Naked, he grabbed a plush towel from the rack, his lithe body taut as he stalked into the bedroom area. The hot shower had done nothing to relax him, and his sleep…. Well, for one of the dead, he sure as hell hadn’t slept like one. He toweled off with brisk, almost vicious swipes, looking out into the darkening Chicago sky. His mood was darker yet. He was angry at himself over last night, over how he had handled the meeting with Kelsey. Or rather not handled it. It didn't help that he hadn’t fed. That he hadn’t allowed himself to. He was painfully aware that releasing the bloodlust in such proximity to Kelsey would be unwise. Yet, it was a catch-22, because the longer he waited, the more his control thinned. Even he could and would snap, and he would be better to be home when he did. He was going back to France. His plan had been for immediately. He'd made the arrangements in a fine temper before settling in last night.
