She paused for a moment. Melusine ripped strips off her under-petticoats and fashioned a pad, which she bandaged as tightly as she could over the wound, working swiftly, unperturbed by the gore. She had been warned time and time again by Sebastian that fame would mean the end of her freedom, being hounded in to the next lifetime by vampire and power seekers. Traps, set with peculiar cunning; she had encountered them everywhere. At the same moment a martial flourish, proceeding from cow's horns, tin canisters filled with stones, bladders and cat-gut, with other sprightly, instruments, was struck up, and, enlivened by this harmonious accompaniment, the troop reached its destination in the best possible spirits for an encounter. I want to boast myself. " "Puppy-love.
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