Snippet #2638836

As the metal slid into place over the manhole, Daryl heard the shik of a gun before the street erupted with a cacophony of bullet rounds. Instinctually he had grabbed hold of Charlotte and pulled her out of the way of the hail of gunfire with supernatural speed. He moved them from the middle of the narrow street against one of the brick buildings, putting himself in front of Charlotte with his hands enclosing her protectively on either side of her head.

No doubt the men attacking them were Warriors from the smell of the gun smoke tinted with silver. He panted with adrenaline and rage, looking down at Charlotte's fearful face. He could hear them coming up behind him and he prepared himself for attack; his nails grew into points from his finger tips and his eyes lighted themselves like embers into yellow fire before he spun around to face his opponents at the last moment. With his animal instinct overriding he could assess and dodge his enemies' expertly trained movements. He stopped the dagger aimed to plunge into his back, grabbing the man wielding it by the forearm and tossing him aside.

Charlotte was frozen in fear, just as she had been back at Gray’s security Firm when she was first taken. These antediluvian brawls were downright paralyzing for the untrained and very mortal. Never mind that she was on the opposite side of the battleground now, rooting for the monsterous creature instead of the men who opposed him. He had shielded her with his very body, his life over hers...

Many of the Warriors had given up their guns in favor of hand to hand combat, but a select few still took aim now that Daryl had stepped out away from Charlotte. Gunfire cracked like lightning as volleys of silver bullets whistled past Daryl, narrowly missing him, and sank deep into the building side only a few paces away. The argent sheen of the deadly shells implanted in the wall filled her soul with fear and revulsion. She was at war with herself, a micro battle amidst the actual fight, torn between sinking down onto the ground in a protective ball or throwing herself between Daryl and these soldiers. Either option rendered her useless. She was no fighter, nor was she a coward she realized. But what could she do? She watched in horror as Daryl pitched the men about like rag dolls, his ferality intimidating. She wondered at when he'd reach the point of losing himself and become a beast.Would he kill? Her feet tore from the pavement as she locked onto the arm of one of the Warriors prepared to leap into the fray. "Stop! He was releasing me, you don't understand!" She cried over the growls, shouts, and artillery fire. She tried to wretch him backward but he reflexively elbowed her in the stomach, knocking her to the pavement. He spun on his heels and finally took notice of her, scooping her off the ground by an iron grip on her forearm to shove her in the van no doubt. Target acquired.

Daryl let out a feral growl that registered in the pit of everyone's stomach as he turned a lethal gaze on the warrior that had knocked Charlotte down and was now dragging her towards the black van. The man paused and looked. It couldn't have been the first time the Warrior had been in a fight with a werewolf - on the other hand though, he knew it was one thing to be at war with werewolves and another to make a personal enemy of one. And in that moment he realized he made a fatal error by handling this woman in a less than gentle manner.

Daryl was ready to charge the man when another Warrior stepped in the way raising his gun at him. He knocked the gun sideways with an elbow, but the warrior quickly recovered and swung back around again to take aim. This time he attempted to get the gun out of his hand by gripping the warrior's wrist, only to be taken under the arm and with just the right footing by his opponent, was lifted and tackled to the wet pavement. His teeth rattled in his skull but on the ground it was no contest - he shifted his massive weight on top of the man, pinning him to the ground between his knees and raising his clawed fingers ready to end the fight with a single slash across the throat.

"NOO!" He heard a hoarse scream through the red fury clouding his mind. His hand froze in mid-air and he looked up to see Charlotte, her hand extended out as if to stop him physically though she was out of reach. Don't do this. Her eyes pleaded with him. For a moment his hand remained suspended, but then it slowly lowered itself down to his side.The yellow glow in his eyes flickered out and he put up no more struggle, unlike any other time where he would have done anything to escape. He was forced to remember himself and not prove to these men -- or more importantly to Charlotte -- the monster he was. He allowed himself to be overtaken and was kicked off the warrior by another and then held down with a foot between his shoulder blades and gun to his head.. "You make one fucking move this will be one bullet you'll never recover from." the man holding the rifle to his head threatened in a dark gravelly voice.

After they had secured him in silver-lined cuffs he was hoisted to his feet. Daryl felt like an adult pretending to be dragged by children. He could have easily shaken the warriors holding him on either arm, and they must have been aware of this too, feeling the strength in the unusual density of his muscles. They quickly took him to the van, shackling him in one of the metal benches within and started loading into the van. Whatever was compelling the wolf to remain calm they hoped would last until they got to headquarters.

Charlotte was seated across from him, though she required no cuffs for obvious reasons. She felt as if she were in a prison transport as they all packed in along side her a little too close for comfort. Guns firmly clasped in their sweaty palms, all feeling that sense of unease. "Everything is going to be alright now Mrs. Davenport, you're safe." One of the soldiers stated remembering himself; that this had been a rescue mission in conception, that she had been the object of said mission. She locked eyes with Daryl, determination settling into her jawline. She may have been safe, but he most certainly was not and she'd just have to see to that. She swore by the heavens above that no harm would come to him. It just couldn't. Guilt ate at her insides, a cold, slimy snake coiling up in her stomach and injecting venom from a set of sharp fangs to remind her who was to blame here. Had she not been so concerned about the life of one soldier who sought to slaughter her love and all like him, Daryl could have dispatched the men by now and escaped to safety. This was on her. She just couldn't bare the thought of Daryl's beautiful albeit rough hands bloodied. He was much more than a monster, and so much more than just a man...This wasn't the end. Not by a long shot If her name wasn't Charlotte Davenport.