There is screaming and gasping in horror from the witches.
But not the vampires. And certainly not from Pam, who looks at Eric with the greatest admiration possible, because this is the closest to himself that she's ever seen him since the spell took his memories. This bloody-fanged terror is the vampire she knows.
But Martonia lifts her arms to the sky.
"Dea, Absconde Nos!" she calls out, her voice echoing in the dark, and at once, a thick, gray fog descends upon the graveyard, making it impossible for anyone to see where they're going or who they're attacking. It throws everything into complete chaos. More screaming. Running around blindly in the shadows.
As Bill's guards keep close around the perimeter, the red sights from their rifles barely cutting through the fog, the vampires scatter at high speed. They don't need to see. They can smell.
Pam drops fang in a snarling grimace. She couldn't give a damn who kills who in this shitshow. She's only interested in tracking down Tara.
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But not the vampires. And certainly not from Pam, who looks at Eric with the greatest admiration possible, because this is the closest to himself that she's ever seen him since the spell took his memories. This bloody-fanged terror is the vampire she knows.
But Martonia lifts her arms to the sky.
"Dea, Absconde Nos!" she calls out, her voice echoing in the dark, and at once, a thick, gray fog descends upon the graveyard, making it impossible for anyone to see where they're going or who they're attacking. It throws everything into complete chaos. More screaming. Running around blindly in the shadows.
As Bill's guards keep close around the perimeter, the red sights from their rifles barely cutting through the fog, the vampires scatter at high speed. They don't need to see. They can smell.
Pam drops fang in a snarling grimace. She couldn't give a damn who kills who in this shitshow. She's only interested in tracking down Tara.