The blood bag exploded in my hands for the third time.
I stared at the crimson splatter across the Lockwood ruins, breathing hard, trying to understand what I was doing wrong. My control had been reliable since summer—stake formation under two seconds, projectile accuracy at seventy percent—but tonight, everything felt wrong.
Not wrong. Insufficient.
I sat on my usual fallen log and let the frustration wash through me. The ruins were quiet at 5 AM, the forest still dark, the first hints of dawn just beginning to paint the eastern sky. I'd been coming here every morning since Halloween, pushing myself harder than ever, and making zero progress.
Stage 1 isn't enough. You proved that when Vicki died.
The memory hit like a physical blow: my blood tendrils shattering against vampire strength, my desperate attempt to reach inside her, the migraine that followed when I tried to manipulate her internal blood.
That was the key. The moment I'd tried something new.
I closed my eyes and replayed the sensation. When I'd reached for Vicki's blood—the blood flowing through her undead veins—I'd felt something before the pain. A barrier. A wall between my power and hers.
Living blood resisted external control. I'd known that academically since my first experiments with my own blood versus stored blood. But Vicki hadn't been alive—she'd been a vampire. Dead and undead simultaneously.
What did I actually feel?
Cold. Ancient. A pressure pushing back against my intrusion. Like trying to shove my hand through a window that wouldn't break.
The problem wasn't strength. I'd poured everything I had into that attempt, and strength hadn't mattered. The barrier wasn't physical—it was something else. Something about the way supernatural blood existed.
Stage 2 isn't about force. It's about perception.
The realization crystallized slowly. I couldn't affect what I couldn't sense. And right now, I could only sense my own blood and blood I was physically touching. Everything else was invisible to my power.
I needed to develop sensitivity. Learn to feel blood before I could control it.
But how?
The squirrel appeared on a branch ten feet away, probably hoping I'd left food. I focused on it, extending my awareness the way I did when shaping constructs, trying to feel the tiny heartbeat, the blood flowing through those small veins.
Nothing.
I tried for an hour. Different animals—birds, a deer that wandered past, insects. None of them registered to my senses. They existed outside my power's range, invisible in a way that stored blood wasn't.
The sun rose while I sat there, painting the ruins in shades of gold and rose. I let myself watch for one minute—just one—before returning to the problem.
What's different about the blood bond?
Vicki had responded to me. Even as a vampire, even with her supernatural blood, she'd felt my commands through the bond. That connection had been real, powerful, lasting until her death.
Contact. My blood inside a supernatural being.
The bond formed when a vampire drank my blood. Not when I tried to control theirs—when mine entered them. My blood created the bridge.
Maybe Stage 2 required the reverse. Supernatural blood inside me. An interaction that went both ways, opening pathways that didn't exist before.
Stefan's blood had been in the back of my mind since he'd offered it during the training sessions. Vampire blood could heal, could enhance, could create bonds going the other direction.
What if drinking vampire blood unlocks the sensing ability?
It was a theory. Risky, possibly stupid, definitely desperate. But standing still wasn't an option, and I'd already proven that brute force wouldn't advance my abilities.
I packed up my training supplies and headed for the truck. The sunrise was beautiful—warm light cutting through the trees, promise of a day that didn't care about my failures—but I couldn't enjoy it.
I had work to do.
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