FANGED

Chapter Fifty-Two

"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.