Gordon was, like many vampires, uncomfortable watching magicians work their trade, and that never quite went away, especially as he paused to appreciate the potentials of magic users in the form of Anastasia Petrova, who was as ruthless and cunning as they came. She was creative and solution-oriented. At first glance, a vampire had considerable advantages and retained them in a surprise encounter. Speed, strength, ability to heal. 

However, a truly skilled sorceress, like Anastasia Petrova was, had the power to tap into the universe's underlying forces in a way that couldn't be explained, but the engineer in him appreciated that it was a force to be manipulated and that Anastasia sought to understand the rules so as to use them to her advantage. Given preparation, she could overcome the likes of Gordon. Some magicians were fire-slinging thugs, engines of destruction, but it was the subtle ones that exploited connections and figured out how to use magic to get around obstacles that gave Gordon cause for disquiet.

For example, a thing with a connection to another thing, in the magical sense, could have that connection exploited. Which was why the sword sat in the middle of a circle along with other things they'd gleaned from Parael's visions -- the trappings of things childlike that they'd dug up, like a child's book, a diaper, Torah scrolls, his name and the word 'nephilim' written in the original Hebrew around the circle in the blood of a lamb, that being very much a biblical link -- the blood had power. Petrova was not necessarily a scholar of these things, but Gordon grew up with a degree of interest in the classics and was a connoisseur of the Old Testament, so he supplied some of the necessary flourishes to Petrova.

She was working her chant, the old girl in the young body, wrapped in a red, pure linen, that being another connection to the Bible, moved about in a loosely flowing dance that built up a charge through the room, the feeling of humming that penetrated the marble floor and the columns of her chamber. The candles flickered though there was no wind to disrupt them that Gordon could feel as the circle became a battery, and the sword became a focus lens.

As she moved in that agile, flowing way of hers, finely muscled calves and then some displayed in her attire, he reflected that as a mortal man, he might be drawn to the finely couture'd Parisian look that Anastasia favored; the eyes were perhaps a bit too unsettling, though, wise old eyes, hard and predatory, staring out from a haughty nose with a high brow and a mouth that could go stern very quickly. Much as she tried to affect the pose of a carefree, glamorous girl, she'd never be quite that. Too much blood under the fingernails, much like his sire.

Had she not been a wizard and no doubt created precautions against him before he walked in, as he called ahead to announce himself, he might have been tempted to feed upon her then and there; he liked to hunt the dangerous game, after all. But right now, there was more afoot than merely the pleasure of feeding.

With a shudder that he could perceive but not necessarily feel -- certainly not the way Anastasia Petrova did when she cried out her last syllable in the chant and threw herself in the air, as if providing a mighty momentum to something heavy -- the ritual was over, the candles were out and the sorceress was slumped. But she was smiling in that way of hers as she gathered herself up regally and informed Gordon, "It is done."