Chaos. Glas shard lying spread across the floor like some sort of reflection of the state Henrys mind currently were experiencing. The angel had felled one attacker and they had startred to evacuate. They moved trough rain, Veti carrying the wounded Aislinn with her towards the shade gate. Henry looked around, drawing upon all his senses, magical and otherwise, to find where exactly what was going on. As they began to make their escape, he remembered his violin briefly, and headed off to collect it. He needed some form of weapon, wherever they were going after all. Grabbing it by its neck e put it under his arm and stormed back to where the others were.

Iike many times in his life, Henry was late. A white wolf, huge and hulkingm had waited for them. The leader if Henry were to guess. A blade slid into the back of Aislinn with ease and cut her life short. Gods, it was as if he cut trough butter, the blade just parting the tendons, flesh and skin of her back up like a christmas turkey. Henrys eyes wided in shock as the White wolf lept trough the Shadgate quickly, clearly done with his awfull work. The tiny petite package of death that was Siya soon followed in furius pursuit after him but Henry doubted she would catch him. Not that he doubted her speed or powers, but becouse everything was coming apart in the seams. Henry ran over only to see the last of the great wolfmothers life leave her and he felt something cold came over him. He stared at the lifeless body, saw Veti cling to Thad. Saw the absolute grief in the eyes of Hoyle, who had offered him a home once. His fists clenched hard enough for his nails to dig trough the skin of his palm and the strings on his violing to cut into the fingers of his other hand. Red droplets slowly dripped down the strings of the instrument only to get sucked into the infernal thing. The thing drank heavily from the sorrow in the room, swelling in power.

“We will avenge her. I stake my life on it Hoyle.” The Sirens voice was clear, his face without any emotion. Like a blank slate, he was talking in monotone. He turned to the shade gate and stepped closer to it. He seemed to stare at the cold void of the Shadegate for what felt like forever before he turned back to the howling, griefstricken werewolf and the tone in his voice shifted to the coldest, most inhuman sound to ever leave his lips. “I’ll kill them all. Every single fae, werewolf and being who she ever commanded. I’ll kill every one of them. I’ll end this. But remember, you wanted revenge. Cling to it. Love will become hate. Sorrow will become anger. The foe we face now, she sits on all the cards. We might not survive. But I swear, one way or another, I will have vengence. For your sister, for my wife. For every life she claimed and will claim. I stake my very existence on it.” 

And then he stepped inside the shade gate and let the powers fueling it grip at him. As he came out on the other side he looked over their motley crew. Henry looked to the demonic tool he had opted to use and then to the others. He could feel it in the air. This was different from the fight with the vampires. There was so much hatred, so much anger, so much grief. His violin seemed to drink it in, the demonic magic inside it soaking it all up. Good, he would need every bit of it for their upcoming battle. Still uncharacteristically silent, he leaned onto one of the stones and waited.