Suddenly, the theme song to The Twilight Zone chimed through the house.
"What is that?" he asked trepidatiously. Maybe he had actually walked into Rod Serling's domain.
"Doorbell. It's probably your clothes being delivered."
"Tabby!" Marla shouted from somewhere outside the bedroom. "It's Ben with your stuff."
Valerius stiffened at the crass behavior. "Does he always scream like that?"
"Hey, now," Tabitha said sternly. "Marla is one of my dearest friends on this earth and if you insult her or keep calling her a he, I'll stake your butt somewhere where it'll hurt a lot more than your chest." She dropped her gaze meaningfully to his groin.
Valerius widened his eyes at her threat. What kind of woman said such a thing to a man?
Before he could speak, she left the room.
Stunned, he wasn't sure what to do. What to think. He went to the dresser where she'd left her knife. Next to it was his wallet, keys, and phone.
He grabbed the phone and called Acheron, who immediately answered.
"I need help," Valerius said to him for the first time in two thousand years.
Acheron groaned slightly. "Help with what?" he asked. His heavily accented voice was groggy, as if Valerius had awakened him from a deep sleep.
"I'm in the home of a madwoman who claims she knows you. You have to get me out of here right now, Acheron. I don't care what it takes."
"It's noon, Valerius. We both should be asleep." Acheron paused. "Where are you anyway?"
Valerius was looking around the room. There were Mardi Gras beads draped all over the three-sided antique dresser mirror. Instead of a Persian rug, it was... a giant toy-car road map. There were parts of the room that showed impeccable taste and breeding and parts that were just plain scary.
He hesitated in front of what appeared to be a voodoo altar.
"I don't know," Valerius said. "I hear some godawful kind of music from outside, horns blaring, and I'm in a house with a mohawk cuckoo bird, a transvestite, and a knife-wielding lunatic."
"Why are you at Tabitha's?" Acheron asked.
Valerius was floored by the question. Acheron really did know her?
Granted, Acheron was a bit eccentric, but up until now, Valerius had assumed the Atlantean had more sense than to associate with such low-class humans. "Excuse me?"
"Relax," Acheron said with a yawn. "You're in good hands. Tabby won't hurt you."
"She stabbed me!"
"Damn," Ash said. "I told her not to stab any more Hunters. I hate it when she does that."
"You hate it? I'm the one with the festering wound."
"Really?" Acheron asked. "I've never known a Dark-Hunter to have a festering wound before. At least not externally."
Valerius clenched his teeth at the Atlantean's misplaced humor. "I do not find you amusing, Acheron."
"Yeah, I know. But look on the bright side: You're the third Dark-Hunter she's nailed so far. She kind of gets a little carried away sometimes."
"A little carried away? The woman is a menace."
"Nah, she's a good egg. Unless you're a Daimon-then she can give Xanthippe a run for her money."
Valerius doubted that. Even the infamous ancient Greek shrew had to be more composed than Tabitha.