Vampire Warlords: The Clockwork Vampire Chronicles - Plot & Excerpts
For a few moments he thought he'd been on the whiskey again, down that hole, locked in that dungeon, and a terrible dread stole over him and he rifled frantically through the pages of his fractured memory. But then, like the break of a new dawn, images slowly filtered back through the upper reaches of consciousness. Black Pike Mines. Dandall, Grey Tail and Jagor Mad. Crossbow bolt. Right hook… Kell clutched for the bolt, but it had been removed, his shoulder bound with a torn section of shirt which he recognised as Saark's fine lace frippery. Great, he thought. Just what I need. Saved from death by a dandy idiot. "Don't worry. There's no badness in there. And if there was, I'll be damned if I was sucking on your foul necrotic flesh." Kell groaned, clutching his head, and sat up like a bear emerging from hibernation. His dark shirt was torn and bloodstained. The world swam. Then, he thought of Nienna. He rose, like a colossus, and strode at Saark.
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