Taking the offered towel, she nodded her thanks to the man, using it to wipe the spittle from her mouth as she once again stared at her lover, noticing the blood spray and what could only be bite marks on her face. “Who, what could do that?” she stated, her voice still with a hint of hysteria, but once again the woman had become clinical, concentrating on work to protect her emotions.<br/><br/>Without expecting an answer, she took his hand and stood, staring down at the sticky afoul that drenched her jeans, her need to change immediate. “Before we go, I would like to change my outfit,” she said walking towards her suitcase still stored in the closet.