Zerbrowski gave me a look. Shutting the door was not a good sign either. Not anymore. And the last word was whispered against his chest, still looking up into those eyes, searching his face.
Felt that spark flickering like a match in the wind. But it didn't matter, because Douglas took me past him without a word. I saw the thick viscous punch in the parish hall, and I knew that it contained just a little blood from at least three different vamps. It had felt so good to hold his flesh between my teeth and not to stop, until I tasted that first blood.
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