Vincent Graves: Fullkin, Duke, and Gentleman

Despite my hard-won triumph, Vincent still savored the taste of Joseph's blood as if it were a delicacy. 

"Get away from him..." I growled. My footsteps faltered and my mind felt sluggish from exhaustion. Still, I grasped the dagger I had snatched from the captain with unsteady fingers. 

With a fierce determination, I hurled the weapon toward Vincent with all my might. It spun in the air before the honed blade plunged deep into his flesh, causing the pure red of his suit to be tainted black from his oozing blood. 

Vincent let out a groan, his jaws no longer locked onto Joseph's neck in a killer's embrace. Instead, he staggered backward, his hand clawing for the weapon that now protruded from his spine.

"What might this be?" he intoned, his voice smooth and measured, devoid of any trace of anger or fear, as he carefully extracted the blade from his back. He quietly groaned, then pulled it to view in front of him, examining it with a keen interest.