Vlad raised his eyebrows. ‘You have such a strange mind, Agnes. Of course, you are not one of the . . . cattle. I expect that no witch is. You people tend to know your own mind.’
He gave her a toothy grin, and on a vampire this was not pleasant.
‘I wish I did. Come along.’
There was no resisting the pull, unless she wanted to be dragged along the ground.
‘Father’s very impressed with you witches,’ he said, over his shoulder. ‘He says we should make you all vampires. He says you’re halfway there anyway. But I’d much rather you came to see how marvellous it could be.’
‘You would, would you? I’d like to be constantly craving blood?’
‘You constantly crave chocolate, don’t you?’
‘How dare you!’
‘Blood tends to be low in carbohydrates. Your body will adapt. The pounds will just drop away . . .’
‘You’ll have complete control over yourself . . .’
‘I’m not listening!’
‘All it takes is a little prick—’
‘It’s not going to be yours, mister!’