Iestyn looked up in confusion as Rhiannon approached him, the smell of antiseptic around her like a miasma.
"Stay still," she said, "This will sting a bit." He flinched as the swab touched him, crying out in agony. It was like lemon juice in a paper cut, but magnified by a thousand.
David turned to Patrick, and nudged him. "Does that woman feel immortal to you?" he asked, finally pinpointing what was odd about her.