Would You Like Ice On That?

'Hold still, Roland, or I will never get this bandage on!' chided Eunice frostily as she attempted to roll a bandage over Roland's badly bitten arm 'You could really do with some stitches you know, why don't you let us take you to A&E'.

Vlad, who was trying to restrain Antonescu in the corner, just gulped as he saw Roland's flat, angry eyes as he tried to jerk his arm away from Eunice's dainty, but firm, grip. This morning was definitely not going as planned! And they needed to rescue poor, old Mike!

'If it wasn't for you, Miss Batchworth, the Count wouldn't have about two inches of my flesh dangling from his fangs!' exploded Roland.

'Yes, I can see what you mean' replied Eunice turning to survey the Count's bloodied face 'Can't be very nice for you to have to look at. Mr Vladimirescu, could you please get the Count to wipe his face clean?'

Vlad who was losing his battle to contain Antonescu was not impressed by this suggestion.

'But...but... How on earth am I meant to do that' he spluttered at Eunice's back, as she had already returned to her task of binding Roland's arm.

'It was supposed to be your throat, witch' growled the Count menacingly.

'Oh I have just about had enough of you three' ground out Eunice sharply whirling back round, and managing to painfully knock Roland's still gaping wound in the process whilst still retaining her grip.

'Let's get a few things straight! I have information that I need to impart to Mr de Cazalrenoux, I will not tell anyone else. If he wishes to share that information with you two, that is his concern! Also, I do not need any protection from a vampire, however big and scary that vampire thinks he is! The only reason that you got bitten, Roland, is that you got in the way of my freezing spell. I was in no danger from the Count!'

Roland flushed once more.

'It is in my nature and breeding to protect the fairer sex, Miss Batchworth, and you could have been killed!' retorted Roland.

'Nonsense! You were just on some macho trip to make yourself look and feel good! That's why I didn't unfreeze you both for a couple of minutes, to give you both time to cool down! You should both be thoroughly ashamed of yourselves. As for you, Mr Vladimirescu, if you really want to be the vampire leader, you really need to start growing a back bone!'

The three male Old Kingdomers subsided, quashed by this outburst. Roland grimly remembering those minutes, that seemed to stretch for eternity, where he had been frozen in mid-air with Antonescu's fangs dug into his arm. He was almost certain that Eunice has timed the spell to the second so that Antonescu would bite him, and she had just confirmed that she deliberately dragged the spell on longer than she needed to!

Tying the last knot on the bandage firmly, she picked up the bowl of bloodied ice that she had used (with unnecessary vigour and enthusiasm in Roland's opinion) to stop the bleeding and tipped it down the sink.

'And I don't want to catch either of you sucking the ice cubes or licking the sink' she stated firmly, looking both vampires squarely in the eye 'From now on, we will have a bit of decorum! Roland, if you want that information, please follow me now into the drawing room.'

With that she swept out of the room, still looking band-box neat without a hair out of place.

Roland, patted the bandage on his arm gingerly and grimaced. He was not worried about infection from the vampire's fangs, his werewolf heritage shielded him from that and promoted fast healing, but the wound was throbbing painfully and you couldn't have said that Eunice's ministrations had been tender! He eased himself up from the kitchen table and ambled out of the door, shooting the Count a malevolent look as he went, painfully aware that the usually suave and elegant Roland de Cazalrenoux was clad in a pair of humans black jeans that were too big in the waist and too short in the leg, an old white UCL sweatshirt that was now ripped down one arm and splattered with blood, and that he still had tufts of tawny wolf fur sprouting from his ears!

'The witch will pay!' grumbled the Count low in his throat, after Roland had left the room.

'No Antonescu, YOU will leave it!' cried Vlad decisively pushing the Count hard back into the corner 'I, too have had more than enough! You still have questions to answer yourself! Why did you try to get information out of Miss Batchworth so aggressively, AND you still have not cleared your name with regards me being warned not to trust you!

The Count looked abashed; Vladimirescu squaring up to him was like a sparrow scaling the Rock of Gibraltar, but he had a new note of command in his voice, and Antonescu had been trained to obey.