Free Just One Taste by C. J. Ellisson

and learn, and try not to be snarky when Jon reams me for it.
    Could a human have committed this crime? Or could the killer be one of the few vampires who can fly? Maybe they climbed up the side of the building? I guess a human could climb up too, but he or she would need some equipment and there’s no evidence of a tool bag dropped to the ground or lots of footprints which would indicate whoever stood here walked around looking up to gauge the climb before ascending.
    Completing a circuit of the hotel, pristine white snow greets me at every turn. Snowdrifts up against the building are quite high, especially in the corners where the wings meet the center structure. There’s no other footprints in the snow outside any windows, which tells me the killer had no need to go back inside afterward unless, of course, he went in through a door. Which would just be freakin’ great.
    I set off at a sprint down a wide-curving path that leads to the ten outer cabins. Lighted bushes, glowing statuary, and trail markers stream past my vision like traffic headlights in a slow-motion shutter release. Jonathan sniffed around the cottages on the outside, but I want to use my keys and check inside too. Letting myself in to the farthest one out, number ten, I work my way back toward the main building, examining all the empty ones first. There’s no trace of an unknown vamp scent, so I stop outside Drew’s cabin, looking to discreetly check out the occupied units next.
    My body shakes, and not from the cold. I itch as though my skin could crawl right off me if given the chance. Taking a moment to center myself before going those last steps to Drew’s porch would be a good move, not to mention a smart one. The energy leaking out of me needs to be contained before I face another vampire, or the illusion of the luscious-but-average-powered innkeeper would not be complete.
    I begin a mountain pose from my yoga training. It’s the best one to center me when I’m not dressed for a more complex move. Placing my feet hip-distance apart, I hold my hands loose at my sides. I raise my toes in the big boots before planting them down firmly in anchor. My spine straightens, tailbone roots down, chest lifts and shoulders pull back. The connection to the earth feels strong when the alignment is right, enabling me to pull the aura of my energy back inside to lock down tight.
    The yoga teacher I had years ago, Olga, would be proud. She taught me for over fifteen years. Right up until the fact I didn’t age drove me from the town in Germany where we’d met. I miss her and her wisdom. She’s always guiding me in my mind, a calm I can seek in any storm. I hear her voice with its smooth cadence like an echo: You must root to rise .
    Feeling more in control, I step up to the cabin porch. A short rap at the door prompts Drew to open it before I lower my hand. He’s dressed in jeans and a snug Henley-style sweater, and both emphasize his lean muscular build. Brown eyes sit on a pleasant but unremarkable face, and his medium brown eyebrows lift in surprise while he looks me over from head to toe.
    “Vivian, the lovely innkeeper, what a pleasant surprise.” He ushers me inside quickly, closing the door behind me, to reduce the cabin’s heat loss. “I would not have thought it was you out there. Interesting. What brings you out to my cabin?”
    Shit. I should have done my yoga pose a few cabins back. Having no idea what he sensed before my approach, I’m going to go with the “ignore it and it will go away” tactic.
    “I’m looking for an unregistered guest who might be on the premises. You haven’t included anyone in your party without letting the front desk know, have you?”
    Drew smiles while spreading his hands wide. “No, but you’re welcome to check.”
    His expression appears knowing and coldly assessing. I plan to play dumb and get through this as fast as I can. Perhaps talking to people right now isn’t a great idea.
    I wave him off with a