" The scent of my blood was mesmerizing in its intensity, a luscious, potent, ethereal haze that clung to the walls of the bathroom. It was far more intense than the opening of the vial itself. It was like a thousand ruby red vials. A million. It filled the room like an actual presence, and it dawned on us both at the same time that my blood not only contained the scent, but was the scent itself.
Leather, like warm Egyptian incense, like a dark library in an old city.
Jasmine, like the sweet, sweet scent of decay.
Fire, like hot darkness.
And red velvet rose, like a sheath of light and lilting femininity. "

― Margot Berwin , Scent of Darkness