"Walls?" Pamela asked.
Phil winced. "I was throwing the snake parts as fast as I could cut them up."
"Lord have mercy," Cora Lee whispered.
Vanda tried to shut out the terrifying images that flitted through her mind, but she couldn't.
"I was really...upset," Phil admitted with a frown, "so I took the snake's head and went in search of Max."
Vanda swallowed hard. "Did you find him?"
"He was in his apartment in his death-sleep." Phil stared into space, scowling.
Cora Lee leaned forward, her eyes wide. "What did you do to him?"
Phil took a deep breath. "I left the snake head on the pillow next to Max and turned his head so it would be the first thing he would see when he woke up. Then I wrote a note that told him if he ever came near Vanda again, I would kill him."
Cora Lee slumped with a sigh. "That's all?"
"I pinned the note to his thigh...with a knife."
Cora Lee brightened up. "Now that's more like it."
"Indeed." Pamela sipped from her teacup. "I say, old boy, good form."
Phil snorted. "I'm so glad you approve. Then I dropped by Roman's townhouse to shower and change clothes, and I made my report. Roman should be hearing about it soon, and he can make a decision on how to handle Max."
"They should lynch him," Cora Lee said, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "We should have a hanging like the good old days."
"Quite." Pamela sipped from her cup. "Now that was entertainment."
Vanda shook her head and finished her mug of blood before it turned cold. Cold-blooded like a snake. She shuddered.
"I had the door fixed, and I left three new keys on the counter." Phil motioned toward the kitchen. "I kept a key for myself so I wouldn't have to bust your door down again."
"Of course." Pamela bowed her head. "We're extremely grateful for your bravery and chivalry."
"That's for sure," Cora Lee added. "Why, if he hadn't come when he did, that snake would have crushed our poor Vanda to smithereens. Imagine waking up to find every bone in your body broken, not to mention all that nasty internal damage. And what if that snake had tried to eat her?"
"Enough!" Vanda made a face at her. "I don't want to hear about it."
Cora Lee huffed. "I'm just saying you would probably be dying in agonizing pain right this minute if Phil hadn't come to your rescue."
Vanda gritted her teeth. "I am aware of that. I can't move any part of my body without feeling some soreness."
Pamela tsked. "You poor dear. Hopefully, another round of death-sleep will have you back to feeling tip-top."
Cora Lee nodded. "And you'd better take it easy tonight. Don't worry about the club. Pamela and I can handle it."
"I'm perfectly capable of working," Vanda protested. If she did nothing all night, she'd keep imagining that horrible snake coiling around her while she lay helpless in her death-sleep.
Cora Lee was right. If Phil hadn't saved her, that snake could have remained wrapped around her all night, preventing her body from healing itself. She could have woken to find every bone in her body crushed. Or worse.
Her stomach roiled, and she quickly shoved the grisly images aside. She focused on her hands in her lap and took deep breaths. Father Andrew had taught her this exercise to help calm her anger. Hopefully, it also worked to calm horror.
"What are we going to do with the snake?" Cora Lee asked.
"I'll bag it up in a big garbage sack," Phil replied. "And I'll ask one of the Vamp guys to teleport it out. I would have taken it myself, but I didn't want to look like I was hauling a dead body out of the building. If security asked to see what was inside, it would be hard to explain."
"Yes, much better to simply teleport it away." Pamela returned her empty teacup to the kitchen.
A cell phone rang, jerking Vanda out of her deep breathing exercise.
Phil dug his phone out of his pants' pocket. "Hello...Yes, she seems to be all right." He glanced at Vanda and whispered, "It's Connor."
With her superior hearing, Vanda could make out most of what Connor was saying. Jack and Phineas had gone to Max's apartment to arrest him, but the ex-dancer was nowhere to be found. She wasn't surprised. After all, Max had woken with a note stabbed to his thigh with a knife. Even Max, with his minimum brain, could figure out this was a clue that he was in big trouble.
Connor had issued a bulletin to all the minor coven masters under Roman's jurisdiction to be on the lookout for Max. He was now a fugitive from Vamp justice.
"I'll ask her." Phil hung up and turned toward Vanda. "Roman wants to know since you're the victim, what kind of action will satisfy you once Max is captured?"
"Leave him staked outside so he'll fry to a crisp when the sun rises," Cora Lee suggested as she retrieved the dropped glass and teacup from Vanda's bedroom to take them to the kitchen.
"Off with his head," Pamela said as she washed the dishes. "Preferably with a dull axe."
"Banishment will be enough," Vanda said quietly.
"Are you kidding?" Cora Lee advanced toward the couch with an incredulous look. "That bastard tried to kill you. Aren't you angry?"
"Indeed," Pamela called over the sound of running water. "Where is your infamous anger now?"
"Banishment will get rid of him," Vanda mumbled. Max wouldn't be able to show his face or get employment anywhere in the eastern United States that fell under Roman's rule. He would have no choice but to move far away.
Phil watched her curiously. "Are you sure?"
She shook her head. "I don't want any more deaths on my conscience."
His eyes widened. "What deaths?"
She winced inwardly. Now she'd said too much. "I don't want to talk about it." She started to get up to take her empty mug to the kitchen, but a sharp pain creased her ribs. "Ouch."
"Stay put." Phil grabbed the mug from her hand and passed it to Cora Lee.
Vanda pressed a hand against her ribcage. That damned snake had done more damage than her body could heal in one day.
Phil watched her, frowning. "I want the three of you to move back into Roman's townhouse."
She glared at him. "No way."
"It's not safe for you to remain here, not as long as Max is on the loose and blaming you for all his problems," he argued. "I can't watch you here and do my job at the townhouse at the same time."
"He has a point." Pamela dried her hands on her favorite tea towel from London.
"Better safe than sorry," Cora Lee added.
Vanda groaned.
Phil patted her leg. "It's for the best. If you ladies will pack your bags, I'll drive you over to the townhouse."
"Of course." Pamela strode toward her bedroom, followed by her roommate.
"Cora Lee, could you pack a bag for Vanda?" Phil asked as he rested a hand on Vanda's shoulder to prevent her from getting up.
"Sure." Cora Lee slanted a wry smile at Vanda. "Gee, I wonder what I should pack for you? Maybe a black catsuit? And the purple catsuit? And what else?" She tapped her chin, thinking. "Oh, right! The other black catsuit."
"Very funny," Vanda muttered.
"Such a dreadful lack of variety," Pamela said as she marched into her bedroom.
"That's for sure." Cora Lee followed her inside.
The door shut, and Vanda found herself alone with Phil.
"They're just envious," he whispered.
"Of what?"
"That you look so incredibly good in a catsuit. Not many women would."
She felt a blush warming her cheeks.
"That's better." He touched her face. "You were looking so deathly pale before."
For good reason. She'd come too close to dying a horrid death. "I-I want to thank you for saving my life. Again." Her blush deepened, and she clenched her hands in her lap. "It must have been awful for you. I feel so...stupid that I was just lying there helpless while you had to do battle with that disgusting - "
"It's all right. I'd fight any sort of creature to protect you." He rested his hand on top of hers. "You're worth it."
Tears sprang to her eyes without warning. She pulled her hands away from his. "Don't say that." She covered her eyes with a trembling hand. Worth it? Would he say that if he knew the truth about her?