There couldn't be anything else. No one else needed blood but Sancho, and the man mentioned how Darius gave someone a home. As much as he knew, it could only be Sancho.
"Blood? Blood!" Darius suddenly panicked. "I need to find a cold container. I can't spoil this with my hands! Right, the salon should have a fridge!"
Darius would run to the salon just as fast, but he felt the winds converge behind him. Moreover, there was this scent of nature and the sea breeze that flitted along with it. The father spun to face behind him, soon having his vision covered by a familiar figure in his dark coat.
With bated breath, Nicholai held onto Darius's arm. "Are you hurt? I came as soon as I could. I felt you drawing power from our connection. Did you get into trouble?"
The father couldn't understand how Nicholai suddenly show up, but Darius only pointed behind him. "A wrecked car and broken asphalt… yeah, there was a fight…"
