Sunday 1 November 2009

Roland the Red

Eunice laughed so loud that she doubled over and clutched her middle, but still she couldn't stop.

Roland, who was thoroughly unaccustomed to women bursting out laughing at the sight of his nearly naked body, flushed a dark brick red. This annoyed him further as he knew that a red face did not suit his tawny, red hair, and that usually he could control his blushing. But something about Eunice brought his defences down and made him feel like a naughty little cub of ten again.

Eunice finally ran out of steam and managed to pull herself up straight again, still puffing from her exertions.

'Oh I wish I had a camera' she started, blithely unaware of the stony reception she was receiving from the three male old kingdomers 'You three look so funny just standing here in the kitchen with a bag of blood!'

She almost started to laugh again, but managed to collect herself when she looked into Roland's face and saw that he was not at all amused. She didn't know him well enough to know that, while he was usually an affable and fairly laid back character for a werewolf, his Achilles heel was his vanity and his feeling of invincibility where the opposite sex was concerned. He was not one to laugh at himself and his wounded pride.

The Count glowering and Vlad looking fussily appalled did not concern her; they were vampires and vampires always were a bit weird as far as she was concerned.

'For god's sake, Vladimirescu, do you not have some clothes that I could borrow from you, or are you happy for me to go on standing here feeling humiliated!' barked Roland suddenly.

Vlad, who was never too good in the morning until after he had had his first warm bag of blood, jumped. His nerves were already on edge this morning, what with Antonescu dragging him out of his coffin at an unreasonably early hour of the morning after a poor night spent worrying about poor Mike Costello, Roland strolling casually into the kitchen barely clothed demanding coffee and then this beautiful woman turning up out of nowhere. Were they really safe in this house if all and sundry seemed to be able to turn up out of the blue, knowing exactly who was in the house?

'Yes of course, Roland, just follow me. Do you think that we are actually enjoying the vision of your half-naked body draped over the kitchen dresser?' he asked pointedly as he took Roland out of the kitchen door into the hall.

As the sound of their footsteps faded as they climbed the stairs, the Count turned to Eunice, who was by now regaining some of her composure, took her hand, bowed deeply over it and said suavely 'Enchanted to meet you; it is always such a pleasure to meet such a charming young lady. My name is Count Antonescu, lately arrived from Romania'

The smile that accompanied this gesture was no more pleasant thought Eunice than the glower that he had initially greeted her with.

She snatched back her hand a bit to hastily and drew herself up to her full height.

'Thank you kindly, Sir' she replied 'I am Miss Batchworth - Eunice Batchworth - and I am chief witch's assistant to Sue Fisher'.

'Sue Fisher' said the Count knowledgeably 'you fly high in witch's circles for one so young, my child'.

'Sue Fisher is my aunt, sir. Witching is in my blood, I come from a long line of high fliers'.

'Hmm, I believe that your aunt is assisting the werewolf in the matter of his missing clan member, how is this coming along? Do you have any information for us?

Eunice was appalled at the Counts blunt enquiry. 'As you should know, Sir, I am not at liberty to discuss our clients with you. Any information that I have is for Mr De Cazalrenoux's ears alone; if he wishes to discuss it with you that is his decision and his concern'.

The Count smiled at her answer, but did not seem pleased with it. He looked intently into Eunice's eyes and said 'But I am not interested in De Cazalrenoux's concerns, I need you tell me exactly what it is that Sue Fisher has entrusted to you and I need you to tell me now!'

Eunice, who was not in the least intimidated by this display, broke the Counts stare.

'Count Antonescu, I don't appreciate you asking me for information, when I have already informed you that it is confidential and for the ears of our client only! It is not the act of a gentleman. And please don't try and entrance me with your stare again! I am not a human and could stare down a vampire from the age of five!'

'You make a great mistake, young lady, crossing me. There are things afoot that you could not possibly know the significance of, things that are bigger than your stupid confidentiality clauses! You will tell me now what you know, or you will regret it!'

With this speech the Count leaned over, grabbed one of Eunice's wrists and started twisting it.

'Let me go' she screamed at him and kicked him heftily on the leg 'I will tell you nothing. I do not know you. I do not trust you. And our client's confidentiality will not be broken'.

The Count just smiled some more. Eunice was a tall girl, but she was willowy and slight. The Count was a very tall, very stocky, preternaturally strong vampire from an old blood line, and her kicking him had little or no effect.

'You will tell me' he said sweetly 'And you you will tell me now, before the werewolf and my so called leader return'.

'No!' said Eunice promptly, sinking her teeth into his arm in an attempt to make him let her go.

'I like your spirit, but unless you really want me to hurt you, you will tell me what I wish to know!'

At this the Count increased the pressure on Eunice's slender wrist, causing her to scream out loud. The Count grabbed her to him and roughly put his hand over her mouth to stop her cries.

It was too late however, as the sound of pounding footsteps were heard on the stairs, and both Roland and Vlad burst into the kitchen.

No comments:

Post a Comment