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The audacity of this petulant little worm. Short of Lord Pieron, no man could command the fealty of this 'good little minion', least of all a mage barely on the cusp of womanhood whose only claim to fame was emerging from the womb of an Eve's pet. If this inquisitor thought Chad could be leashed long enough to get away, he was sorely mistaken. He used the time bought by the remainder of Hasgad's pathetic coping to eyeball an optimal angle of attack through the purple kid's gut that would be most likely to avoid eviscerating [i]all[/i] of his vital organs while still popping the inquisitor's bubble of delusion as surely as it ruptured one of his lungs. This proved to be a mistake, as the Dionne girl actually called the pompous fool's bluff. 

Normally, an act of bravery like that wouldn't have been an issue, but the Eve descended upon Chadwick's rightful prey shortly after, evidently no longer willing to hang back as he had been. Ever the gallant bodyguard, was he? Or was the name Donovan synonymous with traitor in the halls of the Astorios for more reasons than one? It briefly crossed his mind to rip the other vampire away and finish the man himself, repercussions be damned, but their useless prisoner - the first one, not Cavatappi - croaked out some inane warning about reinforcements while he cowered hard enough to wedge his head up his own ass or something. This inquisitor must have a grudge against hair dye. Chad couldn't blame him.

[color=00cc66]"No, no; it's fine! I'll get it,"[/color] he hissed, muffled under the roar of flames and chaos of battle. To think someone had honestly considered this backwater worthy of his talents.

And so, with everyone's attention stuck on the more infuriating threat, it fell to [i]him[/i] to pick off the chaff. How utterly degrading. He turned his back to Hasgad flippantly - he was willing to risk one petty last attack from the man as he was reduced to ash - and crossed the room toward the other entrance with measured strides. The door would open and the reinforcements would find not the chaos of a battle in progress to launch their spells into at their leisure, but a hungry predator staring down at them. If Donovan wanted to claim the (dubiously) fine dining for himself, Chad would have to content himself on the buffet rather than wrestle for scraps. Teamwork and whatnot. 

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