Runaway Vampire

Runaway Vampire by Lynsay Sands Page A

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Authors: Lynsay Sands
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taking the dinette and couch with it. Once it was all the way out, there was a good three or four foot span of open space between the furnishings and the kitchen counter along the opposite wall. Mary then turned topeer into the bedroom as she pressed the button for the second slide-out and watched as the wall at the head of the bed began to move out, taking the bed with it. When it stopped there was room enough to walk around the end of the bed, open the drawers, and whatnot. The cramped RV was now a more spacious little house on wheels.
    Relaxing a little, Mary turned on the water heater, and flipped on some lights, then moved to the coffee machine to make herself a cup. She set out a Keurig cup and a mug for Dante as well, but didn’t make it. She doubted he’d appreciate cold coffee. He might even prefer a cold drink.
    After setting her coffee on the table, Mary retrieved her sandwich from the front dashboard where it still sat. She had just picked up the plate, and had started to turn back toward the table when she spotted her phone. Dante had obviously put it back in its holder before taking Bailey out, she thought and snatched that up as well. She carried both items to the table and slid onto one of the dinette’s booth seats to eat.
    Even after having sat out for half an hour or so, the sandwich was as good as it had first looked and Mary found herself gobbling it down. It seemed like no time before she finished the first half, and that’s about the time that she began to realize how much she’d needed to eat. It was almost nine now, which meant it had been almost nine hours since lunch. Her brain had obviously needed the nutrients, because it was suddenly thinking more clearly than it had since she’d run over Dante. The day’s events ran through her head like a film and shebegan to get more and more uncomfortable as it went. She had a complete stranger traveling with her, one who was slightly delusional and possibly dangerous.
    Where was he going to sleep tonight?
    And how well was she going to sleep with him in the RV with her?
    Mary sat back at the table with a frown, and then her gaze dropped to the phone and she recalled the calls he’d made. Three of them in all, she thought. Picking up the phone, she opened it to the recent calls page and peered at the number he’d called.
    The area code was 416. It had seemed familiar when he’d first spoken it to her, but now it suddenly clicked in. Toronto, she thought. Her daughter lived there and had that area code. FBI based in Canada? Mary’s mouth tightened and she tapped the number, making the phone redial it.

Six
    M ary pressed the phone to her ear and listened to it ring, then stilled when a ring was prematurely silenced and a male voice snapped, “Speak Dante.”
    Biting her lip, she glanced toward the open window and then cleared her throat and asked, “Who am I speaking to?”
    When silence came to her through the phone, she recalled what Dante had said earlier and asked, “Is this Lucian?”
    â€œYes,” he said finally, his voice wary but edged with concern. He asked sharply, “Did Dante’s kidnappers recapture him?”
    Mary’s eyes widened slightly. When she’d realized it was a Toronto area code, she’d thought for sure everything Dante had said was lies or delusions, but it seemed that part, at least, was true.
    â€œHello?” the man snapped after a moment.
    Realizing she hadn’t answered him, Mary cleared her throat and said, “No.”
    â€œHe’s hurt then?” the man asked next, his voice sharp.
    Mary hesitated, and then sighed and said, “I think so.”
    â€œYou think so? What the hell do you mean you think—?”
    â€œI ran over him with my RV,” Mary rushed out, interrupting his caustic words. “And I think he may have taken some damage to his head.”
    Silence came down the line at her in response and Mary

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