"Romatech?"
"All the Romatechs are in danger." Phil retrieved a cell phone from his pocket. "Howard has a cabin in the Adirondacks. I've been there a few times for…hunting trips. I'll call, and the answering machine will pick up. Then you can focus on Howard's recorded message and teleport us there. Okay?"
"No."
Phil paused in the middle of punching the number. "What?"
Vanda stood. "I'm not going with you."
His eyes narrowed. "I'm not giving you any choice."
She lifted her chin. "I'm the one doing the teleporting. I can go wherever I please. On my own."
He stepped toward her. "Where are you going?"
She shrugged. "I…know the Carpathian Mountains really well."
"You plan to hide in caves? Sounds comfy."
"Once I'm in my death-sleep, a dirt floor isn't any different than a soft mattress."
He moved closer. "And who will guard you during the day?"
"No one." She tightened the whip around her waist. "I survived like that before. I can do it again."
His jaw shifted as he ground his teeth. "You were alone before. You are not alone now."
"I was alone because Karl died protecting me. I'm not going to let that happen to you."
"It won't happen. I'm a hell of a lot tougher than Karl."
"You never even knew him—"
"I know enough! And I will not allow you to go through this alone."
"You don't have a choice." She searched her psychic memory for a cave in the Carpathians.
He grabbed her by the shoulders. "Don't do it. It could be daylight there."
Damn. He might be right. Teleporting to the east was a very risky business. "It won't be daylight in the cave."
"How long has it been since you were there? Over fifty years? The cave could have changed. You could end up teleporting into solid rock."
She swallowed hard.
"You're teleporting to the cabin and taking me with you." He punched in the number. "End of discussion."
She glared at him. "Are you always so overbearing?"
"When it comes to your safety, yes." He held her tight and lifted the phone to her ear. "Do it."
She concentrated on the recorded message, and in a few seconds they materialized in a dark room. Phil released her then, and pocketed his cell phone. She glimpsed brown log walls and the gray stones of a huge fireplace. Moonlight filtered through windows and glinted off…eyeballs.
She gasped, then spun around, looking for Phil. He was moving through the kitchen to the back door. "Phil?"
"Right here." He flipped on the lights.
She turned back to the eyeballs. The head of a deer was mounted on the wall. A giant moose head hung over the fireplace. And some sort of wild pig with tusks hung over the bookcase. "There are dead animals on the walls."
"This is a hunting cabin."
She shuddered. "They're looking at me." And saying, you're next. "I'm surprised you don't have a bearskin rug on the floor."
He winced. "Howard wouldn't go for that. And they're not looking at you. Those eyeballs are glass." He opened the fridge and peered inside.
"I guess you and Howard killed them?"
"Yeah." He set a bottle of beer on the counter and unscrewed the top. "We're…hunters."
She wrapped her arms around herself. She'd been a hunter once, too. She'd started off using her teleportation skills to hunt for her father and brothers in the prison camps. But then she'd seen the hideous cruelty, and something had snapped. Instead of hunting for those she loved, she hunted for those she hated. Prison guards, Nazis. A vampire had to feed every night, so why not do it and rid the world of monsters at the same time?
But Jedrek Janow had discovered her scheme, and she had become the hunted one.
She perched on the arm of a brown leather couch. "I'm a little sensitive about being hunted."
"You're safe here." Phil took a drink. "Only Howard, Connor, and I know about this place."
"That's good." She looked around.
On the back of the couch lay a hand-woven blanket with a Native American design. The couch faced the fireplace, with a coffee table scarred and imprinted with drink rings. An old recliner and floor lamp rested close to the bookcase.
A staircase led up to a loft. She could see several beds up there, all covered with colorful quilts.
Phil was still in the kitchen, sipping his beer. The heat from the explosion must have made him thirsty. Close by, a wooden dinette table and chairs sat on a braided rug.