Tuesday Teaser – Errand Girl of the Undead Chapter 7

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Tis the season for spooky/paranormal kind of stories, so here’s another installment of Errand Girl of the Undead!  Remember, this is unedited as of yet.

In case you need to catch up or forgot what’s happened since August:

Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
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Chapter Seven

A sleek head broke through the trees, large pointy antlers gracing its majestic brow. Ordinarily an animal as grand as this one would have me stopping to gaze in wonder, but it’s black eyes were rolling with fear, its side heaving with the exertion of the run. It was heading right at me, but it was obvious that something was chasing it. No time to think. I jumped out of the way, diving into the bush, more sticks puncturing my skin. I hoped the rogue wolf wasn’t what was chasing the stag. I didn’t want to become something’s chew toy.

The graceful beast leapt past me and continued on, into the clearing. Dammit. I hoped it didn’t damage the crime scene any. Following in its wake I spotted a familiar figure. I could almost feel the steam pouring from my ears.

“Dammit Samson! You nearly got me trampled! Is that your tactic now? Trying to get other things to do me in so you don’t have to get your hands dirty?”  I yelled as I struggled to my feet, wincing when I realized I really did impale myself on a sharp branch.

The demon stopped and looked me over head to toe, taking in the blood, smudges, and leaves I’m sure were in my hair. What was he doing here? I could go for weeks without seeing him and now it was three times in one day. What’s up with that?

“Ellie. Are you well?”  He stood several feet away from me. Smart demon. Had he been closer I would have punted him to the moon.

“Do I look well?” Ooh if only one could really kill with sarcasm.

He cocked his head to the side. “Not especially. Do you realize you have a branch sticking out of your thigh? It’s bleeding.  Your thigh that is, not the branch.”

“Stater of the obvious,” I mumbled before I grabbed the offending stick. Gritting my teeth I gave it a quick tug.  Oh, that was not pleasant. I tossed the bloody branch at Samson in frustration.  He took a step to the side to avoid it. Stupid demon.

Hot, thick blood was running down my leg and into my sock. Ugh, what a gross feeling. I bent and slapped my hand over the hole.  What was I going to do? I couldn’t hang around gushing blood. If the wolf was still in the area, this amount of iron-filled substance would definitely attract it.

Suddenly Samson was at my side, tugging at my shirt.

“What are you doing?” I tried to slap his hands away. What a time to try and cop a feel. Dumb randy demon.

“No worries, your virtue will stay intact, today anyway,” he told me with a leer before ripping a strip off the bottom of my shirt, turning into a tummy baring half tee. He bent and with swift motions tied the cotton around my leg, tight enough to hurt but also help control the blood loss.

Before I could thank him, he swept me up in his arms, like I was some kind of damsel in distress.  It was odd to be so close to him after all our standoffish years.  His chest was broad and warm, the fuzz of his short blue fur comforting. I had forgotten how soft he was. As a kid I frequently napped with my head on Samson’s chest. His heart, which beat more erraticallythan a human’s, was surprisingly comforting to me and often lulled me to sleep.

“What are doing?” I asked, realizing how exhausted I had become.

He raised a furry brow. “Taking you to get that hole fix?”

I frowned. “I have to go check out the site first. What if that stupid deer wrecked it? Why were you chasing it anyway?” I felt his shoulders move in a shrug.

“For fun?”

He got a half-hearted slap on the arm for that. “You’re so mean.”

“I know,” he admitted. “Come on now. We can come back out here tomorrow, okay?”

I was too tired to fight him so I nodded in agreement. Laying my head against his chest, my heavy lids shut. Before he teleported us back to my house, I thought I felt him kiss my forehead. I had to have been delusion though. There’s no way Samson would have kissed me, right?

 

 

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