What his kind did or didn’t do in public was irrelevant. He saw the vampire attack and took action.He knew he was too late even as he put on his faerie speed. The baluster was down. Belle was flying through the air amidst a cloud of powder from its cracked stone. Five stories up. With a fire truck or a concrete pavement to break her fall. And maybe people on a concrete pavement - which would upset Belle if she injured them. Too horrified to laugh at the absurdity of worrying about that, he leaped into the gulf after her. His wings exploded through his clothes, manifesting too quickly for the garments to finish dissolving. People gasped, above and below, his light show attracting attention. They screamed when they saw Belle falling. Duvall didn’t need his wings to fly, didn’t flap them like people expected. They let him spread out his power more precisely, let him change the laws of physics in his vicinity.Belle wasn’t close enough to change them in hers. The third floor rushed by him, the second by her.
