“Blood trickles from my throat, on to Kate's white nightgown. She screams at the sight. 'Jarrod, you're bleeding!''I'm all right, don't struggle I won't let it get to you.”

“Malcom clears his throat and Jarrod spins around, Jillian's amulet reflecting the morning sun. 'Kate!”

“Were you tempted?" "Of course not! Kate would slit my throat." "I'm not talking about what Kate would do to you if you strayed, although I'm of the opinion that she would not start at your throat.”

“He was slumped over, blood trickling from the side of his mouth. I shook his furry hip, thinking, No! Even if you are half barnyard animal, you're my best friend and I don't want you to die!”

“You don't look so much like a great hero,' Jarrah said. 'I'm pretty sure I'm not,' Mack said wearily. 'My throat is hoarse from screaming in terror. I don't think heroes have that problem.”

“I lie in my bed and think about poking something sharp into my skin. To see if it will hurt, to see if I'll bleed, to test whether I'm still alive. I don't though. For one, because moving means effort. Two, because I'm afraid if [I] start bleeding that I won't stop myself from draining all life from my body. Or worse, that I will.”