I open the door to find a body at my feet. The rich smell of blood causes my canines to lengthen. Reaching out in the darkness, I flip on the switches. Light comes on across the room, illuminating the dead guy lying face down in front of me. The whole scene makes me wish I'd stayed in bed today, curled up next to my warm husband. "Crap, look at the rug." Okay, out loud that sounds rather dispassionate. Whoever this poor stiff is, he's dead. I'm the one left with a huge mess on my hands and guests arriving within the hour. Good thing I caught this before one of the maids did. Their screams from the last time were a devil to calm down. Reaching out with my mind, I connect with my husband in a soft electrical tingle of sensation. Rafe? There's a dead guy in suite six. We've got to move fast before the next group arrives. Rafe's rugged face appears in my head. My extended consciousness lets me see the room around him as well as hear his thoughts. He's leaning against the sink in our private kitchen, wearing a robe, a steaming mug of coffee in his hand. Does it look like an accidental overfeeding? His mental voice sounds incredulous. We haven't had one of those in years. No, there's way too much blood. Can you come up here and help me? Sure, Dria. I'm fresh out