I debated with myself, then told him about the incident with Sylvia. “She ripped me in half. Do I need to be worried? You know that expression, if looks could kill? Every time Sylvia looks at me, my blood gets a bit colder.”
In a low, furious undertone, he said, “If she touches so much as a hair on your head…” The menace seemed even deeper when he didn’t finish the sentence. I began to think I might not be in as much danger as the glamorous vampire.
Before I could even tell him about the photograph, he said, “I’m coming over.”