Desmond turned his back to Beth then, straightening slightly as he looked down at his bloody glove and then opened his eye. The blade hadn't cut the eye itself, but it had come dangerously close. Balthazar would have been disappointed, if he had still been alive. It was then, of course, that the smell hit him. She hadn't been cut, but still, even this close he could smell every inch of her. And the fragrance of her blood beneath her skin. She was untouched, which only made the hunger that much more voracious.
Groaning, he started to stumble away from her, in the hopes of getting some air.