That stutter is all Geralt needs. He can feel it, a strength which flows through his veins, blooming. His eyes flood black, though he fails to notice.

Instinct fuels him. He doesn't stop to consider what Lucifer may be seeing, what it is that's almost seemed to have terrified the demon. What vision of death has gripped him. Lucifer falters, and Geralt simply takes the opening.

He lurches forward to sink his sharpened teeth into the nearest artery. Because if he cannot have a blade with which to cut a throat, he is not above tearing it out.