"Are you going to tell me why you suddenly need to see Dr. Kleinrosebroom?" Bubbles snapped, following close on my heels like one of those annoying little toy Chihuahuas trying to take a bit of your ankle with every step. "He is gravely injured. If they were smart, they might not let you see him. After all, you are the redheaded demon who has brought nothing but troubles upon them causing a war to break out between what was two peaceful vampire communities."
"Has anyone ever implied you should be a motivational speaker?" I asked, throwing the little popcorn fart a shut the hell up glare over my shoulder. Picking up my pace, I hoped against hope that I would make it to Dr. Kleinrosebroom in time. You know...before he started heading down any long, dark tunnels and traveling towards the light.
"No."
"Good, because you suck at it."
I rounded the corner of the corridor we'd been barreling down, only to have to pull up short with all the grace of a blind rhino with an inner ear infection. Drat! I had two choices, left or right. Not an overly difficult decision for most people, but since I had no idea which way I needed to go, I might as well had been trying to decipher the meaning of life. And right now, my life was hanging on my choice to go left or right. Yeah...well...okay...maybe it didn't hang as precariously as Dr. Kleinrosebroom, but still, why couldn't these vamps help a girl out and have some signage on the wall to let a person know where the heck they were going?
"Is there a problem?" Bubbles looked up at me with a self-satisfied smirk on her face. She knew damn well I had no idea which direction to choose.
"Uh...no." I nibbled on my bottom lip, twisting my head nervously trying to decide which route to take. I wasn't about to stoop so low as to ask the eighth forgotten blonde dwarf, Bitchy, which way I needed to go and I doubted my patented inny minny miny mo style of choosing things was going to be overly helpful. I mean, it wasn't like I was trying to decide if I wanted sweet and sour or orange chicken here. That was an easy call, and I snorted to myself. It was always orange chicken, doy. Unless spicy orange chicken is on the menu, then it's always that. And I don't mean the wimpy kind either. I'm talking the real deal spicy orange chicken. The stuff with peppers so hot it makes your gums feel like a medieval dentist has been at them for hours with a pair of rusty tongs. Double drat. Now not only did I not know which way I wanted to go, but now I wanted Chinese food to boot.
"Well, you know," Bubbles said in a rather aggravating sing-song voice, popping my daydream of egg rolls, "I could be persuaded to tell you which way the medical facility is, if..." She never took her calculating eyes off me, even as she brushed Mason's hands off her for the umpteenth time since we came to a stop.
"If what?" I narrowed my eyes suspiciously at her. She looked like a diminutive used-car salesman standing there staring at me like that. All she needed was a cheap leisure suit, some gold chains hanging around her neck, and a couple of tacky pinky rings while she tried to convince me the color "rust" was all the rage these days.
"If you tell me why you are in such a rush to see Dr. Kleinrosebroom." She grinned up at me like the cat who ate the canary. I'm sure if I looked close enough, I'd be able to make out a tiny yellow feather peeking out from the corner of her evilly curled lips.
"Maybe I want to give being a candy striper a try," I snarked back at her, sniffing indignantly. My nose twitched, catching something familiar and piney on the air.
"That is most gracious of you, Mistress," Mason prattled agreeably. The tips of his ears turning a bright pink as his squelchy gaze floated over me from head to toe. "I am sure the good doctor will appreciate your...unique offering." His eyes darted away from me, and he suddenly became very interested with his shoelaces on his hiking boots.
"Uh, thank you, Mason." I wasn't quite sure what to say since I was lying through my pointy teeth, and I didn't have the foggiest idea why he was acting so oddly.
"Only the spawn of Satan himself would think a dying man needed a stripper," Bubbles spat in disgust.
I whirled around to face the both of them. Bubbles gaze blazing, Mason's avoiding. My mouth dropped open in shock at what they were thinking, and I was speechless for a few seconds. Snapping my mouth shut, I winced as my teeth clacked against each other. "Candy striper! Not stripper!" I sputtered out.
"So you are a harlot that offers sweets." She cocked her head to the side and tapped her lip with an index finger while she scrutinized every inch of me until I felt the need to cover myself. "Then again, I suppose an unnatural abomination such as yourself would need to come up with some kind of enticement since your body certainly wouldn't do the trick."
"Listen, you prehistoric pinhead, a candy striper is a person who does volunteer nursing in a hospital. I would think since you are ancient enough to have waited tables at the Last Supper, you would know that. But, I guess, all that time you spent kissing you maniacal Mistress's ass didn't give you enough time to keep up with current terminology." I leaned down, curling my lips into a snarl, so she had a front and center view of my fangs. "And call me abomination one more time, and I will personally see to it you are reunited with that wanker welding weirdo."
Bubbles bravely shrugged an unimpressed shoulder even though I could see her cringe and the pop of fear spark in her eyes at being back in Druilla's claws. Instantly, Mason wrapped a protective arm around her, all but dragging her to his side. Despite my minion shooting death rays at him, and the thought they were having...ugh...sex made my stomach heave...it was kind of cute the way he doted on her, acting as her protector.
Turning around before I ended up tossing my cookies on my beautiful boots, I tentatively sniffed the air again. My blood started to hum a low sensual beat. My body instantly swayed to the rhythm, and I closed my eyes. Every nerve ending began to come to life and pinged like a radar gun. My heart thundered in my chest to the point of pain, and I was suddenly regretting my long love affair with all things bacon. Things inside me that I didn't know existed, ignited with incredible need, promptly taking my mind off thoughts of acute myocardial infarctions. A groan vibrated up my throat that was so loud, it should have made bears look up for miles around. Opening my eyes, I knew exactly which way I needed to go. The way Fang had gone...left.
"This way," I gritted out, my voice sounding like frog bones in a blender. My mouth was so dry, it was hard to swallow, but my body was in fine shape and took off like a guided missile towards the one thing it craved above anything else. I don't even think a BOGO sale at Louboutin would have been able to distract me from seeking out the big galoot as I followed his heavenly scented trail. Which is saying something considering I would lay my life down for a pair of those red-soled shoes which had to be crafted by the hands of Gods.
Within minutes, my bloodhound ability to find the booty had me standing outside the double swinging doors leading to the Compounds medical facility. I squeezed my eyes shut against the nausea taking hold of me and locking me in a gut-wrenching grip. The last time I stood outside these doors, Fang had almost died. Even though every molecule in my body was dancing the cha-cha to get inside....get to him...I couldn't shake the foreboding feeling flickering up my spine.
"Aren't you going to enter?" Bubbles asked, jerking my attention to her.
I frowned down at her and then turned back towards the door. My body screamed yes, but my mind kept saying hell no. I squirmed uneasily. It was if my internal early warning system had gone into Red Alert mode. Sirens were wailing. Red lights were flashing. Both were cautioning me to step away and kicking my fight or flight mode into overdrive. Since I wasn't remotely interested in getting my ass kicked, the idea of getting the hell out of there as fast as possible was winning hands down. I had a motto: When in doubt, take the coward's way out. It had never failed me in the past. But as much as I wanted to run, I couldn't. My feet remained firmly planted where I stood. Behind these doors was my only chance of getting my life back, but...as odd as it seemed...something told me that if I opened them, that life would be forever changed. Even if the doctor could reverse my current condition, nothing would ever be the same again.
Not only did I no longer have Thumbelina's cottage to go home to, but there would be no more returning to my old life. No more shitty Superpumper job. No more Mr. B or whiling my days away reading trashy tabloid rags while stuffing my face with Cheetos. A deep sigh left my heavy chest. I could tap my heels until the cows came home, but there was no going back for me. I would have to start over from scratch, probably under a new identity. Did these vamps have a version of the Witness Protection Program? I cringed and scowled at the doors. Somehow, I doubted it. These guys probably had a more mafia type mentality which included fitting me with a pair of cement shoes as a parting gift. Totally not stylish by the way.
Then there was the teeny weeny little problem of being madly in love with the man whose piney scent drew me to this door of indecisions. My knees grew weak, and I wobbled unsteadily on my feet. If I could be cured and returned to being a plain, old, generic human...I would never see him again. Which wasn't that what I wanted? To be free of this insane situation I had found myself in? It was laughable I could ever be Queen of the vampires. But, as my eyes took in Courtanya's glaring regard, I realized I had accidently accepted a certain amount of responsibility. Too bad I didn't have a freaking clue exactly what to do about it.
I could hear the Jeopardy theme music playing in the back of my mind while I shillyshallied over whether or not to open the door. To be honest, my decision-making capabilities pretty much boiled down to that of a squirrel crossing the road. Sometimes, they turned out alright, but then there were those less than fortunate times when things didn't turn out so well, and I was left having to scrape myself off the street from unsuccessful bad decisions.
"The door says PUSH," Bubbles said slowly as if I couldn't understand English, gesturing towards them.
"I know what it says," I muttered, rolling my eyes. The thought of putting up with Bubbles for all eternity was like eating pudding with a fork, not impossible, but a total freaking pain in the ass.
Taking a steadying breath to calm my nerves, I was hit with another wave of desire slamming into me and I had to swallow back my inner porn star moan. Deciding it would be in my best interest to not breathe any more of Fang's intoxicating fragrance into my already overly aroused state of being, I girded my loins, straightened my shoulders and pushed open the damn doors.
Six humongous vamps were crowded around a small gurney, and six pairs of eyes swiveled in my direction when I entered. It was so quiet you could have heard an ant piss on a piece of cotton. Sweat immediately began to bead on my upper lip. My forehead became cold and clammy, and my palms...awe hell...let's just say I was going to give my deodorant a run for its money. If it failed, it would be no secret I was scared shitless. With a fake smile plastered on my face, I slowly walked into the room, my boots clicking against the tile loud enough to wake the seven sleepers.
The place reeked of antiseptic, testosterone and Fang. My lust for him increased with my every step. Sensing my yearning, his lips peeled back into a seductive smile, and all I could think was 'oh shit.' Do you ever look at someone and just think...wow...let me take your pants off with my teeth. Yeah, well, me too. To take my mind off his leather-clad hips and sinewy muscles bulging out from under a black tank, I studied the rest of the group.
Tallon gave me a brief nod of a greeting, one dark brow rising high above his silver eyes before turning back to attend his patient. Sinclair watched me with a lazy, cool regard, his expressionless face as helpful as a crossword puzzle clue. Saxon, on the other hand, gave me a bright smile, and I instantly felt the corners of my lips lift higher.
But as soon as my gaze collided with Dragos's dead pool stare, my smile fumbled off my face. The guy was as cold as a nudist colony on an iceberg. I couldn't stop the icy shiver tumbling down my spine as his lips curled back, emitting a low growl that vibrated across the room. The dark goatee highlighting the pearly whiteness of his canines, not to mention accentuating the incredibly length of them.
"Dragos," Fang warned, the name coming off his tongue hardly more than a snarl.
He turned his Artic gaze from me toward Fang, his dark eyes narrowing. If looks could kill, poor Fang would have been twitching like a cockroach after a shot of Raid.
"I'll be in the gym," Dragos rumbled, hunching his massive shoulders and stalking towards the doors which I was still standing in front of. The heavy footfalls of his combat boots were drowned out by the sound of my blood pulsing in my ears. "Witch," he hissed under his breath as he passed within inches of me and out the door. An icy blast whooshed by in his wake.
Seriously, that guy had more personality disorders than a physic floor. One of this days, I was going to ask him what his problem was and have it out with him. Preferably, when I was well armed with a couple of high-powered UV sunlamps. A small, evil giggle bubbled up my throat. Who said you had to learn to fight like a man when all you had to do was think like a woman.
"You must be Melanie Wagner," a deep voice with a touch of a sophisticated Southern accent said, snapping my attention away from my thoughts of turning Dragos into a crispy critter.
Looking up, I saw a tall, lean, overly muscled vamp walking my way. Surprise. Surprise. Did any of these guys ever miss a day at the gym? His hair was mid-length I guessed, judging by the height of the moussed up dark spikes tipped with white. Which, now that I thought about it, was kind of cool. Pretty dang hip considering he was a vampire and probably thousands of years old. He also had several piercings. A few in his ears, one in his eyebrow, one protruding from his full bottom lip, and if I wasn't mistaken, those were nipple rings pressing against the tight material of his t-shirt. Glancing down, I noticed he had the typical leathery vamp wear, but he also wore leather cuffs wrapped around each thick wrist, and he held one of them out to me.
"Hello," I said, unsure what else to say. I wasn't much for meeting new people. Especially, vampire type people. Taking his proffered hand, I gave it a quick shake before quickly dropping it and taking a giant step back. I had survived legal corporal punishment in school, lead paint, no car seats, no seat belts, riding a bike without a helmet, sitting in the bed of a pickup going 55 mph down the highway, and drinking water straight out of a garden hose, but each time I met a new vampire, I felt like I was taking my life into my hands.
"She's here," croaked the voice from the gurney. "I must see her." The figure, who I assumed to be Dr. Kleinrosebroom thrashed wildly on the bed. "I must know!"
Author's Note:
Hello my FANGED Fiends,
Sorry about the delay, but you know...those Wattpad glitches! *shakes fist
Anyway...I hope you enjoy a little FANGED Friday on a Saturday, and if you liked it, you'll consider giving it a vote.
Sincerely,
K