In the end, he simply said, with all the sternness and firmness he could muster, “I do not desire your help, Mr. Booth. I can take care of myself.” He nodded sedately, sipped his tea, then smiled pleasantly and said, “I would take that comment much more seriously were you not presently wearing a pretty teal but bloodstained flowered tea towel on your head… turban style.”

Raven reached up in alarm, only to feel the tea towel he’d forgotten was wrapped around his head. As he began to unravel it, Paxton added, “Don’t remove it on my account. It looks rather adorable on you and makes you far less intimidating.” Raven growled. He ripped the teal flowered tea towel off.

“what was that?” his editor asked, eyes wide. “You growled.”

“I did not growl.”

“You so did.” Paxton was grinning widely, looking very pleased. “Oh, you men are so cute.”

Raven knew then that the battle was lost. There would be no argument that would make him leave. Perhaps mind control…

It was a skill he tried to avoid using as a rule, and hadn’t exercised in some time. It wasn’t usually necessary, since the family had switched to utilizing a private animal blood and meat bank for feeding rather then hunting. But this occasion clearly called for it. As he watched Paxton sip his tea, he tried to get into his thoughts so that he might take control of them. He was beyond shocked to find only a blank wall. Paxton Booth’s mind was as inaccessible to him as if a door had been closed and locked. Still, he continued to try for several moments, his lack of success more alarming than he would have expected. He didn’t give up until Paxton broke the silence by bringing up his reason for being there: “Perhaps we could now discuss the book-signing tour.”

Raven reacted as if Paxton poked him with a hot iron. Giving up on controlling his mind and making him leave, he leapt to his feet. “There are three guest rooms. They’re upstairs, all three on the right. My room and office are on the left. Stay out of them. Take whichever of the guest rooms you want.”

Then he retreated from the battlefield with all haste, rushing back to the kitchen.

He could put up with him for one night, he told himself. Once the night was over and Paxton was reassured that he was fine, Paxton would then leave. He would see to that. trying not to recall that he’d been just as determined and certain about expelling him after he finished his raspberry tea, Raven snatched a glass and his last bag of bloody meat from the fridge. Then he moved to the sink to squish and pour himself some dinner. He could probably get a quick cup of grounded fresh bloody animal meat kind of like a meat milk shake, while Mr. Paxton Booth was occupied in choosing a room. He’d thought wrong. Raven had just started to pour the blood and squished meat from its bag to the glass when the kitchen door opened behind him.

“Do you have any all-night grocery stores in town?”

Dropping the glass and bag, Raven whirled to face him, wincing as the glass smashed in the sink.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you, I …” He paused when he held up a hand to halt him from forward progress.