Smith had been comfortable enough around the lycanthropes that I'd remembered it. Both her hands were clasped around her purse, clutching it in her lap, as if she had to hold on to something, and his hand wasn't enough. You could still see the pretty round-faced cheerleader she'd been in high school. You get the gaze with the fangs, I said.
He smelled of fear and anger, but nothing else. Blood is as attractive as flesh to me, almost. Nathaniel was at my back rubbing his hands over and over my skin, making soothing noises. I didn't like how suddenly serious he was.
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