The vampire hissed, his hand at Eve’s throat. His friend had his hand at Nixion’s throat. Mist knew that they could easily rip out their throats if they so felt like it. The first vampire looked straight at Mist.
“Give it to me,” he said, his grip tightening. Mist cringed as Eve winced. He looked down at his hand, which held and amulet. To the right person, this could be a weapon of death. And the vampires were the right people. He looked up at the vampires, then back at Sheldon, who shook his head. He couldn’t stop them in time to save their lives.
Mist looked at Eve again, then at Nixion. Nixion eyes widened and he shook his head. Don’t to it, his eyes pleaded. He knew that Mist was seriously considering giving it over.
Mist’s had his gun, his gloves and one of his knifes taken away. He had one knife, which was in his other hand. He could throw the knife at one of the vampires, hoped it hit, watch the other person get their throat ripped out and get Sheldon to teleport them away. He could hand over the amulet, get both his friends and be responsible for the death of millions. Or he could teleport away, taking the amulet with him, leaving both of his friends to die and saving millions.
What the hell should he do?