Nine:
Waking again, I felt the harsh spots on my neck and cheek had healed. The retreat to the shadows had reinvigorated me. My stomach roared in hollowed ache. Olaf had brought a large container of bagged blood with him, since the lycans were not likely to supply us anything.
My blood sense was still going haywire. I could sense too many signatures around. The vast sea of immortals kept surging into my senses. There was a primal surge of danger in such massive power spikes. Part of me was amazed I didn’t have a panic attack or a stroke. Musky lycan presence brushed over me in every direction.
I walked into the bathroom and was pleasantly happy to see real indoor plumbing. Considering I’d already lived through the Middle Ages, I was in no hurry to return to a time before bathing. Besi
