This is what she needs to distract her from the spreading pain as the muscle contracts around the punctures. She can taste the blood, her blood, mingled with the taste of his mouth.

Her skin is alive, electric with sensation, and she feels almost brittle. (Is that the infection already moving in her? She doesn't know.) Her awareness is fractured between the pain in her shoulder and the sweetness of his kiss.

Her legs tangle with his, her hands pressing him close. There is no strength in her right arm, but still she holds tight to him.