Blood Price

stakes."

    Vicki frowned. It made a certain amount of sense and she certainly wasn't going to argue for the better natures of her contemporaries. "One of the local stations is showing Dracula tonight."

    "Oh, great." Henry threw up both hands and began to pace again. "More fuel on the fire.
    Vicki, you and I both know there's at least one vampire living in Toronto and, personally, I'd rather not have some peasant, whipped into a frenzy by the media, doing something I'll regret based on the tenuous conclusion that he never sees me in the daytime." He stopped and drew a deep breath. "And the worst of it is, there's not a damned thing I can do about it."

    Vicki pulled herself to her feet and went to stand beside him at the window. She understood how he felt. "I doubt it'll do any good, but I have a friend who writes a human interest column at the tabloid. I'll give her a call when I get home and see if she can defuse any of this."

    "What will you tell her?"

    "Exactly what you told me." She grinned. "Less the part about the vampire actually living in Toronto."

    Henry managed a crooked grin in return. "Thank you. She'll likely think you're losing your mind."

    Vicki shrugged. "I used to be a cop. She thinks I lost my mind ages ago."

    Her eyes on their reflection in the glass, Vicki realized, for the first time, that Henry Fitzroy, born in the sixteenth century, stood four inches shorter she did. At least. An admitted snob concerning height, she was a little surprised to discover that it didn't seem to matter. Her ears as red as the young constable's had been that afternoon, she cleared her throat and asked, "Will you be going back to the Humber tonight?"

    Henry's reflection nodded grimly. "And every night until something happens."

    * * *
    Anicka Hendle had just come off an exhausting shift in emergency. As she parked her car in the lane behind her house and stumbled up the path, all she could think of was bed. She didn't see them until she'd almost reached the porch.

    Roger, the elder brother, sat on the top step. Bill, the younger, stood in the frozen garden, leaning against the house. Something-it looked like a hockey stick although the light was too bad to really tell-leaned against the wall beside him. The two of them, and an assortment of "friends,"
    rented the place next door and although Anicka had complained to their landlord on a number of occasions, about the noise, about the filth, she couldn't seem to get rid of them. They’d obviously spent the night drinking. She could smell the beer.

    "Morning, Ms. Hendle."

    Just what she needed, a confrontation with Tweedledee and Tweedledum. "What can I do for you, gentlemen?" They were usually too dense, or too drunk, for sarcasm to have any effect, but she hadn't given up hope.

    "Well ..." Roger's smile was a lighter slash across the gray oval of his face. "You can tell us why we never see you in the daytime."

    Anicka sighed; she was too tired to deal with whatever idiot idea they had right now. "I am a night nurse," she said, speaking slowly and enunciating clearly. "Therefore, I work nights."

    "Not good enough." Roger took another long pull from the bottle in his left hand. His right hand continued to cradle something in his lap. "No one works nights all the time."

    "I do." This was ridiculous. She strode forward. "Now go back where you came from before I call ..." The hands grabbing her shoulders took her completely by surprise.

    "Call who?" Bill asked, jerking her up against his body.

    Suddenly frightened, she twisted frantically trying to free herself.

    "Us three," Roger's voice seemed to come from a distance, "are just going to stay out here till the sun comes up. Then we'll see."

    They were crazy. They were both crazy. Panic gave her the strength she needed, and she yanked herself out of Bill's grip. She stumbled on the porch stairs. This couldn't be happening.
    She had to get to the house. In the house she'd be safe.

    She saw Roger stand. She could get by him. Push him out of the way.

    Then she saw the baseball bat in his hand.

    The force of the blow knocked her back onto the lawn.

    She couldn't suck enough air through the ruin of her mouth and nose to scream.

    Her face streaming blood, she scrambled up onto her elbows and knees and tried to crawl back toward the house. If I can get to the house, I'll be safe.

    "Sun's coming up. She's trying to get inside."

    "That's good enough for me."

    The hockey stick had been sharpened on one end