Hell On Heels(54)

"I will come to you soon," he promised. "My life is empty without you in it."
"Mine is too," I replied to air since he was gone. This was quickly going down as one of the suckiest days ever. I half expected a gaggle of Angels to pop up out of nowhere and try to off my ass.
The wolf wimpered.
“All right,” I told him as I scanned the area for danger. “I’m going to pick you up. I’ll try not to hurt you, but you look like you’re hurting bad anyway.” Damn if that wolf didn’t look as if he knew what I was saying. Why did Hayden come for a wolf? One more piece of the puzzle I would figure out. . .and I would. Soon.
I thought about putting the bleeding animal in my car, but I figured carrying him would be easier on his body. Besides, Main Street wasn’t that long—the vet had to be close. I pushed Hayden from my mind and focused on the wolf-dog.
“I’m going to call you Steve,” I told him. “I’ve always wanted to name an animal Steve. It’s just wrong in such a good way. You know?”
The dog moaned, either from pain or the fact I was naming him Steve.
“Oh please,” I cooed, gently stroking his snout, “it could be worse. I could have said Skippy or Bubba.”
I gingerly wedged my arms beneath him and tried to avoid any open wounds. Damn it if this wasn’t going to ruin my favorite Sock Monkey t-shirt. I was glad the street was deserted—I would have a hard time explaining how I was able to carry a hundred pound bloody dog-wolf with ease.
I’d find a vet and get him fixed up and I’d keep him. Yep, I’d keep him. The thought made me giddy. I didn’t think Carl, Janet or Myrtle would mind. If they did, screw ’em. I was keeping the dog-wolf. Steve needed me. Clearly he was a special dog-wolf if my own Angel of Death had come to get him. Forget Hayden. Save the dog.
Sweet Baby Satan, I hadn’t felt so happy in a while. I looked down at my new dog-wolf and I smiled. Bloody mess or not, he was mine. I just needed him to live.
“Do you know which way the vet is?” I asked my wonderful new pet named Steve.
Steve leaned his head to the left. I froze. “Did you just point to the left?” Was I losing it from loneliness and giving an animal human traits, or was my dog simply brilliant? I searched his pain-glazed eyes as he blankly stared back. A bizarre sense of sadness enveloped me. He didn’t understand me, but he’d definitely seen some bad things in his short life. I suppose I'd have to label myself lonely and losing it. Nonetheless, I was going to the left.
I wanted to move at Demon speed, but knowing it might freak out Steve I walked. Off we went, moving at a dreadfully slow human pace, looking left and right for an animal hospital.
Holding back on my instinct for speed was making me sweat, or maybe it was the hundred pound bleeding mound of fur I was carrying. Whatever—I didn’t like it. You didn’t sweat in Hell. Well not unless you were frying in the basement—or having sex. Damn it, forget Hayden. Save the dying dog.
Did this town even have a vet? Steve was so quiet in my arms I was beginning to panic. “Are you okay, sweetie?” I muttered, burying my chin in his fur.
He grunted softly, sighed and laid his big head on my shoulder. I wasn’t sure if it was his drool or his blood running down my back. Neither boded well. I needed help. Fast.
The sun bounced off something shiny about two blocks down. The glare was blinding. I took it as an omen and moved toward it. Picking up my pace a little bit, I moved as quickly as I thought was safe for my dog.
It wasn’t something shiny—it was someone shiny. It was Blanche. She had some explaining to do.
She was perched on a wooden bench of the lovely if not slightly over-manicured front lawn of Happy Hacienda Senior Citizens Home. She was deep in conversation with an old woman who was either dead or sound asleep. The old woman was slim and had obviously been a beauty in her youth. She was ethereal. Her eyes were closed and her lashes were so long they brushed her cheeks, her long tapered fingers were clasped at her chest and her feet were crossed at the ankle. The topper was they were encased in red sequined Uggs. This little old lady was rockin’ some style. However, the turquoise blue housecoat knocked her down a few notches. She had a serene look on her strangely unlined face. She must have some scary good genes. I doubted she’d look so relaxed if she knew a silver-skinned, blue-eyed Demon was spilling her life story right next to her. My dear invisible friend was talking a mile a minute. Clearly she was as lonely as I was.
“Blanche,” I called, catching her off guard. “What in the Hell are you doing? And where have you been? You can’t keep disappearing when I need you.”