“I'd like to—uh,” I stuttered, “I want to thank you.”
“Whatever for?” he asked.
“For calming Drakulya down. You seem to have some sort of control over him.”
He smiled, leaning on his walking stick. “You flatter me, my dear.”
“Whatever,” I said, having lost my train of thought. That's strange. I looked up at Skrlock. Out of years of habit of keeping my hands covered, I'd replaced the glove on my right hand. I quickly pulled it off. Skrlock wasn't exactly putting a t****l on me, but he had put out his pheromones in an attempt to calm me down, and I did feel nicely calm.
“You look quite ravishing tonight, my dear. May I ask you to favor this old crusty vampire with a dance?”
I looked around. Tame music, and tamer dancing. A waltz, of course.
“I'm not very good. I—”
“Nonsense,” Skrlock
