"I'm not having a crisis," I hissed, peeking out at the man on my porch. "I'm just facing the messenger, that's all. Just a vampire come to do God knows what to me."
"Ray sends his love, by the way, and says he hopes your crisis isn't a serious one," she said in an aside before continuing. "How do you know the man is the messenger? Maybe he's someone else. Maybe he's another religious type. Or maybe he's trying to sell Girl Scout cookies."
I eyed the stranger again as he raised his hand to knock. "He's around six feet tall and is wearing a very tailored black sports coat with matching pants, a scarlet shirt that looks like it's made of raw silk, and shoes that probably cost more than my car."
"That could be anyone," Magda insisted, the sounds of chopping accompanying the words.
"And a fedora that's angled to shade his face from the sun. I covered all this in the dream! Although that messenger turned out to be Andreas, and this guy is definitely not Kristoff's brother."
Silence followed for a moment. "OK, that description does sound like a you-know-what."
"Vampire."
"Yes. Ray, my cherub of delight, that is indeed a bottle of olive oil, but it's Greek, not Italian, and I will not put Greek olive oil in spaghetti. Would you mind... Thanks, love. Mwah." Magda was silent for a moment as faint sounds of footsteps fading away were audible even on the phone. "All right, he's gone again. Pia, you're going to have to let the vamp in."
"I don't want to," I said stubbornly, turning my back on the window, glaring suspiciously at the bedroom. I knew full well that Kristoff wasn't going to walk out of there, as he had in the dream, but I couldn't stop myself from looking. "My life is going really well right now. Kind of. Somewhat. Oh, hell, it's a nightmare, but that's only going to be made worse by involvement with the Moravian Council, or whatever it is the vamps call themselves."
"From what I remember of them, you're not going to have a choice. They seemed kind of pushy."
The knocking at my front door got even louder. Obviously the messenger was getting tired of waiting. "I don't care. I have to get rid of this guy. What is it vamps don't like? Garlic and holy water? I don't have any of the latter, but I have garlic bread. You think that will work?"
"Pia, sweetie..." Magda's voice took on a frustrated tinge as I marched out into the kitchen and dug through a bag until I found a loaf of garlic bread. "I really don't think pretending none of this exists is the answer."
The vamp on my doorstep stopped knocking and was outright pounding on my door now. "Wish me luck," I said, setting down the phone in order to peel back the wrapper on the garlic bread. I wielded it like a club as I swung open the door.
Madga's voice was faint but audible from the phone. "Pia? Pia? What are you... Oh, she is so silly sometimes...."
"I have garlic and I'm not afraid to use it!" I shouted at the vampire, shaking the bread in his face.
He looked at it for a moment; then his gaze shifted to me, a look of stark incredulity on his face. "Bread?" he asked, his voice silky with some European accent.
"It has garlic on it," I said, pulling open the loaf to show him the tiny bits of garlic smooshed into the butter. "So just stay back!"
He reached out and touched the garlic butter, licking the tip of his finger. "Very tasty."
"You're not... Garlic isn't poisonous to you?" I asked, taken aback.
He closed his eyes for a moment, a martyred expression on his face. "No, that's a fallacy created by mortals. I assume you are Pia Thomason? I am-"
"No, you don't," I said, desperately looking around as he started to enter my house. I snatched up the religious newsletter and shoved it at him.
He didn't flinch, or shriek, or run madly away at the image of something religious. He just took it and gave me a long-suffering look. " 'The Watchtower'?"
I slumped against the door. "I should have known it wouldn't work-Kristoff dragged me to a church to marry me, after all-but it was the only thing I had."
He took the garlic bread from me, and set it and the newsletter down on the table next to the door. "Pia Thomason, I am here by a directive from the Moravian Council. As you are no doubt aware, you have been ordered to appear before the council to answer questions that have arisen since the events of June this year. For matters of your safety and comfort, I will escort you to Vienna, and am authorized to meet any reasonable financial needs the journey will impose upon you. The plane leaves in four hours. Am I correct in assuming that you are not yet packed for the journey?"
I picked up the cell phone, saying into it, "It's the messenger, all right, and he's immune to both garlic and religious things. He wants me to go to Vienna."
"I heard. We can watch your house for you if you like-"
"That won't be necessary. I'll call you later." I hung up the phone and faced the vampire. Like the other males of his species, he would have been at home on a fashion show runway. I wondered if it was some rule that all vampires had to be drop-dead sexy. "I told the council when they sent me the e-mail saying you were coming that I had no intention of letting them do any sort of third degree on me. Christian Dante is the head of the council, isn't he?"
The vampire inclined his head in agreement. "He is executive director, yes."
"He was there in Iceland when all the stuff happened. Well, he was there for most of it. I told him then everything I knew, so I have nothing further to say to any of the council."
"You are a Midnight Zorya in the Brotherhood-"