Havermouth, Present TimeThe torture room stank of fear, sweat, and piss. One of the werewolf policewomen stood in a puddle, a look of resignation on her face. As they entered, Connery pulled a face and took a floral embroidered handkerchief from his pocket to cover his nose. “Oof,” he complained. “Disgusting.”“Where did you get that?” Meguitte was amused. Only Connery would be able to source hand-embroidered handkerchiefs in the midst of a war.“Verina,” he told her. “It is an art form truly. I have another if you like, my love. They’re lavender-scented. Real lavender, not that artificial stuff humans use.”“I’m fine, but thank you,” she fought the urge to laugh at him.“Do vampires piss?” The werewolf Patience spat at them. “Do you shit? Do your muscles ache from being forced to stand for days against a wall in chains? Does your skin chafe, blister, and bleed? At least the Van Helsings cage their victims with bedpans and provide food and water. We are dying here, without dignity, a
Last Updated : 2024-05-06 Read more