Work-in-progress on the sequel to The Sorcerer's Lackey

                Lucy lay down on her bed. A single candle lit the room. She contemplated blowing it out but feared the dark. She no longer knew what to do. She was dead tired. Why couldn’t she sleep?

                Then she heard a squeaking noise. She looked up.

With considerable difficulty, a bat emerged out of a small hole in the ceiling and, as she watched it, the creature gyrated, twirled, flipped, and flopped its way to the floor. Even before Lucy could take in the unexpected arrival, the nocturnal visitor transformed itself into a human dressed in evening attire, as if for the theatre, complete with a flowing red-lined cloak.

The man gazed down on her. “Ahz, zher youz arez, luciouz Luciz.”

A bat arriving in her room was one thing. A bat arriving in her room and turning into a man was another completely different thing. Lucy knew she should scream for help. But she was paralysed. She thought her reaction odd. And thought it odder she wasn’t screaming at the sight before her. She just lay there watching it. She managed a drawn smile. She’d been taught always to be polite.

“Youz pleazed to seez mez, I seez.”

The bat-man slowly approached her and sat down on the bed.

“Archz, I seez the problemz.” He flicked his fingers. “Lucz, rememberez.”

It was as if scales fell from her eyes. She remembered her previous encounters with…with. She wasn’t too sure.

“It’s you!”

“It’s mez. Muwhahahahaha!” The vampire gave her a wicked smile. “Now shalz we rezume, I’m hungrez?”

He bent down towards her neck. Lucy felt powerless to do anything. She lay there as he sank his fangs into her and started feeding, slurping noisily as he did so. She closed her eyes. Her mind whirled and she faded in and out of consciousness.

Eventually, he stopped and got up.

“Dazt wazt gutz.”

Lucy opened her eyes and stared up at the ceiling noting things there she’d not seen before. She turned her head to see the man—no, not a man a nostefaru who had been feasting on her, draining her of all her blood. To the very last drop—was getting ready to leave.

“Hey, what about me?”

“Yous shouldz bez dzead.”

“But I feel alive.”

“Datz notz pozzible.”

“Hey, don’t tell me what’s possible or not possible.”

She rose to her feet and padded over to him. She grabbed hold of his evening jacket. He jerked. She hadn’t realised she had that much strength.

“You’re not leaving without me.”

“Butz…butz…Iz draindz zou.”

She smiled. “Yes, and now I’m yours.” She rubbed up against him provocatively.

“Butz…butz…thisb idzst mozdezst irregulaz.”

“Whether regular or not, I’m coming with you.” She gave him another tug just to emphasise her determination.

“You kandz.”

Lucy stamped her pretty foot. “I can and I will. I know everything about you. What if I was to let slip your secret resting place and the hidden treasures?”

“Youz wouldnz!”

“I will unless I go with you.”

The undead gave her the most piteous look imaginable, one that dwarfed any picture of a wide-eyed, sweet little kitten looking up and on the point of saying ‘meow’.

“Ohz verzy welz. Butz helz bez furiouz.”

“Let him.”

The vampire opened the door and stepped out into the corridor. Lucy, still clutching hold, followed.