She was smaller than Charlotte, with large brown eyes in a delicate, cloud-pale face. Your mother would turn in her grave. Through the stink of mud, petroleum and smoke rolled the smell of blood, heavy and sweet; enticing to the vampire and therefore incongruous amid this horror. I like Charlotte, he said.
html (500 of 711)28-12-2006 21:38:59 A Taste recognised them. Whatever he was implying she didn't want to know, she wanted to push it away. Unless you're a rat or a spider. When she woke they were in Cambridge and almost home, but her head ached and her throat felt dry and sore.
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