I did not feed Jean-Claude's blood lust, though there was a shadow of it in me. Once, I'd worried I'd drown in his power. He proposed to Ronnie, and she said no. Nathaniel rolled off the bed, and I wondered if the air was as heavy and hard for him to breathe as it was for me.
I'm saying that you can bleed out from your femoral in about twenty minutes, maybe less. A bonus, Anita, for them beating the hell out of you. But it wasn't either of them who had to chase him down. They were both over six feet, with a shoulder spread that was nearly as wide as I was tall.
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