Frankie took the high caliber bullets into his face, quickly finding himself blinded by Dorian's furious onslaught.  On the other hand, he didn't need sight exclusively.  "Fe Fi  Fo Fum.  I  smell the blood of an Englishman."  Frankie lowered himself into a charge, thinking the founding fathers of the United States that he'd been built durable enough to survive a couple of high caliber bullets.<br/><br/>He drew closer to Dorian, flailing wildly at him to pull the pistols off target as he threw the ultimate soldier on his side, hoping to get him sprawled out with very few options.  "Your blood doesn't smell English, James.  Smells more... Greek."  Frankie extended his fangs as he loomed over the immortal, ready to move in for a decisive strike.  Pretending to navigate by smell was just another bluff, of course, but it distracted Frankie well enough from the fact that he had more depleted uranium then gray matter in his brain.