Bridgette's bottom hit the ground hard, but that didn't stop her. She scurried backwards as her friend approached. Everything was wrong, wrong, wrong. A completely ration part of her mind whirred about trying to figure out what was happening. She knew subconsciously that magic had to be involved. There really wasn't another explanation. Magic was openly practiced in Europe. In fact those who could do magic were respected by those that couldn't. Technology and magic were two different sides of the same coin. Everyone used items that used magic or electricity, it was so common no one really thought about it. 

The majority of people couldn't do magic. And the majority of those people had never seen magic done, for most of the art was far too subtle for most to even realize it had been done. Needless to say poor Bridgette wasn't really getting what was happening to her. Even when Nadia raised her hand and dropped it, the knowledge of the action far escaped the redhead's comprehension.

The pain did not however. Bridgette opened her mouth to scream, but the sound got stuck in her throat as every fiber in her body cried out in pain. She grasped at her chest which was now bleeding. The red blood flowed freely down her torso and onto the hard wood floor. Her hands scrabbled in vain to try and stop the bleeding. All the while Nadia smiled over her, her hand raising again.

Bridgette closed her eyes tightly at the sight. She was going to die. It was over. Her life was finished before her twenty-first birthday. Then something made a loud noise. Bridgette tried to open her eyes but they were so heavy. And she was so tired. Another sound threatened to wake her. But it was far off and none of her concern anymore. Everything was fuzzy around the edges and she didn't want to do this anymore.
---
What had been Nadia raised his, no, her hand to finish the girl before him. As he, she, dropped her hand his power fleed. Wisps of it dropped away like water down a crevice. He gasped and staggered as her magic failed. Had he pushed himself too much too fast? There would be time enough later for that. Everything around him was foreign, Even his womanly body. He forced her legs up to support him as shouting came from down stairs. He lips curled back into a snarl. It was time for a strategic retreat. 

The Warlock allowed the girl's legs to lay him on the ground and he closed his eyes, as if she too had been attacked. When a door opened somewhere near, he heard a small cry from a woman. He had to force himself not to smile. Voices in a familiar tone chatted nervously about how to save the red haired girl, the only witness to what had happened. Could he trust them? Doubtful. So she kept her eyes shut, biding time until he could escape. Within minutes the man took away the girl apparently named Bridgette to run her off to the hospital.

The woman, who was the girl's body's mother, remained. As she cried it was easy enough to grab a cylindrical object and his the woman over the head. His eyes opened and he smiled at the prone woman. He reached over to steal her life force, her hand closing in on her heart, Then, another sound. He Warlock hissed, a reptilian sound. He gathered his frail feminine body and crawled through the hatch in the floor and into the main part of the house.