Almost Fangmous by Elle Wren Burke

Almost Fangmous by Elle Wren Burke

Author:Elle Wren Burke [Elle Wren Burke]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: anonymous
Published: 2022-08-10T00:00:00+00:00


Chapter Seven

Armed with a description of Henna—short, blond, and wears denim shorts with cowboy boots—Lynnae, Disha, and I headed for the security headquarters to see if they’d spied her yet. Frankie told us she was likely to be on their radar already, so I was hopeful.

My patience for the crowd thinned as my pain increased from driving the scooter. Sitting for extended periods might look easy, but it’s painful for me, y’all. My back muscles lock up from trying to stabilize my spine. My hips hurt from the extra pressure. Keeping my knees bent in one position aches. And that day knives had crawled into my shoulders, digging farther in the longer I drove.

As the pain increases, so does my grumpiness. Thus, I basically left the horn blaring the whole time we navigated the crowd. I may have even driven into some people to get them the fangs out of my way.

At one point, the music and the crowd quieted for a dramatic pause in a song, which means everyone nearby heard me yell, “GET YOUR BLOODSUCKING PURSE OUT OF MY WAY, LADY!” Luckily, said lady only responded by stepping out of the way. And everyone else around seemed to find the situation to be rather comical.

Security was running out of a white tent not far from the stage. Before I could scoot my way there, though, Lynnae threw her arm out in front of me. Cambria’s Woes was playing a faster song now, so the noise booming around us was once again causing us to shout.

“Josie!” My roommate pointed but I couldn’t see anything from my lower position. She turned to Disha instead. “Does that look like her?”

She shrugged. “Maybe. I can’t see if she has cowboy boots on or not.” Vestine and Frankie didn’t have a picture of Henna. They also didn’t know her social media handles, so we only had her description.

With a nod of agreement, we decided to advance toward the woman Lynnae had spotted. We needn’t have bothered pushing a short, rather ripped vamp out of the way, almost causing an accidental mosh pit—which didn’t seem like a good place to be on a mobility scooter. The woman in question jumped onto a speaker, giving us a view of her cowboy-booted feet, and bellowed at the top of her lungs, “WHERE’S TORIAN? GIVE US TORIAN! GIVE US CASKET!”

Yellow-shirted security officials headed towards her, but she leaped off the speaker in an impressive maneuver that could have qualified her for the vamp Olympics. Security backed off and the woman started to push closer to the backstage gate.

I waved Lynnae and Disha forward, wanting them to follow Henna while I inched along like a sloth, but they exchanged a look and only Lynnae took off after her. I suppose it was nice of them not to abandon me, but we needed to reach Henna.

Lynnae, always so efficient, was standing right behind Henna while she hassled a security guard. She was short like Vestine and Frankie said. A



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