FANGED

Chapter Forty-Three

Well...this was tense and tremendously disturbing, I thought to myself as we started off down the long corridor like a couple of first cousins forced to attend prom together. Fortunately, the hallway was well lit, clean and devoid of anything remotely scary...except for the vampire walking beside me. He didn't say a word...not a peep and he looked like he had just stepped out of some million dollar multi-international boardroom, but don't let his sexy looks fool you. Underneath that perfectly pressed exterior lurked something so dangerous, he would make your scariest nightmares seem like lollipops and ice-cream with sprinkles.

It didn't help that the sound of my heels clicking with each step I took seemed to be a hundred times louder than what generally seemed necessary for a pair of shoes to make on marbled, tiled flooring. While Sinclair's footfalls on the other hand were completely silent, as was the vampire himself. It was like walking next to a ghost and was creeping me out. Not even his clothing dared to make a sound as he walked and needless to say, each echoing click, click, click of my footsteps was shattering my anxiety like glass and putting me more on edge.

Not only was I tromping like a Clydesdale pulling a beer wagon on the Fourth of July, but for every one of his long, stylish strides, I had to take two to keep up...so basically, I was doing an awkward trot beside him which made the sound unsteady and disjointed. I tried to think light thoughts like I was a feather or a super stealthy ninja and put an end to the deafening click, click, click. But, sadly, all I accomplished was to look like I was having lurching body spasms.

"Are you alright?" He looked down at me, his dark gaze flicking dismissively over me as he frowned.

"Just Jim Dandy," I muttered back. For the first time since slipping on these shoes, I sort of regretted my decision. Yes...they were beautiful...incredibly, fantastically beautiful...but, a very small, teeny, tiny part of me thought perhaps I would have been better off in a pair of something like my old Crocs. I shuddered at the thought and swallowed hard as I vomited a little. Immediately, I banished the thought before it made me violently ill.

Of all the things Fang blew up in my house, I was not the least bit sorry those dreadful shoes had went up in smoke...along with those appalling Superpumper uniforms. It made me dang near giddy with joy to know I would never have to be draped in orange again. Don't get me wrong, I totally get that there are rules and safety issues and all the blah, blah, blah in the workplace, but seriously...a little fashion forward thinking never hurt. I had constantly tried to talk to Brion the Boob into something a little trendier, but he obstinately refused, sticking to the uncool and boring garb that had been the bane of my existence.

I looked down at the set of exquisiteness adorning my feet. No...I made the right decision. Just because these vamps could practically float when they walked didn't mean I had to drop my coolness torch. There was no rest for the fashionable and apparently, no way to be quiet about it either.

"Melanie."

Sinclair's sharp voice cut through my introspection and startled me to the point of making me skitter across the floor. It wasn't exactly a shout, but it definitely was a cool command, forcing me to pay attention and I had to grab on his arm to keep from face-planting onto the marble. The look he gave me for having wrinkled his shirt, made me jerk my hand back as if it had been burned.

"Yes?" I said, trying to sound casual, but actually sounding like I had just pinched my finger in a car door. Okay, so my coolness torch was more like a penlight, so sue me.

"I was wondering if I may have a closer inspection of your person?"

Closer inspection of my person? That didn't sound good. I mean...it sounded elegant coming out of his accented mouth...if you weren't the one about to be inspected. Images of those frogs we dissected in high school came to mind. Only instead of Kermit, I imagined it would be me spread out and pinned to a tar tray.