doubts that this little leaguer could kill supernaturals even with the aid of weapons. “She’s just lucky,” he told Sainvire.
As for Maple, the girl’s inability to handle this simple social situation lost her some Kool-Aid points.
But she did concede that Poe had lived a decade or so of her life alone, which would explain the warped social skills. And they had invaded her space before she had time to dress.
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Only Sainvire had the utmost confidence in the girl’s abilities. He’d seen firsthand what Poe could do under duress. She was also a damn fine shot, accurately able to shatter two vampire heads at once. He sensed the doubts around him, but they would just have to see for themselves. Besides, Poe’s husky voice penetrated his senses like nothing else.
Perla was the first to break the silence. “Here are your clothes and shoes, dear.” She smiled as Poe’s eyes lingered on a Voltron figure on the woman’s sleeve.
“We have washers and dryers downstairs. Hope you don’t mind.” Poe shook her head, mumbling a thank you.
“You’ll find a new toothbrush in the bathroom and some ibuprofen. You must be really sore by now.”
Because Poe kept staring at her with those big eyes with a pinched look, Perla decided to be a little more specific. “You can take a shower now if you wish. You have a long afternoon ahead of you.” She indicated Joseph with her head. “Joe there will outfit you with new weapons, and Maple will show you the vampire’s most vulnerable areas, the ones Sister Ann neglected to teach you. So go on and get ready so you can have lunch beforehand.”
Poe nodded once and slinked out of the bed barefoot and into the privacy of the bathroom. None of the vampires or Perla failed to notice the tattered condition of Sainvire’s old trousers which overnight had sprouted little strings from the hacked hems. The four visitors held their urge to laugh until after the young woman had shut the bathroom door. Then they let loose.
If Poe did hear laughter, she ignored it, for among the folded clothes Perla handed her were three new pairs of cotton bras. At that moment, she simply 140
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wanted to get gobbled down by any miserable monsters looking to have a meal.
(((
Acutely aware of the prying eyes hoping for a repeat of the night before, Poe made it a point to eat more slowly, savoring the flavors of hash browns, pancakes, and veggie sausages.
“Are we correct in assuming you’re vegetarian, Poe?” Habib asked in a prim British accent. He and the other three chefs joined the girl, Perla, Maple, and Joseph during brunch.
“Um, I never thought of that, but I guess so,” Poe answered, drinking a draught of freshly squeezed orange juice. “My dad could drink a gallon of this stuff without taking a breath.”
It looked like she would have three escorts for the rest of the day. As she finished her O.J., Poe surreptitiously checked out Joseph who poured some Plasmacore into two glasses, handing one to Maple.
Her gaze turned to Perla, dipping a piece of toast in the yellow part of her eggs. She stopped her scrutinizing when she noticed Janice, one of the chefs, looking at her.
“How’s breakfast, young lady?” she asked.
Poe swallowed and enthusiastically answered,
“Delicious! You guys are the best cooks in the world.”
The chefs beamed, promising dinner to be a truly lavish affair. Poe smacked her lips and rubbed her tummy in anticipation. “I can’t wait.” Joseph ended all the food talk, feeling rather hungry himself for something altogether different than his liquid meal.
“Enough about food already,” Joseph begged.
“We need to vamoose to the Dirty Harry Room.”
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Poe thanked the chefs again and took her leave, her belly round from the amount of food inside. She wondered about the Dirty Harry Room but decided to wait it out.
It didn’t take her long to utter, “Oh, I get it.” The Dirty Harry Room contained weaponry of all kinds from as early as the 1600s. The room used to be the special library reserve for newspapers, magazines, microfilm, and CDs. Now it carried hundreds of axes, knives, bayonets, crossbows, and of course, guns. The end of the long, bare room boasted nothing but three large target sheets tacked on a wall of wood and tough fibers to blunt the bullets.
Poe’s eyes warily drank the sight of such magnificent weaponry. Her parents, avidly anti-gun, were probably looking down on her with terrible disapproval. But what could she