27Band-AidsTazia woke shortly after dawn, lying in Conn’s bed. The pillow was still a little wet-hair damp from the shower she’d taken just before settling down to sleep a few hours ago. She’d scrubbed off the layers of vampire blood, dust, and ashes that had stubbornly stuck to her since the building collapse and crawled into his bed, exhausted.
Sitting up, she ran her hands over her hair, trying to prevent too many sections sticking out at odd angles. It would need wetting again most likely.
She took inventory of her injuries: a few aches and pains, one bad bruise on the side of her face, and a long cut across her knee where she’d stumbled onto a piece of jagged glass that had flown from the warehouse window. Conn had patched it up for her, then covered it with gauze. It was quite nice
