A vampire’s ability to heal even the most grievous injuries made certain that their bodies remained flawless no matter how many centuries they might survive. It was only when they were being simultaneously starved and tortured that they scarred.
Or when they were in the hands of a demented Jinn. “Bloody hell,” Victor breathed. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
Uriel squashed the urge to snatch up his sweatshirt and cover the revealing wound. What was he? A warrior or a squeamish wuss?
Still, even in the company of the only person in the world he trusted, he felt vulnerable, exposed.
“Don’t ask if it hurt,” he awkwardly muttered.
“No need.” Victor lifted his gaze with a puzzled frown. “You don’t get marked like this without it hurting like a bitch. Does it still bother you?”
“Not physically.”
Victor lifted his hand, holding it over the scar without actually touching it.
“I sense . . .”
“Power,” Uriel finished the sentence.
The silver eyes widened as Victor abruptly realized where Uriel’s sudden increase of power had come from.
“Ah.”
“Exactly.”
“I have to admit I wasn’t expecting that.” Victor slowly shook his head. “Of course, I wondered what had happened to increase your strength, but . . .”
“But you didn’t suspect that the Jinn had juiced me up?”