said a cold, curt voice, jolting me awake, “have got to talk.” “Bzuh?” My eyes were blurry with sleep, and my neck was killing me. I seemed to be lying full length and facedown on the carpet. I managed to lift my head a few inches and saw a row of tan blurs laid out inches from my nose. I blinked them into focus. Scrabble tiles. Y, O, U, A, R, E, A, N, I, D, I, O, and T. An instant migraine lit up my skull. Wincing, I reached for the tiles, intending to rearrange them into a logical order—and hesitated. Either they could go in alphabetical order, or numerical sequence, but not both at the same time.... “Argh!” I clutched at my head. Any vampire couldn’t help but be paralyzed with indecision over the impossible choice. This was far worse than mere paper clips. Glaring at the unholy things, I came to the obvious conclusion. “VAN HELSING, I AM GOING TO MURDER YOU.” My hands hovered helplessly over the tiles. “You jerk, we had a deal!” “Not with me,” someone said from somewhere above me.
