Today, the only real comfort he could offer was the touch of a friendly hand. Call it a hunch, but when Primo rushed us, I wouldn't want to waste that second. Marconi looked bored. His hands slid along the edge of my jawline, until they cradled my face, and his fingers were buried in the warmth of my hair.
Only taking a little blood, just enough blood, never enough to be satisfied, just enough not to die. To prove it, I stepped back from Truth's hand. I glanced at the wrist in question. What changed? Why these two vampires, why now? I heard it was a hell of a show last night, what the
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