[@Viciousmarrow][@luclovers]

Thomas scented the air as he ran skidding to a momentary halt as his ears picked up a brief scream. St. Paul’s Cathedral, this was not good. The Wraith couldn’t out climb him, not anymore atleast he’d spent some of his last 50 years scaling sheer cliff faces in Nepal and could climb bare rock free hand. That being said, the lead was too big for his training to compensate for. With a snarl Thomas went to run again before he was clipped from behind by a female. She started to slide and he grabbed her and hauled her to her feet. “who the fuck?..” While he was holding her aloft by her collar he sniffed again. “Malkavians” 

Thomas narrowed his eyes at the woman taking her in for just a moment before leaning in and sniffing her neck. “Gangrel” His lip curled at the word. It wasn't that he had anything against either of the two clans but they were in the middle of this and she had dragged him in. “Your prelate is causing me problems…” A scream echoed from behind him. Whirling Thomas stared up. The girl plummeted towards the ground from twenty stories up off the ground. Thomas mind did the calculations. This was bad, with the Malkavians closing in, another female in tow and now a Ravnos initiate plummeting towards pavement. Making a final calculation Thomas picked up the Gangrel girl and put her on his back. “You owe me for this, besides your prelate just caused me a tremendous headache.”

 Thomas foot crunched tiles as he sprinted there was no way he could maintain the speed but he only needed it to intercept the falling girl. Moving at an absolute blur Thomas sprung like a coiled spring from the edge of the roof across from the Cathedral. At the peak of his jump he slammed into Lyla wrapping his body around her. Thomas did his best to cover her back with his arms and legs tucking her face and vitals against his chest. They slammed through a lower window and Thomas lost his hold on Lyla. The straw haired girl slip towards the edge of a catwalk they had crashed into. Thomas swore in Farsi as she disappeared over the edge. Scrambling Thomas’ arm shot out and grabbed her wrist as she dangled over the edge. The sudden jerk dislocated his left arm sending burning pain through his left arm. “God damn it, Girl!” The rest of the sentence was in Arabic as he freed Elizabeth’s grip on his neck and grabbed Lyla with his right arm. Using a tremendous heave he pulled the girl back onto the catwalk. Rolling onto his back Thomas exhaled slowly. 

What a night to be back in London