Blood match
“Don’t get upset with me, but I called the owner last night. Since he owed me a favor, he’s willing to sell you one of his new donors.”
I flinched internally. The words sounded clinical, but the idea behind them was anything but. Buying a donor. Like I was bartering for livestock, a prized cow, a resource to be used and discarded when no longer needed.
Doc blinked, voice dangerously calm,
“Sell one to me?”
Shelby nodded, eyes darting away briefly before meeting Doc’s gaze again.
“He doesn’t want an unfortunate accident—like with the last three donors—that walked in here and ended up buried in your cemetery,” his voice trembled with reluctant sympathy.
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