As if the fear were some horrible beast that could literally eat him up, and destroy him. I couldn't see if Nathaniel was on stage yet, because my view was blocked by a curtain of black-shirted security. Damian just lay in my lap, like the fear had already killed him. Jean-Claude turned from lighting the last candle.
I'm saying that you can bleed out from your femoral in about twenty minutes, maybe less. Please believe that. I told him you were blowing a hole through a vampire's chest. Once, I'd worried I'd drown in his power.
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