Bennett fell back. She was close to passing out, and spasms of electrifying pain were radiating through her entire body. She’d lost a tremendous amount of blood, and while it wouldn’t end her life, it had weakened her, and Bennett didn’t want to waste what strength she had left by arguing. Bennett needed all she had just to keep her beast at bay, for the craving of the warm blood in Ruby’s veins was becoming almost too strong to deny. “There are a few more in the fridge near the sink.”

“See, wasn’t that easy?” Ruby hurried into the kitchen, and opening what appeared to be an under-the-counter wine cooler, she pulled out the remaining three bags of blood. Returning to the living room, Ruby placed them on the coffee table. “And what about towels? Where do I find them?”

Bennett fisted her hands. “Why?” she growled through gritted teeth.

“Because you’re bleeding like a dam broke, and if it leaks through the floor to the apartment below—”

“In the closet down the hall on the left,” Bennett said, swiping her arm in that direction. “Get them, and then get the hell out of here.”

Ruby rushed down the hallway, paying no mind to her surroundings as she did. It took no time at all to find the linen closet, and grabbing a stack of towels, she was about to return to the living room when she caught her reflection in a mirror. Ruby stopped dead in her tracks, and her shoulders drooped. A smear of blood in the shape of a hand painted her neck, and more had found its way to her clothes. What was once one of Ruby’s favorite ensembles was now ruined. “Well, shit.”

Ruby stomped over to Bennett, and dropping a few of the towels into the puddle, she placed the rest within Bennett's reach. “Is there anything else you need?”

“How in the hell are you taking this so calmly?” Bennett said, reaching for a towel to hold against her cheek. “You’re fetching me blood, and you’re fetching me towels as if…as if you’re taking a walk in the park. Why haven’t you screamed your head off or run to get a neighbor, or...or gone in search of a stake to drive through my heart?”

“Um...okay, so that last part never crossed my mind, but as far as screaming or running to get a neighbor, a few minutes ago, you could have killed me, but you didn't. That tells me, or at least I hope it tells me, that you're not a cold-blooded killer. You were acting out of instinct, and I guess I am, too. I mean, look around. It looks like a massacre took place in here. You’ve been ripped to shreds, and me just leaving without trying to offer help...well, that's not who I am.”