But she'd done the same things a Malcontent did. Good Lord, he would hate her, too.
Another pull of sleepiness swept through her. She trudged toward the blanket.
Then she heard Brynley's voice overhead, loud with anger. Phil responded, much more quietly. It was a private conversation, none of her business.
But they were talking about her. Damn. She moved underneath the trapdoor, then levitated close to the ground floor.
"You can't marry her," Brynley said with an urgent tone. "Dad will never accept her."
"I don't give a damn what he thinks," Phil replied. "He has a narrow mind, and a narrow vision of the world."
"He's got a lot of power."
"And what does he use it for?" Phil demanded. "Raising cattle and sheep. Buying more land. Raising more cattle. More sheep. And the highlight of his existence is going out once a month to kill a defenseless animal."
"It's what we do. You enjoy hunting, too."
"It's not enough!" Phil shouted. "There's a whole world out there."
"A world of vampires?" Brynley sneered. "No thanks."
A wave of sleepiness hit Vanda, and she dropped a few feet. She shook it off and levitated once more to the trapdoor.
Phil was explaining how important it was for the Vamps to defeat the Malcontents. "This is huge, Bryn. If the Malcontents win, they could take over the entire world."
"Fine," Brynley snapped. "Help your good Vamps win. But don't marry one of them! This is crazy, Phil. You're a freaking prince, for God's sake."
Prince? Vanda shook her head. She couldn't have heard that right.
"And what about Diana?" Brynley continued. "You were betrothed to her years ago."
Vanda gasped. Her concentration broke and she tumbled to the floor. "Ouch." She winced as she stood up. Her ankle had twisted.
She limped to the blanket. At least the stupid ankle would heal during her death-sleep. She stretched out on the blanket. Prince? Prince Philip? Engaged to Diana? This was Wyoming, not bloody Britain. This couldn't be right.
Death-sleep tugged at her again, stronger and more pervasive. She yawned and closed her eyes. Images flitted through her mind. Phil pinning down Max the Mega Member. Phil leaping off the balcony and landing neatly. Phil fighting the Malcontents and surviving. Moving so fast.
Too fast. She gave up the struggle and succumbed to death-sleep.
Vanda awoke with a jolt. She stared into the darkness, unsure for a few seconds where she was. Oh, right. Phil's cabin in Wyoming. She fumbled beside her and found her whip.
A heavy feeling of dread swept over her, so heavy it took some effort to sit up. The war had started. Robby was captured. Marta had betrayed her once again. Dougal was handicapped for life. And Phil's sister hated her.
She rose to her feet. The ankle had healed. She tied the whip around her waist. It was quiet upstairs. Quiet outside. She levitated to the trapdoor and pushed. It creaked open a few inches.
"Oh, you're up." Phil pulled the door open the rest of the way and smiled at her. "I don't suppose you need the ladder?"
"No." She levitated through the opening in the floor.
He took her hand and pulled her toward him. Her feet landed on the floor, and her arms wrapped around his chest.
"You look like a cowboy." She smoothed a hand over his plaid western shirt.
"Brynley went into town today and bought us some clothes." He kissed her. "Do you want to look like a cowgirl?"
She snorted. "How are you? Are the cuts still hurting you?"
"I'm fine. I got some sleep during the day, while Brynley was here."
Vanda looked around, but the cabin was empty. "Where is she now?"
"She's...taking a hike outside."
"In the dark?"
"It's a full moon. Do you need some breakfast?" He led her toward the ice chest. "Brynley brought us some more ice."
"That's good." Vanda grabbed a bottle of blood from the ice chest. She thought about asking Phil if he was really engaged to some lady named Diana, but she didn't want to admit that she'd been eavesdropping.
She took a long drink. "So what's the latest news?"
He leaned against the kitchen counter, frowning. "They weren't able to finish the tracking device before sunset. So we have no idea where Robby's being held prisoner."
"Oh, God. Poor Robby." She set the bottle down on the counter. She didn't feel like drinking when Robby was probably being tortured. "What will they do to him?"
"Make him go hungry, for starters. I've heard it's very painful."
"It is."
Phil tilted his head, studying her. "Maggie told me you used to go without. You made yourself suffer. Why?"
"I-I don't want to talk about it." Vanda walked across the room. "Is there a bathroom around here?"
"There's an outhouse behind the stable."
She scoffed. "You have a stable but not a bathroom?"
He shrugged. "The stable is empty. And I haven't needed a bathroom. I haven't been here in over four years."
"Why not?"
He gave her a wry look. "I don't want to talk about it."
"Well, aren't we a secretive pair?"
"Yeah, we are. I think it's time we had a long talk." He motioned to the couch just as his cell phone rang. "Hello?...Yeah, Howard. I'm sure Angus is beside himself. Any progress with the tracking device?"
While Phil talked, Vanda paced about. She really needed to go. Mortals didn't usually understand that, but a vampire only needed the red blood cells to survive. The plasma part of blood became waste, along with any added ingredients like the whiskey in Blissky.
She could find the outhouse on her own. She stepped outside onto a wide front porch. A cool breeze swept past her, making an old wooden rocker sway with a creak.
A small pasture spread out in front of the cabin. The full moon shone down, gilding the grass with a touch of silver. In the distance, a forest of tall trees reached to the clear, starry sky. The air was crisp and cool.
She rounded the cabin and saw the stable. It was almost as big as the cabin. She strode past it and found the outhouse. Just like the old days in Poland. She took a deep breath and did her business as quickly as possible. A roll of toilet paper sat on what looked like the end of an old broom handle.
She left the outhouse and strode past the stable, adjusting the whip around her waist. An eerie howl echoed around her. She gulped. Okay. So there might be a wolf or coyote in the woods. That was normal for Wyoming, right? She hurried around to the front of the cabin.
Was that something moving out of the woods? She inched toward the front porch steps.
Another movement captured her attention. And another. Animals. Perhaps a dozen. They moved from the dark shade of the trees and into the moonlit pasture. She stiffened.
Wolves.
The moonlight gleamed off their silver gray coats. They slowly stalked toward her. Their eyes glinted. Their teeth were bared. A low growl rumbled across the pasture, freezing her with fear.
Light spilled suddenly onto the porch. Phil had opened the door.
"Vanda, come inside," he said quietly.
She willed her feet to move but they remained frozen to the ground. The nightmare was back. She was hunted once more. And the wolves had been sent to kill her.
They inched closer. Her heart stilled. This was it. They would kill her.
"Shit." Phil strode down the porch steps and into the pasture. "Go inside, Vanda."
She jolted out of the fear that had paralyzed her. Oh God, no! Phil would try to protect her just like Karl had. The wolves would kill him.
She ran to him and grasped his arm. "Come with me. Hurry."
He peeled her hand off. "I'll handle this. Trust me. Now go inside." He pushed her gently toward the stairs.
She hurried up the steps. The wolves howled. With a shudder, she turned to watch.
Phil had pulled off his shirt. All the cuts on his torso had healed. How had he managed that? His body began to shimmer.
She gasped. What was he doing?
The wolves charged.
Phil spread his arms wide, threw his head back, and howled.
Vanda stumbled back, knocking against the cabin wall. Light from the open door illuminated Phil. Fur sprouted across his back and shoulders, then spread down his arms. His hands turned into paws with long sharp claws. His head crackled, the jaw elongating into a long snout.
The wolves stopped in their tracks and hunched down to the ground. They were afraid, Vanda realized. But not as terrified as she was.