(Third Person).
That was a mistake. A very big one from the Vampire, because in a flash, Draven moved.
One second, the vampire stood confidently—smirking. The next, he was gasping, clutching his stomach.
Draven's claws had sunk in, then slashed upward in one smooth, brutal motion.
"You won't live to touch a hair on her head," Draven hissed.
The vampire stumbled back—but Draven was already behind him, elbow slamming into the back of his head.
The vampire fell to his knees, coughing up blood.
With a savage kick, Draven sent him flying against a tree. The bark cracked, and its bones shattered.
Regardless of the pain and the shock, the vampire tried to rise, one last desperate snarl on his lips—
But Draven was faster.
He charged, grabbed the vampire by the jaw, and ripped it sideways with a sickening snap.
The vampire's body dropped limp to the ground.
Draven stood over him, breath steady, eyes glowing gold.
