She twisted her head away as he dripped the blood over her lips.
Disappointment dripped from her voice.
Water dripped off her into a puddle at her feet.
Blood had dripped down his face to speckle his shirt.
They dripped streams of water as soon as the sun began its business, the remaining moisture forming dragon-teeth icicles as soon as the cold air touched the droplets.
Water dripped from above and tiny snowballs cascaded down the slope, bouncing off his un-helmeted head and under his collar as his line scoured the bank of snow above him.
An IV in her arm dripped a constant dose of powerful anesthetic.
Frowning, Rhyn pulled a dagger from the wall and tucked it into his belt. He'd never tried tracking anyone through the Immortal underworld before; if Gabriel didn't want to be found, Rhyn wasn't going to find him in the death-dealer's backyard. Sweat dripped down his face in the still air of the cottage.
Katie was quiet, willing the tree roots to be vulnerable to her immunity blood. She hacked at the root again and paused. The area where she'd dripped blood stayed cut while the area around it healed.
Katie nodded and sawed at the root, dripped more blood, then sawed again. She forced herself to continue even as she grew tired. Sticky blood covered the hilt of the dagger, her pants, the root, Deidre's shoe and pants leg. Katie kept on, uncertain what might happen if she stopped for a break.
She unlocked the door and opened it, stepping aside as his tall lean frame dripped through the door.
His gaze drifted to her shaking arm, where blood dripped down her fingers to the floor.
Memon sat, entranced, as her blood dripped down her arm and hand to the floor.
When she found her voice, it fairly dripped with sarcasm.
She forced a wry smile and each word of her response dripped with sarcasm.
He ducked his head to kiss away the ensnaring blood that dripped onto her cheek.
He dripped sex appeal.