Crimson Death(2)

“It’s eleven a.m. here,” he said.

 

He wasn’t home in New Mexico then, so I asked, “Where are you?”

 

“Dublin.”

 

“Dublin what?”

 

“Ireland,” he said.

 

I sat naked and shivering on the floor, scooping through the pile of clothes around me like a bird trying to make a nest, and tried to think. I failed, so I asked, “Why are you in Dublin, Ireland?”

 

“For the same reason I’m calling you, Anita.”

 

“Which is?” I tried not to get irritated at him, because it usually amused him, and Ted usually took longer to tell anything. Edward was far more abrupt. Yes, they were the same person, but Edward was more of a method actor, and trying to get him to break character wasn’t a good idea.

 

“Vampires.”

 

“There aren’t any vampires in Ireland. It’s the only country in the world that doesn’t have them.”

 

“That’s what we all thought until about six weeks ago.”

 

“What happened six weeks ago?” I asked, trying to burrow myself into the clothes on the floor for warmth.

 

Someone from the bed above me threw my robe on top of me. I told whichever of my leopards had done it, “Thanks.”

 

“They had their first vampire victim,” Edward said.

 

I slipped into the robe, using my chin to hold the phone against my shoulder. The black silk robe was better than being naked, but silk isn’t really very warm. I kept meaning to buy something with a little more heat retention, but it was hard to find sexy and warm at the same time. “Vampire victim, so dead?”