The Final Bride of Dracula

Chapter Fifteen

Since I love you all so much and decided to remove my head from my ass, here is the next chapter. Apologies for its lateness.

Marscha, draped in her new cloak, walked to Alandra's room and knocked. It's been two days since she had ushered her out of the room. Her hand had barely touched the door when it was swiftly pulled open.
Louis stood on the other side much to her confusion. She was about to speak when his hand clamped quickly over her mouth and she was pulled into the room.

The door was shut quietly and Louis sighed.
His voice was barely audible when he spoke. "She's grown ill, and I don't know what to do. She has been vomiting and at a steady fever."

Marscha frowned and smacked him on the back of his head.
"You dunderhead!" She stage whispered. "You wait until now to tell me? Does Vladimir know?"

"Of course not. Why would I let that -"

"Oh hush. Fetch me a pail of water and a rag." She removed her cloak, putting it on Lady Alandra's vanity.

Marscha began to study the woman who lay in the bed. Her skin was covered in a sheen of sweat, and her lips were cracked. She furrowed he brow as she sat next to the woman.
She brought an icy had to her forehead.
"Leave you alone for two days, look what you go and do to yourself." She muttered clucking her tongue. As she leaned down to pulled the woman's curls from around her face her braid fell on Alandra's arm. The sick woman began to stir.
Her eyes began to flutter open and Marscha smiled.
"Hello my lady. Glad you could join us."
Alandra cracked a weak smile.
"Its-" she coughed "- my pleasure."

A look of concern crossed the blond vampire's face.
"Why'd you go and get yourself sick my lady?"

"I've told you to call me Alandra, Marscha."

A frown sat on the small woman's lips. " Alandra-"

"I'm fine some rest and-" she fell into another coughing fit just as Louis walked into the room with the pail of water and the rags.
Marscha darted from the bed and quickly dampened a rag. Wringing it out over the pail she brought it to Alandra's forehead.

"I swear your as bad as Louis. Getting hurt and sick right and left. I cannot keep up."

"Do not fret Marscha. I am fine. "

Marscha sat up. "We both know that's damn well not the truth. If it was you wouldn't be lain up in bed like an invalid!" Marscha's hand quickly covered her mouth recalling that those words had flown freely from her mouth.
Ducking her head she quickly begin to sputter apologies, all Alandra did was laugh.

"I knew there was a spitfire in there somewhere."

If vampires could blush, Marscha would be a bright pink.
"Louis, you make sure to keep that cloth wet, I must go inform Dracula."