“Holy crap, he has theme music.” She whispered in astonishment. “Tanya’s given Slade his own theme music for when he rides to the rescue!” Damien’s head tilted, listening. She was right. A trumpet and drum-laden, heroic ode was playing from somewhere. That was… odd. Damien had an uncomfortable sensation of wrongness as he looked around. Did that always happen when Slade appeared? He suddenly couldn’t be sure, nor could he explain it. Not even the Vampire could travel with a full orchestra.
