~*~*~*~*~

Shane saw the blood first, the pool of blood
that would have killed any other mortal. It was dried and dark red. She stepped
over it, then she saw the bloody handprint on the scanner, and fear finally set
in. Shane put her hand on the scanner; it called out her name and the door slid
open.

She was shocked at the sight that was before her, more blood on the floor, Jo
was covered in it. It looked like someone had slashed her throat. Her lower
jaw, the front of the grey shirt was covered in it, crusting already and her
breathing had slowed to nothing.

This was the second time that Shane had found Jo
in such a state, history repeating itself as she knelt next to Jo.
The fear was gone from Shane, Jo
had called her. Jo needed her, and she was there.

“Don’t feed me…” Jo begged and Shane
stopped, her hand already heading for Jo’s
pocket and the knife that eternally resided there. “Blood… Back room…” Jo
stated and Shane was disappointed, her own eyes
were amber in color already, Jo’s were virtually
white. Pale and dead as a zombie in the movies she so loved.

Shane stood, looking around and then she heard Jo in her head.

The mirror… Shane
went to the tall mirror and saw where someone had pressed their hand to it, she
did the same and it slid into the wall. Revealing a hidden bedroom, so this was
Jo’s lair where she rested when she did rest. A
soft smile came to Shane’s lips, her head
hanging low and she moved into the room. She saw the cooling fridge and moved
to it, opening and pulling out two bags of what looked like blood. She mixed
the blood in the first bag, and walked out again.

“I can…” Shane began, and Jo’s eyes snapped open again.

No. Jo
sent to her, no bothering to try and speak any longer, it took too much effort.
Shane didn’t even seem to realize that that Jo
was speaking to her telepathically.

“Fine.” Shane said in a hurt voice and she
roughly pulled up the sleeve of Jo’s shirt.
There was no tubing and no time to tie off. Eyes closed, her fingertips roamed
lightly until she found the vein. She slid the needle into Jo’s
arm, hung the bag of blood on the lamp of the desk, and squeezed the bag to
start the flow. She took the scene in and thought how surreal it all looked.