((Collab with [@JulienJaden] ))

 It was barely a minute into the sprint, and Sander stumbled. He caught himself on the grimy wall of an alley, one hand pressed against his temple. His head just throbbed, all of the sudden. It didn’t even hurt properly, just this odd kind of pressure between his eyes that made the world around him distort in the strangest way. The walls, the streets, everything just… bled out. Their color was stripped away like dry paint under a prying hand, and he found himself staring at shimmering shadows that were almost transparent. Somewhere behind him, he heard footsteps. They were loud. He didn’t even know it was humanly possible to make that much noise by just walking. He turned to look.

 The light almost blinded him. Instinctively, he squeezed his eyes shut, lances of pain shooting through his head. Then they were gone.

 He took a few shuddering breaths, before forcing his eye lids to open again, only to find a stranger standing before him, an unconscious Valorie in his arms. And she was bleeding. That triggered quite a number of alarms in his head, and he was utterly confused. Memories of recent events slammed back into his brain, and he almost winced. What the hell was he thinking? It was a string of bad decisions; first getting himself involved with Valorie’s stupid ruse, then ended up giving a goblin his entire wallet, only to run back here for what? A woman he didn’t even care about. It was like he was drunk the whole time. Something was seriously wrong with him. 

 He straightened up from where he was leaning against wall, barely registered the gun still clutched in his left hand, sizing up the man before him. After a moment of silence, he finally spoke, voice still breathy from the sprint –“Who are you?” 


 Cain had only gone about half a block. The police sirens seemed to come from everywhere and a few firefighters seemed to have joined them. But these backstreets were empty and relatively quiet and it wasn't too far to his apartment and office. The girl hadn't stopped bleeding, despite his murmurs of healing charms - those had never been his strong suit, regular old gauze bandages seemed to do the job much better than anything he could conjure up. Everything he'd need would be waiting at least.

That was when he ran into what appeared to be a junkie cowering in the alley before him, a young man who seemed to have trouble breathing, out of fear, exertion or maybe coming down from a high, his eyes shut. Or at least they were until a second later, when he not only opened but focused them on him, then on the woman in his arms. Cain noticed a hint of recognition in the guy's mimic and saw his posture change, his grip tightening around a gun Francis hadn't registered until now. The question that hung between didn't help with the tension.

But that didn't mean he didn't respond with the same mustering gaze. Or remained silent.
[color=lightblue]"I'm just your friendly neighborhood doctor and this is my latest patient. She'd say 'hello', but..."[/color]
Cain shrugged casually, causing Valorie's head to sway.

[color=lightblue]"So, if you'd excuse us."[/color]
He half-turned away from him, towards the end of the alley.


 The stranger’s answer was suspicious at best, and creepy at worst. You didn’t go around picking up strange wounded girls around here; doing so would be the equivalent of him gathering up unidentified corpses and pilling them up in his basement. Socially unacceptable, or so he was told. So Sander grabbed the stranger’s shoulder as he passed, his grip light but persistent. 

 “Hey, hold on!”- He furrowed his brow, only now noticing a trail of red behind the trenchcoat cladded man –“Wha- Valorie!?”- He called out to her first, but once realized her unconscious state, turning back to the stranger, his voice softened. –“She… isn’t dead, is she?” 

 He remembered. The masked figure, blades in its grip as it ran the Rats down before his very eyes. He ran, but Valorie, well, she did something else. It was her choice, and he wasn’t going to get killed for that. The thought of her dying, though, was rather disturbing, to put it mildly. He couldn’t put his fingers on it, but the memory of those Rats dying kept haunting him. He couldn’t let Valorie ended up the same way they did. Memories of the lights were still clear as crystal in his mind.

 “Where are you taking her?”- He spoke again, this time with steel in his tone. The stranger was taller than him, and while Sander wouldn’t want to get into a fist fight with anyone, he was the one with the gun here.   


 The grip at his shoulder was not unexpected but it still tripped several alarms in Cain's mind. 
Tonight was not as casual as he thought it would be, with a couple of drinks and a friendly Wyrmblood to share them with. Vigilance had still been part of the entertainment alright but by the looks of it, the only alcohol that was of any concern would be disinfectant. And given the soon-to-be high police presence in the area and the unknown element of threat to the woman he carried and to himself for carrying her, being touched by armed strangers was not something he took lightly. Somebody more vicious than him might have attacked outright; but old-fashioned as he was, Cain preferred to know he was facing an enemy before he struck.

Nonetheless, his eyes narrowed and the stranger's steely voice was met with a hard look that showed without fault how unimpressed he was by the gun.
[color=lightblue]"You better be careful, friend. It's dangerous to go around pawing at people you don't know."[/color]

He wasn't without options if it came to hostilities but it wasn't in anybody's best interest to let it come to that. Valorie could certainly do without more cuts and scrapes and while he had had no time to assess her wounds, wasting time could prove unfortunate if they were more serious than he knew. The main issue, however, was that he didn't know the stranger's motive:
Yes, of course the guy could have been a true, concerned friend of hers but the odds of running into somebody like that through pure chance, not far from where she had fought a most dangerous opponent were slim at best - either he hadn't been with her when Vigilance crossed her path or he had abandoned her the instant things got serious. The guy could have been a Rat; if any of the group she doublecrossed had survived, they would no longer be feeling cordial towards her. Or he could have been somebody else entirely, with unknown intentions, which made the possible outcome of this encounter all the more uncertain.

Cain only knew two things with absolute certainty: Since he was the only person here he trusted with absolute certainty, he would be the one taking care of the brave, stupid Demon's Blood user in his arms for now; and he would not allow somebody of unknown allegiance and intention to accompany him to or even enter his sanctuary (read: apartment).

Understandably, his other responses were a little vague but he would have to let on that he had saved her and see how the stranger reacted.
[color=lightblue]"She isn't dead, although she certainly tried her hardest to get herself killed, even after I stepped in. As to where I'm taking her... well, let's just say that after tonight's events, I don't think it's in her or my best interest to have anybody know that until she is back on her feet."[/color]

He mustered the young man again, head to feet. There was something strange about him. There was magic in the air, and not the kind that got you lucky. At first he thought it was just the girl, a residue of the Demon's Blood or maybe some power of her own, but the longer he stood here, the less likely that seemed to him. The problem with this instinct or sense was that you could never tell where it came from. Maybe a mage had died in this alley, or the gun was charmed in some way, or perhaps a wizard had thrown up over that trash can over there. Or it could be the guy himself.

[color=lightblue]"What is she to you? Who are [b]you[/b] and what are you doing here?"[/color]


  It took him far too long to notice the sound of sirens in the distance. Far, but they would be here soon enough. He had minutes at best. Well, they had. He didn’t think the cops would just let some guy carry a bloodied girl go without at least nagging a couple of bucks out of them. He didn’t think they would let him go either, since the gun he was carrying technically wasn’t his. So it seemed he would have to work fast. The older man was surprisingly calm, which unsettled Sander somewhat. He knew this type, all minced words and casual violence. He didn’t think threats would work in this situation, and neither would violence. Why did he think of those in the first place? This was wrong. Shooting a stranger in an alley just a short sprint away from a cop patrol was probably the fastest way of earning a ticket to prison. Or a bullet, if those officers weren’t too keen on paperwork. 

 Sander quickly let go of the man, seemingly surprised that he put his hand there in the first place. He regained his composure almost instantly though as he dropped his gaze to Valorie in order to confirm the man’s statement. She looked a bit worse for wear, battered and bruised and pale at dead, but the steady rise and fall of her chest suggested she was still among the living. For now. If there were any truth in this stranger’s words, that he indeed helped her and was taking her to safety, he couldn’t just leave her. Then again, why? He certainly didn’t have any trouble leaving her before, when the masked figure attacked. 

 The masked thing was armed and hostile, all it carried was darkness. Running was his best course of action then, seeing as how Valorie herself wanted him to, whatever her plan was then. This man was different. He could be talked to. Reasoned with. And for some reason, Sander thought he was weaker. Manageable, should something come up. And Valorie certainly couldn’t deal with this situation on her own now. 

 Sander considered the questions carefully. He knew the stranger was sizing him up again, so he didn’t take too long with preparing his answers. Hesitation often came with dishonesty, after all. Then again, he wasn’t really lying here. 

 “I’m one of her friends. Not from the Rats, mind, I work at the chapel downtown.”- He said without missing a beat, his eyes meeting the stranger’s.-“Look, you can check the message on her phone, probably saved as Sandy or corpse guy or something…”

 He paused then, only noticed the absence of Valorie’s handbag just now. Females and their frustrating habit of keeping important things where they could easily get lost. 

 “-aand she doesn’t have it here. Of course.” –He let out a sigh then –“Alright, I suppose this is rather hard to believe, but I was with her when the, eh, masked thing, attacked. Valorie wanted me to get the goblin out of the way, which I did. Only to come back to this.”-He gestured at the bleeding girl-“So I hope you’d understand that I’m concerned. I can’t just let some strange guy carry her off. At least let me know where you are taking her, if you really wanna help.” 

 He stopped then, waiting for the stranger to make his next move. His fingers twitched slightly, and only then, did Sander realize he was still waving a gun around. Wordlessly, he held the weapon up, only to reveal that fact that the safety had been on the whole time. With that done, he took out the clip, slipped it into the pocket of his leather jacket, then putting the now empty weapon back into its holster. 


 The guy's story didn't seem completely out of whack to Cain. There were many chapels downtown but now that the guy mentioned it, he seemed vaguely familiar somehow. Francis was certain that he had never spoken a word to him or even heard the young man talk before tonight but he could place the build and haircut in one of the corpse collection 'businesses' he had to visit every now and again. 

You couldn't spit in Santa Somabra without wetting somebody you knew, somehow.

But that still left the issue of the magical presence. He could believe that there was some connection between the girl and him, friendly or otherwise, but he was now convinced that it came from [b]him[/b]. It was strange, unlike anything he had ever sensed, but it clung to him like a hint of sweat - even between a million different smells, you could still notice it if you knew that it was there. He had no intention of taking him with them before and he saw nothing to convince him of the contrary. If anything, that seemed like an even worse idea now.

[color=lightblue]"You will not accompany us; I will not allow you to."[/color]
His voice was adamant; he had been calm before but now it was commanding in a way that was different from somebody of self-proclaimed authority: There was a hint of magic to it that bent reality just a little bit, made him look a little bit taller, a little bit stronger, absolutely capable of defending himself and the girl in his arms; but at the same time, it also made what little light shone into the alley more favorable, made him appear friendlier and more trustworthy.

[color=lightblue]"But you are right: I [b]am[/b] a stranger to you, although not to her. Reach into my coat pocket."[/color]
The guy was surprised at first but he complied and found a business card with a splotch of blood on it - the coat was taking the brunt of Valorie's hemorrhage.

[color=lightblue]"Francis Cain, is who I am, and I will bring her someplace safe. If she wants to contact you after tonight, she will, in time. Speaking of which..."[/color] Some of the sirens had stopped, and not too far away. At least some cops were moving on foot. [color=lightblue]"Ours is running out... 'Sandy', was it?"[/color]

He gave the man a hint of a smile and turned away from him again, already taking his first few steps towards home.
[color=lightblue]"You'd do well to leave the scene while you can. The police are looking for a serial killer and getting desperate."[/color]