~~~
I heard voices. Myra, Ryder, Jean. I knew there wasn’t sand under me anymore, knew I was wrapped in a warm, heavy quilt, a pillow under my cheek. I didn’t know what time it was, didn’t have the strength to open my eyes.
The wash of deep healing spread through me. I wasn’t sure which creature or god they’d gotten to take care of me but it was wonderful. Marvelous.
“Sleep,”Old Rossi said quietly in my mind.
At least I hoped it was Old Rossi. I’d had my fill of strange vampires touching me.
Before I could panic about that, I slipped back into oblivion.
~~~
Morning sunlight streamed in through my window. It was warm on my bare arm, warm on the side of my hip.
It wasn’t burning me to a crisp, so I apparently hadn’t turned into a vampire.
Go, me.
“Your sisters are in the other room, waiting for you to wake up.”
I opened my eyes. Was surprised that I didn’t feel too bad, all things considered.
The memory of healing washed through me again. I wondered who they’d ask to fix me.
Old Rossi sat in the chair at the foot of my bed, his elbows resting on his soft, worn-out blue jeans, his fingers linked, the first two pressed against his lips.
His ice blue eyes watched me. I didn’t know why I’d ever thought they were cold or inhuman before. I’d stared straight into the devil’s eyes, and Rossi was no devil.
Apparently he was related to one though, a brother, if what that devil said was true.
“He looked like you.” I pushed up, so I was sitting. I pulled the blankets close, glad that someone had changed me into a dry T-shirt. “He was slicker, sort of smoother and had short silver hair, but he was old like you.”
“Old?” Offended, he cocked one eyebrow.
“Very.”
The eyebrow fell again. “I know.”
“You can tell from the b-bite who did this right?”
“Yes.”
“He told me to give you a message.”
“Which is?”
“He wants you to give him theRauðskinnaor everyone dies, he burns Ordinary down, yada, yada, psycho-egomaniac, yada.”
“He did not yada.”
“He threatened. Death to all, make you scream, and all that jazz. There was probably some yada I didn’t catch. I didn’t have a chance to write down every word.”
Old Rossi was silent. I waited. When he still hadn’t spoken after a minute or so, I breached the quiet.
“He says he has Ben. Said he was your...toy. That he’s...broken.”
Flash of black in those eyes, glimmer of red. Still less evil than the vampire on the beach. “Did he?”
