Just a tease from my current WIP, completely re-written.
Hunting should probably be my first priority, but a tepid glass of blood would have to sustain me until I found out if Trog had died trying to protect me. At least Nikolai had a well-stocked kitchen. I leaned again the cool granite counter top and gulped down the liquid. Licking the inside of the glass to get every drop of nourishment, I waited for the blood to spread healing through my ravaged body.
As I set the empty tumbler on the counter, the clink of glass against rock sounded loud in the empty room. I had to force myself to move before anyone else arrived. Piercing pain shot through my head as I crept toward the front door.
Do you have to monitor everything I do? I knew Nikolai wanted to ensure my safety, but it only made me irritable.
Seeing Dante leaning against the door frame waiting for me came as no surprise.
“Pulled babysitting duty, did you,” I asked. He gave a non-committal shrug of his shoulders, pushed himself upright and yanked the hood of his sweatshirt up over his forehead.
“I volunteered,” he said. “I knew you’d rather I came with you than Blake.”
Thanks, I said, grateful that Nikolai had finally given me a small sign of trust.