The Last of the Red-Hot Vampires by Katie MacAlister

not the champion,” Dame Margaret said with irritating calm. “Only a champion can assist a subject.”
    â€œStop 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.
    â€œFifteen seconds,” Dame Margaret said in a bored voice. “I suggest that you make your move soon, Portia Harding.”
    â€œArrrrrrrgh!” 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.
    â€œTen seconds.”
    â€œAre you all right, Portia?” Sarah called.
    â€œNo…I…am…not…” I answered in between head bangings. “Gaaaarr!”
    â€œCan’t you just push her off you?” she asked. “It’s just one old lady.”
    â€œThis isn’t an old lady; it’s a big-time wrestler in disguise,” I snarled, trying to pry Tansy’s hands from my head.
    â€œFive seconds.”
    â€œWell 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.”
    â€œGranng!”
    â€œAnd…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.
    â€œThat’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?”
    â€œWhy 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.
    â€œSubject 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.”
    â€œCould someone call the police?” Sarah asked, gently pushing me toward my chair. Bettina and the others still sat around the table, as still as statues. “And an aid unit. Portia looks very pale.”
    â€œI don’t understand why she didn’t protect herself,” Tansy said, back to looking like a fluffy-haired, jolly grandmother. I knew just how deceptive that appearance was. “Why didn’t she do something, Letty?”
    â€œNo idea,” Dame Margaret answered, pursing her lips again. “But it’s no concern of ours. Who’s next on the list?”
    Tansy pulled a piece of paper from her purse. “A throne applicant.”
    â€œOh, good. Always like testing them. They have such polite manners. Good evening!”
    â€œSomeone stop them,”