Geraint was not conflicted about Blackvayne.  He didn't hate Blackvayne because Blackvayne was a predator, or even that he preyed on "sentient beings."  Geraint hated the vampire because he thought that Blackvayne would consume the world if given the chance and because Blackvayne thought that people like him made good slaves.  Geraint, himself, had killed dozens of humans, and all predators preyed on the weak.  The weak, after all, were easier to hunt, easier to kill.  To him, this was simply the natural order.  The strong took what they could and the weak endured what they must.  He was on that continuum and he had no complaints.<br/><br/>As they traveled, their tunnel joined another, past a close encounter and heavy roots driven through the concrete, and others branched off.  There were old signs painted on the walls, sometimes legible, mostly not, but Geraint knew many of them.  Some, he advised against going down - radiation or other toxins, or simply nothing but a cave-in after so many yards or whatever.<br/><br/>"Soon," he said.  "It takes as long as it takes."<br/><br/>Shortly thereafter, the now quite large cave entered a much larger space, large enough that the light of Geraint's chemlight couldn't reach the far side or ceiling.  It was an old station where three different lines met, each with several tracks.  On a higher level, though, something had changed - and the people had the wherewithal to set up their trap where air currents wouldn't give away their scent, their odor carried away by the internal currents of the station.  There was a high-pitched whine, though, that gave Geraint the time he needed.<br/><br/>He said, "Back!"  He leapt away and where he stood was struck by what seemed like a small explosion - but the crack and boom was of an iron spike driven by a makeshift railgun.  Still, as Geraint smashed himself against the a wall just out of range of the weapon, there was the heavy scent of blood where a piece of shrapnel either from the spike or an explosion of concrete slashed open his thigh.  He was already changing, this time quickly, uncontrollably, as whatever was inside of him tore its way out.  His change wasn't so much a transformation from one body into another - but like a wolf-demon shaped darkness simply burst out of his skin in a bloody mess.