The moment the memory came to her, she pulled her hand from her head, the wound healing no sooner than she had removed the object that inflicted it, and opened her eyes. Her blood. Her blood could heal him.
	Hoping she would be in time to save Trevor, she actively avoided looking to Riley as she returned to her friend's wounded side and raised the hand freshly painted in crimson over it.
	“How much will it take?” she asked Riley, her words coming out in a quick jumble. Even before he could answer, she used her other hand to brush the thick red from her skin, making it drip on Trevor’s gaping gash.