Blood Price - By Tanya Huff Page 0,69

almost gentle.

From where she sat by Druxy's back wall, Vicki could see the door as well as most of Bloor and Yonge through the huge windows. She'd decided this story was too important to chance a possible misunderstanding over the phone and had convinced Anne to meet her here for lunch. Face-to-face, she knew she'd have a better chance of convincing the columnist that the press had a responsibility to ensure that there wouldn't be another Anicka Hendle.

She picked at the rolled cardboard edge of her coffee cup. Henry wanted the press coverage of the "vampire situation" stopped to protect himself, and Vicki had been willing to do what she could. She should have realized that Henry wasn't the only one in danger. The cardboard ripped and she swore as the hot coffee spilled over her hand.

"Some detective. I could've smacked you on the head with a two by four and you'd never even have noticed I was there."

"How... ?"

"I came in the little door in the east corner, O investigative one." Anne Fellows slid into the seat across from Vicki and dumped the first of four packages of sugar into her coffee. "Now, what's so important you had to drag me out in the rain?"

Prodding at her pickle with a stir stick, Vicki wondered where to begin. "A woman got killed this morning... "

"I hate to burst your bubble, sweetie, but women get killed every morning. What's so special about this one that you've decided to share it with me?"

"This one's different. Have you talked to your paper today? Or heard the news?"

Anne rolled her eyes over the edge of her corned beef on a kaiser. "Give me a break, Vicki. It's Easter Sunday and I'm off. It's bad enough I have to wallow in this shit all week."

"Well, then, let me tell you about Anicka Hendle." Vicki glanced down at her notes, more to settle her thoughts than for information. "It started with the newspapers and their vampire stories... "

"Not you, too! You wouldn't believe the nut cases that've been calling the paper the last couple of weeks." Anne took a swallow of coffee, frowned and put in another sugar packet. "Don't tell me-the kids are scared and you want me to write that there's no such thing as vampires."

Vicki thought of Henry, hidden away from daylight barely two blocks from the deli, and then of the young woman who'd been impaled with a sharpened hockey stick, the force of the blow not only killing her but nailing her to the ground like a butterfly on a pin. "That's exactly what I want you to write," she said through clenched teeth. She laid out each gruesome detail of Anicka's story as if she were on the witness stand, all emotion leeched from her voice. It was the only way she could get through it without screaming or throwing something.

Anne put down her sandwich early on and never picked it back up again.

"The press started this," Vicki finished. "It's up to the press to end it."

"Why call me? There were reporters at the scene."

"Because you told me once that the difference between a columnist and a reporter is that the columnist has the luxury to not only ask why but to try to answer it."

Anne's eyebrows went up. "You remember that?"

"I don't forget much."

The two women looked down at the notes and Anne snorted softly. "Lucky you." She scooped them up and at Vicki's nod stuffed them in her backpack. "I'll do what I can, but I'm not making any promises. There's screwballs all over this city and not all of them read my stuff. I suppose I can't ask where you got this information?" Much of it had been minutia not normally released to the press. "Never mind." She stood. "I can work around it without mentioning Celluci's name. I hope you realize that you've ruined my Sunday?"

Vicki nodded and crushed her empty cup. "Happy Easter."

"Henry Fitzroy is not able to come to the phone at the moment, but if you leave your name and number and a reason for your call after the tone, he'll get back to you as soon as possible. Thank you. If that's you, Brenda, I'll have it done by deadline. Stop worrying."

As the tone sounded, Vicki wondered who Brenda was and what it referred to. Then she remembered Captain Macho and the young lady with the heaving bosoms. The concept of a vampire with an answering machine continued to amuse her even