled herself in. She didn't want to get tossed through the windshield in the event that someone decided to dogfight with them on the open road. "The payphones here are working obviously, so we must be far enough out from the blast radius. Too bad the cell phones got fried in the process. I wonder... " she trailed off, then followed a cord plugged into the lighter that led down to her feet. "Bingo," she muttered, holding up a phone so that he could see.

She glanced behind them, seeing no sign of movement as they pulled off of the curb. If they were being followed, the people were hanging way back. In truth, Delia was already getting together with Yvette to track them - she'd have to find the body, first, then go from there, which gave them a nice head start.