MINA CROUCHED IN FRONT of her wardrobe, clad in underwear and a tank top, her jacket in one hand and the obsidian blade wrapped in a scarf in the other. At a shuffle of fabric behind her, she shoved the blade into the drawer at the bottom, half hidden by her tangle of footwear, then turned around and crawled back onto the bed, where Nicole lay, eyes unfocused.
"There really is no feeling like it. It's a high unlike any other."
"Is that why you do it?" Mina watched the last blood seep from the pinpricks on Nicole's neck. She shifted forward to lick the wound before settling onto her elbows, back arched.
Nicole shook her head slowly. "No. It's my Gran."
"Your Gran? I thought she was dead." Mina paused at her own abruptness. "Sorry."
"It's okay." Nicole sat up and crossed her legs into h
