Dracula frowned, eyes burning with disbelief as he turned to the woman... Azrael.
Her bullet had managed to hurt him?
Was that a fluke?
He didn't even blink. Instead, his tongue darted like a snake, tasting his own blood.
"Delicious. But you'll pay for that, little girl," he hissed.
He moved... No! He blurred.
Leo barely saw the motion.
In an instant, Dracula was upon Azrael, one hand snapping around her wrist before she could squeeze the trigger again. His grip was like iron. With a savage jerk, he flung her through the air; her body slammed against a pillar, the stone cracking beneath the impact, before she tumbled hard to the floor.
Raphael's shout barely left her throat before Dracula's gaze locked on her next.
"Raphael—move!" Leo roared, pushing against the pressure, ignoring the pain screaming in his body. He charged, slashing desperately at Dracula, but Dracula's arm snapped out, catching the sword by its blade. He wrenched it aside as if it weighed nothing.
