Collection

Passing the display cases in the grand hall, she paused; he had added a new helmet and breastplate to the collection. "Uh ...," she said, pointing (and he nodded). "Just last night," he shared (jumping ahead of her questions). "It is easy to observe, then infiltrate, then determine who is noble of heart and who is not, and then it is a delight to feed. Every ... organization ... is set up routinely like a buffet." In the candlelight, she took in the ageless splendor of his face and marveled at how much it thrilled her to think that they (whoever "they" were, down through time) never saw him coming. "It's shabbier than the rest," she said, slipping her arm through his, "and drab; nothing beats the ones you collected during the second world war." Dracula nodded. "No, you're quite right, although the Ottomans knew how to make a ravishing impression; they tasted like paprika, garlic, and cumin." "And this one - these?" she prodded, pointing again. "Like Burger King," came the measured and cold reply.