Vincent leaped up, hissing under his breath. He'd waited too long. Muttering a protection spell under his breath, he rushed towards the source of the sound. He wasn't thinking through the rage and protectiveness that rose up in him at the thought of Sabrina being hurt. With a sickening crash, he tore the door to the storeroom off its hinges.
And stopped. Something was very wrong here. Clearly at odds. He could feel the draw, but this wasn't Sabrina at all, but a small human woman in some sort of mud covered uniform was pointing a gun at him.
"Why do you h-have Ms. Wilson?" Her hands were shaking, but she appeared determined as she deliberately cocked the gun.
Definitely a hunter, but one that had run out of ideas. Shooting only worked with stealth; he could easily dodge or knock it out of her hand. The fact that this felt like deja vu was more disturbing.
"What do you want with my beloved, hunter?" He hissed in her face, and saw her turn pale for a few seconds. Why the hell did that make him feel guilty?
"She's my best friend. I need to bring her back." He couldn't sense a lie, but that didn't mean anything.
"And a witch too, I presume?"
"I don't know what you're talking about."