Of Tea...and Things

Impish Delight

"First tell me whom you serve?" said uncle Lou gravely.

The impish lad grinned, "excellent, sir, one must be cautious when he attempts to meddle in things beyond his ken. But fear not, while most of the Woodfolk scattered about this district are servants or allies of the Fairy Queen, I and a few like me are not."

"An independent agent or an agent for someone else?" pressed Iris.

"And whom do you serve?" countered the pixie boy, "For even this morning I was quite certain you were as yet unable to See, sir, though I believe you were beginning to suspect Things were not as they seemed."

"A supposition I also have reached," said another voice, this one far from cordial, "and one I fear you will rue."

Four sets of surprised eyes turned to look upon this second intruder of the evening, an overly pale young lady guised as a housemaid, who looked as if a fainting couch and smelling salts would be of great service in the next few minutes, but she showed no sign of imminent collapse, indeed, she seemed on the edge of violence. She eyed the imp stonily and sneered, "well do I know you are not on our side, traitor, but I know you have not dared confide in these wretched mortals, yet how have they discovered us?"

"Too many strangers in too small a district," said Uncle Lou evenly, "I knew something strange was going on but had no idea what or why."

"Yet now you can See?" hissed the perturbed vampire.

"All too well, milady," said Squiff grimly, in nowise intimidated by this lesser vampire, having held his own with a far older and sterner individual.

"To your detriment, mortal," snarled she, revealing a set of very pointy teeth, "I am afraid I must silence the lot of you."

"And how do you propose to do that, madam?" asked Iris in grim amusement.

"Do sheep banter so with the wolf?" queried she in irritation.

"Do your worst, madam," grinned Uncle Lou, not in the least intimidated.

She briefly glared at the imp, who showed no sign of interfering but wore a rather thoughtful frown, as if he could not quite understand the behavior of the endangered humans, as she needlessly hissed, "mind your own business!" He shrugged his indifference to her threats and continued to study the peculiar trio and mull over all that had been said and done, trying to guess the riddle.

The vampire could move swifter than sight, at least to a mortal's perception, but that was not the case with her current victims. She leapt upon the master of the house with impunity, slitting his throat as if he were of no more consequence than a barnyard fowl destined for the stewpot. He watched her attack with a perplexed smile and made no move to resist, but there was no blood, no mess, no strangled cry of surprise, there was only Light, dreadful, horrid Light! She flew back with a cry of horror and a hissed imprecation, spat she in disgust, "Bloodless!"

"Ah!" cried the page in triumph, "That explains everything!"

She glared at him dangerously, but there were rules about one immortal setting upon another and the consequences of such a breach were dire. "Wait!" commanded Iris, as the creature thought to flee with her painfully gleaned information.

"You dare command me?" snarled she, but making no further move towards the door and freedom.

"Certainly," grinned my lady broadly, "I believe you would prefer it to the alternative?"

"Yes," hissed she, at last exhibiting a modicum of fear, as the menfolk stared at the lady in incomprehension.

Iris enlightened them, if only to annoy the vampiress, "though of an immortal race, vampires can still be killed, even if they will never succumb to old age or illness."