Thirty-four
Cathal fed, draining Axe dry. Then he moved on to Car. Yes, Car had fought alongside him, but there was no reason his blood should go to waste. In a way, it was fitting—the last of his life would live on in Cathal.
There was something behind him, but he didn’t react. The grey being, the thing Brice had called a ghoul, drew closer. But it couldn’t have any of this blood. It was Cathal’s now.
The voice was female. It was empty of emotion, though. It didn’t care what he did.
He carried on slurping, taking in Car’s energy. His brother had fed from their kin, during the fight, but he’d drunk from blood-packs before, too—Cathal caught the stale taste as it lingered at the top of his mouth.
Cathal felt a rush of air, then something slammed into his shoulder, sending him spinn
