Sunday, 8 November 2009

Just a Little Misunderstanding Between Friends!

By the time that Roland and Vlad had burst into the kitchen, having first been delayed by a brief scuffle as to who was going to get through the door first which Roland's superior height helped him win, the Count was leaning back against the sink with a supercilious sneer on his face and Eunice was rubbing her sore wrist with a decidedly stormy look on her face.

Roland flung himself over to Eunice, grabbed her to him and asked in a hoarse voice

'Are you OK, what has that brute done to you? Where has he hurt you?'

Eunice, who didn't appreciate being mauled by Roland any more than she did being man-handled by the Count, dug the stiletto heel of her dainty black pump into his sock-clad right foot, and dug her elbow sharply into his middle.

'Ow, that hurt' squealed Roland, jumping back with an indignant look on his face. 'What the hell have I done, I'm only trying to help you'.

The Count just rolled his eyes and said dryly 'I don't think that the young lady is in a very appreciative mood this morning, De Cazalrenoux, and she is definitely not in a co-operative one!'

Roland looked for a moment as though he was going to go at the Count and throttle him, but then thought better of it and pulled himself back with a visible effort. His ears had sprouted tufts of tawny fur, his canines had dropped down in his jaw and his eyes had widened and narrowed into glassily cold green stare.

'What were you doing to Eunice?' he snarled 'You must have really hurt her for her to have cried out like that.'

'I did nothing, De Cazalrenoux' replied the Count contemptuously 'I was merely trying to elicit some information from her; these young people nowadays have no mettle and no staying power'.

Roland growled low in his throat and Vlad grabbed his arm to restrain him.

'Why are you pumping her for information, Antonescu?' spat Roland 'What can she possibly know that would be of interest to you vampires!'

'Well, she obviously came her to impart some information to you, so I just thought that I would speed up the process' said the Count reasonably.

'Anything that she has to say was for my ears only, Antonescu' was Roland's hot reply 'Why on earth do you think that she would tell you confidential client information?'

'Unfortunately for her, that was her response as well. So I had to grease the wheels a little to get her to talk. Regrettable but necessary!' replied the Count silkily.

Vlad, who by now was holding onto Roland's arm with both hands to restrain him, glared angrily at the Count.

'How dare you take advantage of a guest in this house! And how dare you assault a lady under my roof!' spluttered Vlad.

'You don't honestly believe that the werewolf would share any of that information with us do you?' asked Antonescu tauntingly 'And that's no lady, she's a witch and you know what they are like!'

'No I don't know what 'they' are like' answered Vlad repressively 'And I will reiterate that I do not like guests in this house being harassed and assaulted in any way!'

Eunice looked up from rubbing her wrist and said in a matter of fact tone 'His sire ran away with a renegade witch, that's why he doesn't like us. They tried to hush it all up, but his family have never gotten over it. The Count now thinks that all witches are cheap tarts on the make.'

Vlad's jaw dropped and the Count looked furious.

'But I never knew this? Why wasn't I told? I thought that old Igor was staked in the Resistance? His name is on the 'Wall of Distinction'. Is he still alive? Where did he run away to?' wailed Vlad.

'Oh yes he is still very much alive. He ran away to the Bahamas. He's a property developer now, I believe'.

'Shut your mouth witch!' growled the Count 'You don't know what you are talking about!'

'Oh I thought you wanted to get information out of me, Count?' sniped back Euncie sweetly 'Do you want me to tell them how he stripped the rings off the fingers of your aunts in their coffins before he left as well?'

Antonescu had stiffened against the sink and a dangerous rictus had overtaken his face.

'Or how he sold your younger sister onto the slave markets in Tangiers to get enough money for the plane fares?' she continued 'Or that the name of this dangerous siren is Doris, and that she is 40 pounds overweight and used to run a whelk stall in Southend?'

The Count snarled and leapt at Eunice, going for her throat this time....

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