Amadeus & Hounds
It was times like these that Amadeus wished that he had full control over fire. To shape it. Move it. Extinguish it. To do anything but create it and withstand it. Maybe, just maybe, he would have been able to have done more than he had.
Nevermind that he had done more than most could have. Or would have.
Not as much as Anastasia herself had though. And so the Sheriff pressed deeper into the club. There was little hope of finding her. There was too much burning rumble falling in around him now. It was getting so he could barely push forward anymore without a new chunk of ceiling blocking his way. He was using up too much blood and energy trying to continue on.
Then he heard it. The groan of the building managed to be louder than the sounds of flames that roared in his ears. It was coming in on itself. This was in. There was no more that could be done. Only God, or Caine, or Lilith, whichever one that one choose to believe in could help Anastasia and anyone else who reminded now.
Another groan and then a swoosh as the building went down. Amadeus could feel the compression of the air around him as he teleported himself out—
—and managed to land as a soot-covered mess at his lover's feet.
All around them now it seemed as if it was snowing as ash from the Blue Velvet went up into the air with the collapse and fell back down around them all.