The Witch With No Name. Ким Харрисон
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far if you get bitten. A vamp scar is forever, fading in time but able to flair into full potency if properly triggered.
Trent slammed his door, and I yanked my hand from my neck, not even realizing I’d covered it. My head jerked up when Bis flew overhead, wings flashing as he awkwardly slid to a halt on one of the shadowed picnic tables. His eyes glowed red as they found me, and the cat-size gargoyle resettled his leathery wings. His skin had gone entirely black in embarrassment for the ungraceful landing, and the white tuft of fur on the tip of his lionlike tail stood out like a beacon as it flicked nervously.
Pleased, I ambled over, smiling as his skin returned to its usual pebbly gray. If Bis was here, Jenks wasn’t far behind.
“Nice of you to wait for me, snot breath,” Jenks snarled, clearly out of breath as he dropped heavily down onto my shoulder in a wash of silver dust.
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