Ambrose watched her leave. Her wings’ gilded edges shined gold sharpness in the dim light. She passed a cute waiter and her wings fluttered a couple of times.
Maybe I should follow her just to make sure that she keeps her end of the deal.
He took a long, slow sip of water.
I should warn them.
He set the glass on the table and reached in his pocket for his cellphone.
Only to come up empty.
Right. I left it at home.
The waiter strolled over to him, brimming over with professional chumminess. “Your fey woman was a hungry thing, wasn’t she? Did you want anything to eat?”
“Not hungry. Do you have a phone I can use?”
“A phone? Why? Aww, did she ditch you?”
“No! I just need to make a call. It’s important.”
“Right. Well, we do have a pseudo-pay phone over by the bathrooms.”
Ambrose stood. “Take me there.”
“Certainly. You sure you don’t want a piece of pie or—”
“Right this way.”
The waiter prattled on about pleasantries and such as they walked, but Ambrose tuned him out.
I need to call Elsie first.
But I don’t have her phone number! It’s all right. I’ll call information.
But what about Raven? I doubt that his number is listed. Wait. Does he even have a phone? What if he doesn’t have a phone? I don’t recall seeing one. Well, how does he stay in contact with the outside world? Surely there must be someone he likes to call. But he’s been a vampire for the past one hundred years, maybe more. Everyone that he wants to speak to is dead.
Well, how am I supposed to get my message through to him in time? I’ll have to run over there. What a pain.
“And here’s the phone. Beauty, huh?”
Ambrose lifted the receiver and punched in the number for information. What if I’m just wasting time? What if he’s already sent his minions out to attack? “Hello. Yes. I would like the phone number for Elsie Vansing in Havaton. Vansing. No, not Hellsing. Van. Sing. Van—What? No. Not Donald Vansing. Elsie. Not Elfreda. No. No. NO! ELSIE VANSING, YOU HUMAN DOLT!”
The waiter fled the scene.
Ambrose closed his eyes and pushed his temper down. “Yes. Yes. Yes. Havaton. No. Not Havatown. Havaton. What? How the heck do you get Havana out of Havaton?” He held the phone away from his face and throttled it and smacked it against his palm.
He put the phone back to his ear. “What? Oh, I must have dropped it. Sorry. Now. What? No. Shut up. Just shut up. Connect me to her. Yes. Elsie Vansing of Havaton. Yes. Thank you.”
He listened to the line ring and ring and ring. What if she doesn’t answer? What if she’s hurt? What if she’s dead? What if his vampires have already attacked? What if they’ve changed her?
All of his emotions rushed up to the surface.
He couldn’t speak.
It was her.