After parting ways with Saxon, I headed in the direction he told me to go. This time, he drew me a little map on the back of a napkin to follow so I wouldn't get lost again. Which was mighty nice of him, considering I was still pissed off, and fuming over our conversation. Usually, my brain worked like the Bermuda Triangle. Information goes in, and gets lost forever. But not this time. This time I remembered every word, and tromped down the hallway like a woman on a mission. Joan of Arc had nothing on me. I was on my way to save my minion, and what the hell...I might make a stand for all minion kind while I was at it.
Yes, Courtanya was a monumental pain in the ass at times, but she was a living being for cripes sake. Not something you could discard or ship off to a new home simply because you gave your foster parent's daughter a mullet for Christmas. Okay, so I was probably a teeny bit oversensitive about the subject, beings I had been tossed around more than a Frisbee at Woodstock when I was a kid. So sue me. Regardless of my reasons, I could totally identify with how Bubbles must be feeling right now...or would be feeling...if I was absolutely positive she actually had feelings. Besides, I take great pride in being just crazy enough to make people question their own sanity. If I could make these vamps question their years of messed up thinking by proving Bubbles wasn't a threat to them, and change their stance on immortals, then consider the challenge accepted. There was tiger blood running through my veins, and I was about to go Charlie Sheen crazy on their asses.
In the meantime, I would have to make sure she never left my side, which in the long run benefited the both of us in a winner winner chicken dinner sort of way. I would force the Vampyre world to accept my tiny terror of an immortal, and she would keep Fang from crowning me Queen with his mighty, raging scepter. At least I was assuming it was mighty. I really had no idea, beings I had never actually seen it. I had felt it a few times...accidentally, of course...and from those encounters I got the sense of something enormous lurking behind his zipper.
Suddenly, my feet stopped moving, my heart started to beat in my chest like it had a hammer, and a purpose. My brain, which use to be such a reliable, and trustworthy organ on occasions, came to an abrupt halt. The hamster in the wheel ground to a stop faster than if Victor Fries had shot it with his freeze gun. All because I had thought of...him.
Groaning, I slouched against the wall once my body came to the realization he wasn't physically in the room, and allowed me to move again. Who was I kidding? I was never going to be able to resist him. Not with his obnoxious blood coursing through my body spraining my uterus at the merest mention of his name.
While I waited for my hormones to become less Marilyn Monroe and more Mother Teresa-ish, I thought about the big lug's decree concerning Bubbles. I mean, I knew he didn't like her, so why would he go through the trouble of making sure nothing happened to her? With a snap of his Kingly fingers, he could have ordered her death...but he didn't. Either he really did care about my feelings or he was just being abnormally sweet in hopes it would lure me into his bed. I snorted. Fat chance buddy. I would rather be a love piñata in a Mexican prison than to sleep with...I shook my head. Nope. No more thinking about you-know-who. My nookie cookie couldn't sustain another jolt to the ovaries like that.
With a colossal amount of effort, I pushed myself off the wall, and concentrated on continuing to follow Saxon's squiggly lines until I ran into the set of stairs that would lead me up to the asylum. I eyed them suspiciously with a why-am-I-here-again look. My nose wrinkled at the unpleasant smell wafting towards me from the drafty chasm of rickety wooden stairs leading up into the darkness. Looking up, I half expected to see body parts hanging from the ceiling. Turning back around, I took in the pristine marbled floors, and warm carved wood of the hallway I had just walked down. It was a far cry from the ghastly haunted looking staircase in front of me.
"What? Did you vamps run out of funds when you were remodeling?" I grumbled to the emptiness.
Facing the stairs once again, it was hard to imagine they even belonged here. Everything about the Compound had been top notch stuff, not even a speck of dust anywhere...but here, it was a different story. The sad carpet covering each step was dusty and worn, faded of any color, and frayed around the edges with big gaping holes as if something had been chewing its way down each step. Cobwebs hung down in long floating sheets like ghostly silhouettes dancing to a grim tune nobody but they could hear. Though I had no trouble seeing in the dark, it didn't exactly make me want to go up there. I was paralyzed with more fear than if I had heard a Justin Bieber song, and actually liked it.
Taking a deep breath to gather my courage, I immediately regretted it. It smelled of something dead mixed with must and mildew. "Probably dead rats and black mold," I groused under my breath as I carefully made my way up the steep stairs. Each one creaking and groaning ominously in protest with each step I took. There wasn't a hint of light. No safety nightlights...not even a sconce to hold a candle to light the way, but oddly enough...there were plenty of pictures in filthy, tilted frames lining the wall. Each held disturbing images of children with vacant expressions, large eyes surrounded with dark colored circles, playing in the yard out front of the asylum. A cold shiver ran down my spine. "Nice homey touch," I muttered, hastily making my way up the rest of the stairs.
At the top, I found myself back inside the creepy nuthouse...or...um...to be more politically correct, insane asylum. But seriously, I had to be nuts to be willingly standing back here again. Carefully, I tried to tiptoe my way across the dilapidated tiled floor. Hoping against hope I didn't step in anything disgusting. "Bubbles," I hissed out, keeping my eyes peeled for movement. "Are you up here?" I strained my neck muscles listening for any response, but none came. Drat. Where was that ungrateful murderous minion?
Unfortunately, my voice echoed through the vast open space, and spooked a swarm of bats, sending them swooping down out of the vaulted ceiling like a swarm of attacking fighter jets. "Augh!" I did what I hated the most. I screamed like a girl. Waving my hands in sheer panic to keep them from getting tangled up in my hair as they streaked past me, I ducked my head, and made a run for it. Charging blindly forward, I made a beeline for the first opened door I came across, and slammed it shut behind me. "Ugh," I moaned, shimmying and shaking as I ran my hands through my hair. "Bats are so totally gross!"
Wiping the last of the bat cooties and clinging cobwebs off me, I turned to see where I was at. I seemed to have ran into a nursery of sorts, if the crib made of rotting wood sitting in the corner was any indication. Slowly making my way over to it, I peeked in. Relief flooded my system at seeing it was only filled with tattered linens, and a threadbare stuffed rabbit that looked like it had a serious case of mange, and was missing an eye. I don't know what I had expected to see, but right now it wouldn't have surprised me if I saw Chucky himself sitting there asking me if I wanted to play.
"What are you doing here?"
For the second time in less than a few minutes, I screamed like a hillbilly girl on bath day. Whirling around, I came face to face with Courtanya. I was so damn happy to see her, I hauled her into a fierce hug. Immediately, she started flaying around cussing a blue streak as she tried to wiggle out of my grasp. But I hung on tighter than Hugo the Abominable Snowman did Bugs Bunny, promising to hug him, and stroke him, and cuddle him, and sing to him, and call him George.
"I found you at last," I chirped happily, swinging her around.
"Let me go you demented spawn of Satan," she hissed angrily, batting at my arms with her tiny fists of fury.
But she wasn't fooling me. I felt that small tug as she hugged me back just before she started whooping on me like a redheaded stepchild. Smiling to myself, I quickly dropped her in case she managed to grab a chunk of that creepy crib, and stake me with it.
"What are you doing up here?" I asked, taking another gander of the cadaverous appearance of our surroundings. Shivering at the rest of the broken furniture clearly designed for children, I snatched her hand, and headed back out into the hall filled with rooms the size of cubicles.
"It's quiet. I came up here to think."
I was somewhat surprised she answered me honestly, that wasn't like Bubbles at all.
"Why?" I asked suspiciously, eyeing her warily. I noticed she had changed out of the ghastly moo-moo from our stay at the Condemned Comfort Inn, and was now wearing a short plaid skirt, white blouse with a charming pair of shiny black Mary Janes. She looked like a sweet schoolgirl in that outfit, too bad I knew better. I didn't let her cuteness fool me. I knew she possessed the mouth of a sailor, the temper of a Real Housewife, and the tolerance of a drunken Irishmen all wrapped up in an adorable package.
"Why not?" she sniffed, tossing her blonde bob over her shoulder. "I don't have to answer to you. No matter what everyone else claims, you are not my Queen." Crossing her arms over her chest, she glared at me with those Bambi eyes of hers throwing out some serious daggers.
I flushed a bright red. "Oh...um...you remembered that did you?"
"His Majesty graciously gave me back my memories." Now it was her turn to blush, only hers was a sickly shade of green. "I am wishing he hadn't. The memory of you writhing on top of him like a wanton whore still makes me ill."
"Hey! It wasn't like that!"
She snorted and rolled her eyes.
"It wasn't!" I insisted. "It...it was a mistake."
"You expect me to believe you accidently fell on top of him while the both of you were partially dressed, and you mistakenly suckled nourishment from his royal neck?" Bubbles laughed dryly. "It utterly jargogles the mind you would think anyone would be beef-witted enough to accept that."
"Jargogles? Beef-witted?"
"It means...."
I waved my hand dismissively in the air. "I know what it means." Actually I didn't, but I didn't really care. "You're a thousand years old, and talk funny...blah, blah, blah...I get it."
"I'm not a thousand years old," she snapped. Throwing up her hands in exasperation, she stalked off in a huff. A cold breeze whistled through the corridor, making a cacophony of chilling noises as it slithered its way through the building. With a small yelp, I hustled after her.
She tromped past room, after empty room. Each one in a various state of shambles, and just as eerie as the other. My eyes locked on an old, dingy surgical table covered in debris, but a bit of moonlight managed to glint off a couple of places where the dust hadn't settled. The sight of it sent a shiver tickling up my spine. Lobotomy anyone?
I was so engrossed in thoughts of what horror had occurred on that table, I almost ran into the back of Bubbles who had come to a stop by a large window. It was massive, starting at the floor, and then arching up at the ceiling with a few broken and missing panes of glass looking out over the unkempt landscape below. Peeking over her shoulder, I looked out over the overgrown lawn shimmering sadly with regret and sorrow under the full moon. A woeful chant drifted on the upper reaches of the trees from the evening breeze. It was if the whole place cried into the night at the pain and suffering these walls had witnessed. I turned to face what must at one point in time had been the gardens stretching towards the woods running at the back of the property. The tangle of shrubbery and vines where nothing more but unmoving shadows, untouched by the moonlight. At least it was no longer thundering and raining, but it didn't help the dreariness yawning out before us. The asylum, the view...all of it was horribly depressing. A perfect place if a person was contemplating ending it all.
Glancing down, I took in Bubbles solemn face. Is that why she had come here? Because she was thinking of ending her immortal life? Panic filled me. Frantically, I tried to think of something soothing to say. But what? And then it hit me like a ton of bricks. If there was one thing Bubbles couldn't stand, was yours truly. If there anything guaranteed to bring joy to her heart, it would be knowing how bad my life sucked.
"I'm not the Queen," I said in a rush. "Nobody wants me to be Queen. Sinclair hates the idea...I think...I'm not sure. The guy is kind of hard to read, but I get a feeling he isn't thrilled at the prospect of having me for a Queen. And then there's this other vamp...Dragos...he really doesn't like me. In fact, given a chance, I think he'd happily rip out my throat..."
"What do you mean, you are not the Queen," she interrupted, turning narrowed eyes up at me. "I saw you drink his blood."
"Yeah, see about that. Fang totally tricked me." I ignored the pang of need that hit me directly in the lady garden at the mention of his name, which like the one outside the asylum, was suddenly in dire need of plowing. "I didn't know that...that...you know...drinking from him would instantly turn me into member of the vampy aristocracy."
"But. You. Drank. From. Him," she said in a monosyllabic growl.
"Technically, yes...but I didn't finish or anything. Remember? You interrupted before we could..." I bit my lip hard against the blaze of desire burning inside me, keeping me from being able to speak.
"Finish?" One perfectly plucked brow arched. "You mean you haven't mated with his Majesty?"
"No," I groaned, panting like a retarded dragon. Sweat started to bead on my upper lip while my stomach started turning somersaults. My whole being became riveted on one primary focus. Sex. Specifically, sex with Fang. I was a mass of pulsing erogenous zones that could only be eased by the touch of one man. One vampire. One being on this planet who could ease my pain with a touch of his hands. His beautiful, long-fingered, extremely skilled, masculine hands.
She shoved her face into mine. "You know if you don't mate, the pain becomes unbearable."
"You don't say," I wheezed. The sight of her pixie face inches from mine brought me out of my sexual stupor. With difficulty, I stood up from my stooped over position, and looked around. My mind was a muddle of lust, desire and memories of having him near me. His lips on mine. His hot breath warming my neck as he sank his teeth into my sensitive skin. My legs wobbled, and I almost dropped to the floor as the images became more erotic with every thought.
And then she laughed. Not a little tee-hee-hee titter either. But a full-bellied, diabolical cackle that rang out, dang near shaking down the crumbling walls around us. The sound of it succeeded in turning off the floodgates of yearning as if she had twisted a ball valve.
"You...have to be miserable," she gasped between howls of utter glee, grabbing her stomach as she buckled over in another fit of giggles.
"I hope you pop a rib," I muttered, wondering why I had thought dragging her around with me had been such a brilliant idea. I would much rather have her trying to split my skull open with an ax than have to stand here listening to her elation over my situation. I looked out the window. Hmmm...we were good five stories up. I wonder if immortals land on their feet?
At long last, her laughter died off in a hiccup, and I breathed a sigh of relief. Turning on my heel, I headed back towards the stairwell of doom. "Now that you have that out of your system, can we leave now?"
"Why?" she asked.
I gritted my teeth. For the first time, I wished she was one of those simpering, normal immortals who just did what they were told. Folding my hands into tight fists at my side, I turned to face her. "Because I need your help to make sure the ritual never happens. Congratulations, you are now officially the royal third wheel. Now let's go."
"You don't want to mate with his Majesty?" The shock in her voice made it sound higher pitched than normal. I ignored her question, and continued on my way. "What's wrong with his Majesty? What? Do you think a redheaded witch like yourself is too good for him?" she said with an angry snort.
"There is nothing wrong with...him," I choked out. "I don't have a problem with him, as long as he doesn't talk to me, look at me or is anywhere near me...and I don't see or hear his name. Other than that, everything is just peachy."
"Many females would be willing to cut off their own arm to grace his Majesties bed."
"Yay for them," I grumbled. "Look, getting into bed with him may seem tempting and all, but so was getting a first class ticket on the Titanic, and look how that turned out."
Bubbles cocked her head at me, her large brown eyes narrowing in contempt. "You should be honored, not comparing something as sacred as becoming the Vamprye Queen to a tragedy at sea."
Okay, that was it. I marched up to her, and grabbed her by her prime little white collar, picking her up off the floor. I wasn't a violent person, but sometimes extenuating circumstances called for drastic measures. "Do you want me to be Queen?" I hissed out through my teeth, doing my best to channel a little of her former Mistress to put some fear into her sanctimonious butt. Hey...I hated the way Cruella treated Courtanya as much as the next guy, but right now, I needed all the help I could get, and my hormones were raging out of control. Don't judge me.
Unable to speak, she furiously shook her head, her hands scrambling helplessly against mine.
"Good, then you are going to keep your mouth shut, and make sure that I don't end up in his bed."
Bubbles hesitated for a moment, but then nodded her head.
Satisfied I finally had her on my side. I set her back gently until her Mary Janes touched the floor. I felt a tad guilty about manhandling her. Maybe I would get her some ice-cream later, and cookies...and gallons of Diet Coke to make amends for my questionable behavior.
"This would have never happened if you have been executed as the Elders had decreed."
I stumbled at the top of the stairs. Shutting my eyes tight, I pulled a you-know-who, and started counting to ten. Only I had to do it in English, because I didn't know Russian. When I reached ten for the fourth time, I turned to petite pain in the ass. "You know, Bubbles, if you keep pissing me off, when the zombie apocalypse starts...I'm shooting you dead. Whether you're a zombie or not."
Turning, I started down the steps again happy to finally see the bright white glow of the marble up ahead. I had just laid the first of my gorgeous heels on the surface, when the two smorgasbord brothers came bounding down the hallway like pillaging Vikings from their homeland were nipping at their heels.
"Mel Majesty!"
"Majesty Mel!"
They panted and wheeze, screeching to a stop in front of me. "Ve've been looking all over for you!" One of them puffed, grabbing at my hand.
"Yah! Up and down, every'vhere!"
"Well, you found me now," I said, trying to shake one of them loose. "Vhat...ahem...I mean what do you want?"
"His Majesty has been gravely vounded, he is asking for you."
"Dat is vhy ve have been searching. His Majesty is vanting you, yah?"
I reared back. Gravely wounded? My heart leaped up in my throat, threatening to choke me as panic took hold. Oh no...Fang! Every reason I had to be angry at him or needed to stay away from him flew out the window, replaced with fear and worry.
"Take me to him, now!"
We took off at breakneck speed, thundering down each corridor. My feet barely touched the ground as I flew, not paying the least bit attention on how many lefts or rights we took. I only had one thought as my feet pounded down the hallway...to get to him. To save him.
Eventually the twins pulled up short in front of a pair of swinging doors. The kind you would see in a hospital. Holy Moses on a pogo stick! This was serious, and I weaved unsteadily on my feet. Just on the other side, I could sense him. Feel him. Smell his blood. Without thinking, I burst through the doors. My eyes searching the room desperately until they landed on a group of three massive vampires. Slowly, they stepped back when they saw me, revealing Fang's large, prone body stretched out on a gurney with an arrow sticking straight up out of his chest.
A long, loud, keening wail filled the sterile room. All gazes turned at the sound. I too wondered where it was coming from...that is...until I realized it was coming from me.
Author's Note:
Oh no! Fang! What will happen to him? Will he survive? Will Mel be the one who saves him? Stay tuned to find out!
Hello my FANGED Fiends!
At long last, the much anticipated update! Whew...I finally finished it! For a while there, it was hit or miss on whether or not it was going to happen in time. I hope you enjoyed this newest installment, and if you liked it, you will consider giving it a vote. As always, I love hearing from you, and comments are always appreciated. I've been horrible about answering them lately, but know that I do see them, and am chuckling right along with you.
With Christmas right around the corner, I won't be getting any writing done till probably after the first of the year. I know! I know! But until I can get me some clones or a borrow some of Mel's minions, that's how it goes. I can say, that I will try, but yeah...it looks like I am going to have a heavy schedule of Holiday festivities and company until January.
May you have a joyous Christmas season filled with peace, hope and family. I also want to wish you a Happy New Year! May you have boundless ideas, great success, passionate love and never any regrets.
Sincerely,
K