"Mystical shield?" Liz's curiosity was piqued.
"Doesn't matter. What does matter is that your friend is out cold."
"Did Samantha do something to you?" Liz shifted her attention to her friend, who lay sprawled across a waiting room chair.
Samantha was still dressed for a night of clubbing, glitter-filled hair and all, wrapped in Tristan's expensive jacket.
"Why on earth did she think that outfit was suitable for visiting Lucian in hospital?" Liz muttered, somewhat bewildered.
Tristan chuckled. "Your friend is indeed quite unique."
"Yeah, she's unique but she's a good person," Liz defended.
"Well, a good person who puked on me," Tristan raised his hand, holding Sam's vomit-stained vest and playfully jiggling it.
