[h2]Down in the Mausoleum[/h2]

Serenity's opponent raised an eyebrow at bringing up the house of his birth, but didn't say anything as Serenity finally made her move. The mace was avoided with the unnatural ease that came with magical enhancement, head twitched aside in the space between one blink and the next. His response to the attack on his wrist could be considered... inspired. There was a peculiar foolishness in trying to block it [i]with[/i] his wrist, the sword going much deeper than tendons. Almost too easily, the long blade dropping to the ground, still in hand.

But Damon... [i]he[/i] didn't seem bothered at all, for all the space he'd suddenly made between them, merely giving a reproachful tut. "That is [i]the[/i] classic rookie mistake when fighting against vampires, my dear. Most demons, too. All this sort of crippling injury does is ruin our clothing."

He held up the stump for emphasis. Slowly oozing blood--not nearly as much as such an injury would warrant, but enough to stain the sleeve around it and drip in a thin line to the floor, a trail leading back to the severed hand.

That was the warning before said hand whipped around, a baleful red flame flickering into life along the blade as it made a lunge for Serenity's back. Clearly, all concepts of a normal duel were out, now, the vampire dissuading any rush for his person by firing the now-reloaded crossbow between them. 

At this point, it exploding into [i]more[/i] of that barely-illuminating flame couldn't be a surprise at all.