Azrael

Only Fools Walk Where Angels Fear To Tread

If anything could be said for Raven- it was that the curly haired woman was diligent and dedicated worker. Raven, despite her reservations and having been all but thrust into the midst of several Hunters unknown to her, seemed willing enough to work and take care of that task at hand. For that, in the very least, Azrael was willing to praise her. Even if not out loud. The Hunter content to mentally consider that praise and whether or not she truly deserved to hear it. Afterwards, maybe, when their work here was completed. Raven insisted she knew that smell of gunpowder from some previous sort of work experience. The mention of that den prompting Azrael to frown. Some illegal business he was sure and yet here and now, he supposed, it was hardly the issue at hand. The wolf leaned forward then to sniff at that cloth he held out then, Raven inhaling that scent and committing it to whatever wolfish memory she possessed before insisting she was ready. That cloth was tucked back into his back pocket, Azrael sent those other Hunters to their own positions before leading himself and Raven down and toward that large warehouse. Azrael's figure pressed agianst that cold steel. That Werewolf joining him a moment later as they both slid along that side before Azrael peered into the open expanse of the space ahead lined with little more than crates upon crates. It appeared, for now, to be clear. Azrael waved Raven in, his own feet near silent upon that ground, his golden gaze surveying that area again before gesturing to those boxes to have Raven begin searching.

Raven hurried forward then to begin sniffing at those boxes, one after the other, Azrael himself moved to that nearest one, his fingers worked to pry at that lid before peering inside at what appeared to be.....potatoes. A whole fucking lot of potatoes. Maybe they wouldn't find anything here after all. Just his fucking luck. They'd be right back to square one again with this case. Azrael's own sense extended outward, the Hunter aware of his fellow Hunters outside before those instincts settled upon Raven once more as she levitated upward to get a better angle for, well, smelling he supposed. That was at least a useful use for her powers. Raven continued further along those crates as Azrael closed the one he had been looking in, his feet landing smoothly back upon the ground before the wagging of Raven's tail drew his gaze upward. The wolf appearing distinctly pleased with herself. Had she found something? The blond Hunters lips moved to part only for him to pause near suddenly, his gaze moving to follow Raven's off and over to the side. What was she looking at? That sudden, low warning growl from the wolf readily saw that dim light of power Azrael war like a veritably shield brighten all the more in anticipation. Raven barely getting those words out before she was suddenly sent flying from the top of those crates.

"Fucking hell!"

Who or what had attacked Raven he hardly saw. The majority of the beings associated with this so supposedly of human origin and yetvery few humans would willingly throw themselves from the rafters and onto a Werewolf at the speed of a fucking train. Azrael's own affinity for speed propelled the Hunter rapidly toward where he had seen Raven fall then. Serafina would destroy him herself if anything happened to her pet. Besides, he supposed, he didn't actually dislike the wolf as much as he disliked most of her kind. Those hissing words of outrage readiy met his ears as his feet skidded upon the ground. A red-haired vampire having pinned Raven to the ground beneath him, the damned fool rambling on about something.Made him suffer? Raven? That seemed unlikely. Maybe he hadn't fed in a while and was damn well confused. Did he even have anything to do with this warehouse or was he purely here for, well, Raven? In the end, he supposed, it hardly damn mattered. A vampire was a vampire. That sudden glowing, heated beam of light all but exploded from Azreal's outstretched hand to collide with the vampire on top of Raven and send him flying into that nearby wall within a satisfying thud of collision. That power for light having made Azrael the Council's leading vampire hunter for several years now. Light, after all, was far to much for the majority of vampires to handle. Azrael's near glowing figure stepped toward Raven then, assuring she had every chance to get to her feet as the vampire struggled to his own.

"Why the fuck did he just tackle you? What did you do?"

Maybe she hadn't done anything. Vampires were insane most of the time anyway. What else could be expected from a re-animated corpse? Still, he managed to afford her that near dubious look all the same. Azrael coming to stand at her side then as that vampire managed to get to his feet. Hopefully the damned fool might think better of attacking a second time. The sudden explosion of a gunshot from nearby readily saw Azrael dive sideways, the Hunter throwing himself into Raven in an effort to knock the wolf back down again and out of harm's way. That shield of light readily flaring up around him to prevent any of those bullets colliding with them. Azrael, fortunately, having managed to knock the pair behind a stack of crates. Whoever owned those crates had, evidently, come back for them. Those bullets had begun to rain down around them from every side. Whether or not that vampire was part of that onslaught or a totally separate enemy Azrael hardly knew. The blond Hunter shifted slightly to allow Raven to find her feet, Azrael glancing around that crate to fire a blast of that light energy and knock one of those armed men backward before that rain of gun fire forced him to pull his head back once more. Where the hell were his own men? A sudden shot from outside seemed to echo in near the same moment that thought had crossed his mind, several of his own men firing back from that doorway before ducking for cover. Raven and himself so essentially caught within the crossfire.

"Well- at least we know that have the fucking weapons."

Azrael lent around that crate once more, firing another light blast to send another man flying before dodging those bullets. This ...was not going to plan.