Victoria nodded her thanks, and headed toward the hall he indicated. She paused, turning her head toward him as Illyad answered her second question. She swallowed at the reminder of Alex’s injury.
	[i]But, vampires heal quickly.[/i] She stared at Illyad a moment, his conversation turning inward. [i]Don’t they?[/i] A drip of blood sliding down her arm reminded her of her destination. She turned her attention from the warlock, and went to the bathroom. She closed and locked the door, her hand still gripping the handle.
	Victoria leaned her forehead against the door and let out a quivering breath. A sob bubbled from her chest, and she felt tears well in her eyes. She wanted to curl up in a corner and pretend that everything was just a nightmare, that she would wake up back in the dorms and Alex would be the Alex she had known, that the college was not in danger, that Luc and Nyaira were nothing more than figments of the darkest parts of her imagination. But it was not a dream. The gentle stinging that had started to radiate from the cuts attested to that. The college was soon to be under attack. And she was being hunted by the some of the deadliest of hunters. 
	Her mind shifted to her aunt and uncle. She inhaled at the sickening thought that they could be used against her. They were fighters, the leaders of a branch of a supernatural resistance group, but they were only human. Panicked, she reached to grab her phone, to call them and make sure they were okay, but realized she had left her purse in Nyaira’s car.
	“You’ve [i]got[/i] to be kidding!” she cried.
	She hurriedly grabbed a wad of toilet paper, held it against the cuts to stop the bleeding, and rushed out of the bathroom to the only person she had to help her. 
	“Illyad!” she called, stopping at the hall’s opening. “My aunt and uncle. The vampires. They wouldn’t...” She could not bring herself say it. “Would they?”