Chapter Fourty Three

Isabella watched as they opened blood bag after blood bag and fed them to Samson, who finished them in seconds. Then his head fell back on the pillow. 

“I’ll give him mine.” Isabella said without thinking. Without hesitation she pushed the sleeve of her sweater up.

“No . . . ” Samson’s voice was weak but determined. His eyes cast a pleading look into Mark's direction.

“He won’t let you,” Mark explained.

Isabella gave him a surprised look then shook her head. For once she didn’t give a damn what anybody did or did not want her to do. She would not sit idly by and let him die.

“I don’t care. He’ll take my blood.” she said. 

“I can’t let you do that, Isabella. Samson doesn't want you to. Raymond can rush out and get more blood bags.”