Brandon had been in the middle of helping Reg pick Silas up when he heard a scream somewhere off to his right. He turned his head sharply and made Alghren pick up the slack to help Reg get Silas back to the compound, then headed off in that direction. Last thing they needed was more casualties. He looked around for Marchand—where in the hell was he, anyway—but eventually settled on going to figure everything out for himself.
Once he approached, he blinked in surprise.
Wasn't that the Nichols girl? Luke's twin and Rae's cousin? And there was someone trying to kill her. Brandon rushed over and grabbed the man by the shoulder, turning him around and glaring at him. "How about you pick on someone your own size?" he seethed. The man sized Brandon up, and it looked like he was getting ready to hurt him, but that was when Brandon's anger mounted. "Don't think so, pal," he snapped.
Reaching out, he grabbed the man by the throat, and lifted him off the ground with ease. Seemed like that ability was doing more than its fair share today. With minimal effort, he threw the man back into a wall, then pulled his gunblade out and shot him.
For a few seconds, he stared in the direction he'd thrown the man to make sure he didn't get up, and when nothing happened, he looked at the girl. Nichols girl. Telepathy. Thought reading, right? Quiet your mind a little... he thought, then snorted a laugh at the irony of the fact that she could probably hear every word. He walked over to her and crouched down.
Fuck. Blood. A lot of it, too. "Hey," he called. "H-hey, hey, are you okay?" he lifted her head and shoulders carefully from the ground.