The Last of the Red Hot Vampires - By Katie MacAlister Page 0,22

imagine why you would do so," Dame Margaret said with a shrug.

"Look, this has gone far enough," I said, getting angry. "As I explained to Theo, we are not the gullible, helpless tourists we may look to be, and frankly, we've had a hell of a day and I'm really not going to put up with any more fun and games a la Theo. Feel free to trot back to him and tell him that your little scheme didn't work, and the police will be contacting him about this continued harassment."

Tansy pursed her lips. Dame Margaret frowned. Sarah clutched my arm even tighter.

"We are already late, Portia Harding. I don't understand the purpose of your little joke, but we have a job to do. Tansy, if you please?"

"This is absolutely insaaaaaaaaa - "

Before I knew what was happening, little round butterball Tansy threw herself at me, slamming into me with a force that knocked me backward several feet onto my butt. I stared in stunned disbelief at her as she did the flying dive toward me, knocking the breath out of me as her not-insubstantial form squashed me like a ripe bug. My head hit the ground, making me see stars for a few seconds, my already injured shoulder screaming with reawakened pain.

"Sweet mother of reason, what do you think you're doing?" I shrieked as Tansy grabbed my hair and started slamming my head against the floor. "Sarah, call the cops!"

"I can't move," Sarah yelled back, her voice strained. "Something seems to be holding me back."

"You are not the champion," Dame Margaret said with irritating calm. "Only a champion can assist a subject."

"Stop it, you crazy old lady!" I screamed as Tansy sat on me and continued to pound my head against the floor. I struggled against her, trying to push her off me, but for an old woman, she was remarkably strong. It didn't help that one of my arms was just about incapacitated due to my sore shoulder, or that my head was becoming more and more befuddled with each wallop on the floor. "Someone help me!"

Tansy's face was twisted with concentration, her teeth bared in a grotesque parody of a smile.

"Fifteen seconds," Dame Margaret said in a bored voice. "I suggest that you make your move soon, Portia Harding."

"Arrrrrrrgh!" I bellowed, trying to twist my way out of Tansy's vicious grip. Part of my mind, the part that annoys me the most, pointed out with abstracted amusement the irony of being beaten up by an overweight, elderly lady after having earlier survived attacks by an extremely fit man.

"Ten seconds."

"Are you all right, Portia?" Sarah called.

"No...I...am...not..." I answered in between head bangings. "Gaaaarr!"

"Can't you just push her off you?" she asked. "It's just one old lady."

"This isn't an old lady; it's a big-time wrestler in disguise," I snarled, trying to pry Tansy's hands from my head.

"Five seconds."

"Well then...you're just going to have to persuade her to stop," Sarah said, quite unreasonably in my opinion. "Without striking her, of course. I do not condone physical abuse of the elderly."

"Granng!"

"And...cease."

In a twinkling, Tansy released me and hopped up, immediately straightening her shapeless wool skirt and blouse, the former of which had been somewhat rumpled during her attack on me. "What happened?" she asked, peering down at me.

"That's what I'd like to know," I answered a bit woozily. With slow, careful movements, I sat up, feeling the back of my head. There was a horribly tender spot, from which tendrils of pain snaked out and wrapped themselves around my brain. "I'm going to have a hell of a goose egg back there. What have I ever done to you that you'd attack me like that?"

"Why didn't you defend yourself?" Tansy asked, looking confused.

Sarah rushed over and helped me to my feet, her face red with anger. "You people are insane - insane! How dare you assault us! You may be elderly, but that does not give you the right to beat up whom soever you feel like!"

The ground dipped beneath my feet for a moment. I clutched Sarah and tried to blink away the dizziness.

"Subject failed to manifest any sort of defense whatsoever," Dame Margaret said as she wrote in a small notebook. She tucked the pencil into the book and put both away in her pocket, cocking an eyebrow at me. "Let's hope you do better on the second trial. That will commence tomorrow."

"Could someone call the police?" Sarah asked, gently pushing me toward my chair. Bettina and the others