Perhaps he would leave him alone now. He thought briefly, but his answer nixed that possibility.” To call an ambulance. You really hurt yourself.” His expression became more distressed as he looked at him again, and Raven found himself glancing down at his front. There was quite a bit of blood on his shirt, and he could feel it streaming down his face. He could also smell it-sharp and rich with tinny over tones. Without thinking, he slid his tongue out to lick his lips. Then what he’d said slipped into his mind, and he straightened abruptly. While it was convenient that he thought the blood was from an injury, there was no way he was going to a hospital.

“I am fine. I do not need medical assistance,” he announced firmly.

“What?” He peered at him with disbelief. “There’s blood everywhere! You really hurt yourself.”

“Head wounds bleed a lot.” He gave a dismissive wave, then stood and moved to the sink to rinse off. If he didn’t wash quickly, he was going to shock the man by licking the blood off his hands all the way up to his elbows. The bit he’d managed to consume before he startled him had barely eased his hunger at all. “Head wounds may bleed a lot, but this is-” Raven gave a start as Paxton suddenly stepped to his side an grabbed his head. He was so surprised that he bent dutifully at his urging… until he said, “I can’t see--” He straightened the moment he realized what he was doing, then quickly bent over the sink to duck his head under the tap so he couldn’t get at his head again and see that there was no wound.

“I am fine. I clot quickly,” he said as cold water splashed on his head and ran over his face.

Paxton Booth had no answer to that, but Raven could feel him standing at his back watching. Then he moved to his side, and he felt his warm body press against him as he bent to try to examine his head again.

For a moment, Raven was transfixed. He was terribly aware of his body so close, of the heart pouring off him, of his sweet scent. For that moment, his hunger became confused. It wasn’t the smell of the blood pulsing in his veins that filled his nostrils, it was a whiff of spice and flowers and his own personal scent. It filled his head, clouding his thoughts Then he became aware of his hands moving through his hair under the tap, searching for a wound he wouldn’t find, and he jerked upward in an attempt to stand away from him. The attempt was neatly thwarted by the tap slamming into the back of his head. Pain shattered through him, and water squirted everywhere, sending Paxton stepping back with a squeal. Cursing, Raven ducked out from under the tap and snatched at the first thing to come to hand; a tea towel. He wrapped it around his wet head, straightened, then pointed at the door. “Out of my kitchen. Out!” Paxton Booth blinked in surprise at his return of temper, then seemed to grow an inch in height as he marshaled his own. He's voice was firm as he said, “You need a doctor.”

“No.”

His eyes narrowed. “Is that the only word you know?”