Bezrael leaned his huge weight against the railing of the catwalk that ran above the dancefloor of the club, pitch black eyes scanning the crwod lost in thought. The demon wished nothing more than to kill every last one of them, to bathe in the blood flowing from thier broken bodies and revel in the death. A shiver ran down his spine at the thought of death and killing, his eyes glittering with an inner light. He sighed and looked up, watching the lights from the lamps high above play of the bodies below. He sighed heavily, thinking how easy killing them would be.
You can't kill them a voice whispered, echoing through his head eerily I won't let you.
Bezrael hissed at the sudden intusion in his mind. 'Leave me be,sister' he muttered almost inaudibly, 'You have me bound well, to well to kill all this....' he was silent for a minute, thinking of a word which could describe the filth, 'scum.' He said finally.
There was no reply forthcoming from the voice that bound him, but it was a silence that had an almost smug quality. Bezrael growled. He could probably work up the will to break the bindings and kill one or two mortals, but to kill more would take a feat of power he did not currently posess, and would probably result in the Ring once again possesing him.
'Damn it,' he growled, voice barely heard above the loud music of the crowd.

There was this certain silver haired telepath down in the crowd of people that suddenly felt like he was hit with a ton of bricks. He was meeting a client for an advertisement sheet for this particular owner of the club. His work was over for that day and he was just crossing minds til he hit something strong.

Visibly, he was shaken. He grew pretty pale and green eeys darted around, looking for the source of the problem. That person was angry and -strong-. Looking up, he nearly fell over. He locked onto who that was and well, he was terrified stiff.

The little telepath had a hand clutched over his heart, trying to still it. His eyes started to glaze over, having a problem. He was having a hard time withdrawing from Bezrael's mind. It was like he had a web and Audrey was the fly. Though, this fly was determined not to be eaten.