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Andrew Roller Presents
GIRL PATROL
Chapter Thirty-Two
ÒFuck, you certainly screwed things up!Ó Esmelda shouted. ÒYou have
no aptitude for governance!Ó She stopped, the sight of the blood-spattered
wall registering with her. She looked at Fat Arnold, as Vlad and Jan came
in through the tower door behind her. ÒWhatÕs this?Ó she asked.
ÒI killed one of my ghouls,Ó Fat Arnold answered.
ÒOne of mine, or one of yours?Ó Esmelda snarled. Fat ArnoldÕs gloved
hand betrayed a tremble as it adjusted a cloth across his face.
ÒOne of yours,Ó he admitted.
ÒShit!Ó Esmelda cried. She advanced on the man. ÒYou owe me!Ó she
snapped. Fat Arnold retreated a step, then another.
ÒAlways, maÕam,Ó he replied.
ÒAh, home sweet home,Ó Vlad smiled. He stretched out his arms. A
ghoul closed the heavy tower door behind him and went slinking off into
another room. Esmelda stormed past the blood-stain on the wall,
muttering,
ÒNext time you choose to redecorate, get my permission first,
fatso!Ó
ÒYes, Queen Tristen,Ó Fat Arnold said. But she was gone by the time
heÕd gotten the words out, heading down into the cellar to drink untainted
blood.
ÒI hear youÕve had some trouble with the rabble,Ó Vlad said to Fat
Arnold.
ÒYes, master,Ó Fat Arnold said. ÒSo pleased to see you return.Ó
ÒIÕm sure you are,Ó Vlad said. He gave a wry smile. ÒBut you wonÕt
be if youÕve been in our blood.Ó
ÒOh no, master!Ó Fat Arnold said.
ÒWhatÕs with the weather,Ó Vlad asked.
ÒI dunno,Ó Fat Arnold lied.
ÒWell, Esmelda and I will have to straighten that out too, I suppose,Ó
Vlad said.
ÒOH, GOD!Ó rose suddenly from the stairs, distantly. Both men
started.
ÒMaster, I--Ó Fat Arnold began, but Vlad brushed past him, little Jan
hurrying alongside him, carrying her bloody knife. For the first time, Fat
Arnold noticed the girlÕs costume, the way her small breasts poked so
alluringly from it, the way her bottom and the place between her legs was
left bare by it. His eyes opened wide with shock and delight. Then
Esmelda cried out again, and a moment later she was at the top of the
stairs. In one hand she held a golden goblet. In the other, a bottle of wine.
Except that it wasnÕt, as one could tell by looking at what was dripping
from her fanged mouth. It was blood, dripping down from her lips and off
the end of her chin in her greed to consume it. Esmelda gave a sigh, like
someone who had just been made love to. The curse of vampirism was
stronger in her than perhaps any other vampire on earth, which was why
she was Queen, but it meant her connection to blood was more necessary
than that of any other creature. She sighed. She finished the cup. She
poured in more from the wine bottle. Her husband walked up to her and,
suddenly like an animal afraid of losing its prey, she drew the bottle tight
against her breasts.
ÒGet your own!Ó Esmelda snapped. She breathed another luscious
sigh. She drank from the cup again, draining it quickly.
ÒHow can you drink it?Ó Jan asked, her eyes wide. Vlad looked down
at the girl.
ÒThe vampire arts allow blood to be preserved, if it is handled by
specially trained ghouls.Ó
ÒIck!Ó Jan said. Her small fingers curled where they hung by her
sides. ÒI donÕt think IÕd want to drink blood if it wasnÕt from living flesh.Ó
Esmelda looked at the girl.
ÒYouÕre too young, anyway,Ó she said.
ÒIt is a refined taste,Ó Vlad told Jan. He patted her head. The girl
squirmed. ÒBlood from a corpse is, of course, revolting. It is like drinking
from oneÕs own. We cannot have it until itÕs been cured, and no vampire
can do it.Ó He spun about. ÒWhich is why I donÕt like seeing our palace
ghouls wasted!Ó he shouted to Fat Arnold. The man cringed. Esmelda
advanced on him. She held up the bottle of blood, which once had held
wine.
ÒThis was sitting out in the cellar,Ó she said. Her eyes narrowed.
ÒHave you been into my blood?Ó
ÒNo, maÕam!Ó Fat Arnold said.
ÒWell then why was it sitting out?!Ó Esmelda asked. Fat Arnold
looked perplexed for a moment, then pointed to the blood-stained on the
wall.
ÒThatÕs why. Because of him,Ó Fat Arnold said. Esmelda looked at
the remains of the ghoul.
ÒAh,Ó she said. ÒVery well.Ó
ÒI tried to explain, madam,Ó Fat Arnold began, seeing that the lie had
worked.
ÒNever mind,Ó Esmelda said. She waved her hand dismissively at
him. She lifted the golden goblet to her lips, but it was empty. Cursing,
she threw it across the room. As Vlad dodged it to avoid being hit by it,
Esmelda lifted the bottle in her hand to her lips. She drank from it,
lustily, like some parched victim of the desert.
30
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