Isha walked on shaking legs, Rahul's hidden hands on her shoulders. Rapid puffs of air stirred the hairs on the back of her neck in a panicked beat. Her breathing wasn't any steadier, even though he'd made the dash back and forth to the lab on his own before joining her. She only had nerves to blame.
She pricked her left thumb, her right already wrapped with a plaster. A pearl of blood formed on her skin. She drew it across her wrist, a thin trail of sticky discomfort. Giving her thumb a squeeze, she encouraged it to continue leaking, needing more to paint her throat with.
That should be enough. It supposedly wasn't the amount of blood that mattered when you dealt with vampires, just the scent of it in the right places.
Trial by fire for which of Woxell's teachings were lies and which weren't.
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(Chapter 11) - (Chapter 13)