"But—But—" She looked around as they entered the quiet warehouse. Everyone had teleported away. The laser lights flashed, highlighting the empty dance floor, the stage, the bar. How could she leave? She loved this place. It was everything to her.
Phil flung her onto his shoulder and ran for the entrance. His desperation penetrated the cold fog that had marred her thinking. Someone wanted to kill her. Someone wanted to kill her so badly they hadn't given a second thought to killing a hundred or more innocent bystanders.
Once again she was being hunted.
Phil sprinted down the alley, then turned onto the street. She clutched at his shirt. She needed to teleport them farther away.
Boom!
The explosion deafened her ears. She screamed. Bricks flew into the air and flames shot toward her face.
She flinched from the heat, and their bodies were thrown. She held onto Phil as the world went black.
CHAPTER 13
"Oof." Vanda landed on the floor of her apartment with Phil sprawled beside her.
He rose to his knees. "Are you all right?"
"Yes." Maybe not. Her face felt terribly hot. But at least they hadn't been burned to a crisp.
"There you are! Thank God!" Pamela rushed toward them and helped Vanda to her feet.
"We were afraid you hadn't made it." Cora Lee's eyes widened. "Land sakes."
Vanda touched a burning hot cheek. "Is it that bad?"
"No, no," Pamela and Cora Lee said quickly, then exchanged looks.
Great. Vanda ran a hand through her hair and felt the singed ends. For once, she was glad she couldn't see herself in a mirror. But it was embarrassing for Phil to see her this way. Luckily, he wasn't looking at her. He'd hurried straight to the big plate-glass window, where he was opening the aluminum shutters.
Vanda joined him there and saw the smoke billowing up from the club two blocks away. Her club. Sirens sounded in the distance. A fire truck raced down the street below them, its lights flashing and horn blaring.
Her club was gone. All her dreams of an independent life gone up in smoke.
"Are you in much pain?" Phil asked softly.
Her throat felt tight, tense. "Yes."
"Your skin will heal during your death-sleep."
Her vision blurred with tears. "But not my heart."
He touched her shoulder. "You shouldn't stand here by the window."
"I have to see." She could at least be close to her club as it burned down to nothing. Along with her dreams.
"Vanda, you can't afford to be seen." He pulled her away from the window. "And we shouldn't stay here long. If they realize you weren't killed in the explosion, they'll come here looking for you. But for now, they probably assume that you're dead."
"Who are they?" She had one last glimpse of the column of smoke before Phil closed the shutters.
"I'm betting on Corky." Cora Lee removed a big bottle of warmed-up Chocolood from the microwave.
"I think it's Max the Mega Member." Pamela set out three cups and saucers on the kitchen counter. "But it could be any of a hundred people you've managed to piss off over the years."
"I haven't pissed off hundreds." Vanda thought back to make sure that was true.
"I'll explain," Phil began. "We got some information from the prisoner Angus caught last night."
"Oh, right." Cora Lee poured Chocolood into the three cups, then handed one to Vanda. "Darcy told us about that. She and Austin took him to Romatech."
Vanda settled on the couch and took a sip of the hot blood and chocolate mixture. Her friends sat across from her in two easy chairs.
Phil paced about the room. "The prisoner told us that Casimir has a hit list—Vamps who took part in what the Malcontents call the Massacre at DVN. He wants to avenge the death of his friend Jedrek Janow."
Vanda winced. Her friends Ian and Toni had killed Jedrek Janow. She set her cup and saucer down on the coffee table. "Are Ian and Toni on the list?"
"They're at the top," Phil admitted. "But as long as they remain hidden on their honeymoon, they should be safe."
Cora Lee sipped her Chocolood. "Who else is on the hit list?"
"Jack, Zoltan, Dougal, Phineas." Phil looked at Vanda. "You."
She gulped. "Casimir wants me dead? Why? I didn't hurt anyone at DVN. I never even went inside."
"That's true," Pamela insisted. "Vanda was only there for moral support."