From outside the room, she could faintly hear the sound of voices talking. Hunter? She tilted her head, listening. The other had to be Cage. They were speaking in whispers. Curious, Amalia rose from the bed, tiptoeing toward the door when the smell of blood met her nose. Looking around and then finally at herself, she saw traces of blood on her hands. Scanning the room, a pile of clothes lay in a bag off to the right. They were drenched in blood.