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Whatever blood Elliot had gained by the attack, he had surely lost again. Three fold. The hunger that had him acting out of sorts and on a whim was still there, lurking, threatening to send him on a rampage. One that he sought to avoid, at all costs. He had to get home. Had to find Pi. Had to… something. But he wasn’t fit to be out in public – and for very good reason.

Where he struggled to control his hunger, he also had to deal with a sudden surge in lunatic jealousy. Why? Probably for no reason. Except the fact that Elliot knew what Pi’s blood smelled like, because he fed on her every night. He knew the tantalising scent back to front; every nuance of it, as it tickled his senses. When he fed from Pi it wasn’t just a cut and dry process. It wasn’t clinical. It wasn’t savage. It was a sensual thing, a pleasure for them both. The scent of her blood could send him into a passionate lust.

The fact that the man opposite him knew what Pi’s blood smelled like could only mean two things; that he himself has fed from her and thus experienced what Elliot experiences on a nightly basis (which is tantamount to sex, really), or he has harmed Pi. Sure, there were plenty of other scenarios in between, but Elliot wasn’t at all in his right mind.

And so he did not calm down, as he was telling himself to. But at least he didn’t launch himself at the other vampire again. At least he was able to hold himself steady against that wall, even if the only thing he wanted to do was find his sword and behead the other man for simply knowing what the **** Pi smelled like.

”Who the **** are you, that you know what she smells like?! Or what she would or would not bloody approve of?” he near-shouted, voice raised and Australian accent broad, threatening, clear.

The rage in the other man's voice was clear and though Jonah bristled at the threat, he did not respond. "We were friends, like I said. Worked together." He raised his hands slowly, showing them to be empty and that he was no threat.

"Have you heard of the Undersecretary Office? We used to track the bounty violations. I helped her there." The fact that the other man responded implied to him that the was back in his right mind, at least for the moment, and Jonah spoke as much to keep him thinking as he did to tell him of his connection to Pi.

His hands slowly went to his sides. "What do you want to do now? Keep this up or go our separate ways?"

Right mind. Elliot wasn’t really in his right mind. Not at all. Though he was speaking in succinct sentences, they weren’t his usual kind. They weren’t warm or welcoming or awkward. That’s how his humour could usually be described – awkward. Rarely ever did Elliot get on the wrong side of anyone – not by trying, anyway. He was a peacekeeper, and if any kind of confrontation could be avoided, then he would avoid it.

Right now? He wanted his sword. He wanted to see how strong this other vampire was, compared to Elliot. A bristling pride and the urge to prove himself right, somehow, even though there was nothing to prove. Nothing at all. Maybe he wanted only to prove that he was stronger, so that he could have that knowledge tucked away somewhere. Mostly, he just wanted blood. He wanted to spill it. He wanted to consume it. He could imagine it; could imagine letting the tip of his sword slice through the tendons and muscles of this vampire’s neck just so that he could watch the waterfall of blood as it cascaded down over his chest.

Elliot’s squeezed his eyes shut. He shook his head in short, sharp motions. He bit the inside of his cheek so hard that it bled. No, no. This wasn’t him. He knew that. He fought against it.

The other man’s words hardly registered. Something about friends. Something about the Undersecretary – the job that Pi had once had. The words were like bile in his throat, and he swallowed to keep them down. The past tense – he was friends with Pi. Did work with her, but no more. Why? Was this guy some kind of enemy? Elliot wanted him to be. He wanted any kind of excuse to cut him down.

Instead, Elliot reached into his pocket to find the tome that would take him back to the Den. He wouldn’t be ashamed to admit that he was running away. He was very much running away, and as quick as possible. Though he wasn’t running away from the other vampire in fear of who he was or what he might do – instead Elliot was running away from himself. He clutched that tome tight in his fist and he whispered the words.

And just before he disappeared completely, the other vampire might hear a very strained I’m sorry.