"You don't want to do that, Alex."
I'd flitted down the stairs from the bus as silently as possible, though Alex probably didn't notice anyway - he was too engrossed in his food. I shuddered at the thought.
"Alex." I said louder, trying to draw his attention.
He was straddled across Marco's chest, pinning him down. The hunter thrashed about, trying to get free, but Alex just shifted his position slightly, to make himself more grounded.
At my words, he paused and for a moment I thought he was going to stop.
I'm a fool for thinking that.
He pulled a knife from the strap on his left arm, bringing it up to his eyes to examine the blade. It was serrated on one side, smooth on the other, with speckles of rust disturbing the uniform shine. My stomach flipped.
"Stop it Alex, put that down!" I lurched forward, putting a hand on his shoulder and pulling him sharply back.
He didn't fall like I expected him - he didn't even lose his balance. Instead, he twisted, still planted firmly, to look me in the eye. His own eyes were a vibrant red, indicationg just how hungry he was, and I gasped at the expression on his face - he was wild and frantic, his jaw taught. The chances of stopping Alex from feeding now were less than slim.
Without a word, he held the knife up in front of me, and dropped it. It fell to the floor, bouncing away into a patch of grass.
I should have been glad that he did what I asked. But then he pulled out one of Marco's many knives. He pushed me away with a firm hand, and I lost my balance, landing on my butt with an 'oomfph' sound.
"Give that back!" The hunter screamed, tossing wildly. Alex shifted, kneeling on Marco's arms.
"Stay still." He grunted. "I'm not going to break it, I just thought it would be more fitting to have you turned by your own knife."
Marco's eyes widened as Alex pressed the tip, sharpened to a point, of the gilted blade to his wrist.
I barrelled into Alex, aiming low, and we both were propelled into the grass, away from Marco.