Rosie Hughes -- Chapter 7 The TRAITOR

Okay, as you guys know, we've been doing a round-robin blog chain on The Rosie Hughes Project. Previous chapters include:

here are the paths.
Chapter 1 - C.T. Adams
Chapter 2 - Cathy Clamp (scroll down)
Chapter 3 - Brad Sinor
Chapter 4 - Sue Sinor
Chapter 5 - Rachel Caine
Chapter 6 - Jackie Kessler - http://www.jackiekessler.com/blog/2009/03/21/the-rosie-hughes-project-chapter-6-enter-the-slayer/

Chapter 7 -- The Traitor

I would’ve listened at the doorway, but I didn’t need to. Magenta’s shouts were clearly audible throughout the house. Almost as audible as Rosie’s ear-piercing (and glass shattering) shrieks.

An uncontrollable shudder wracked my body. Dear God, please let this work. I was so tired of pretending. But when I realized that. . . that. . . thing was using my beloved Suzi Q products to enslave . . . to eat my customers. . . . Well, I had to do something. Even if it meant giving up my job and my friends and pretend enthrallment to the very creature I hated.

So I worked. And I waited. Until the perfect opportunity arose. So simple. Just delete one word from a memo to manufacturing so it read:

"You absolutely must use purified garlic in the formula."

Perfect. It wouldn’t harm the humans. But the vampires . . . scores of them, more than any one person could slay . . . well, they’d be as dead as poor, poor Magenta of the ill temper and man bones.

It would have been perfect if only . . .

"PollyANNA!!!!!" A familiar shriek tore through the house, shattering crystal goblets and lesser glass.

Constanza rushed past, broom and dustpan in hand. Shuddering, I gathered my courage and made my way to the sitting room.

"Yes mistress?" I gave Rosie my very best empty smile—all shining white teeth. She blinked, eyes narrowing against the glare. "Have Constanza bring the Dyson in." She waved manicured nails at the mess on the settee, and the priceless rug lying scorched beneath it. "And we need to do an immediate product recall. Some idiot at corporate changed the formula. If I get my hands on them . . ."

I shuddered at the look on her face. I didn’t want to think what she’d do to them—or to me if she found out I was the traitor.

"Anyway, darling, I need you to take care of the details. A complete product recall. Oh, and while you’re at it, bring me some more sunblock for my personal use. It seems I may be having to go out during business hours to pay corporate a visit. And call the reupholsterers." She paused, tapping a nail against her perfect lips. "While you’re at it, order some new flamingos. The old ones are starting to look . . . tacky."

"Of course mistress." I scurried out of the room, presumably to do her bidding. In truth, I had to get out before she sensed my elation. If what happened to Magenta happened to even half of the vampires . . . But no. Celebration was premature. The worst of the monsters was not only perfectly healthy, she was angry, and more dangerous than ever.

Next installment from Cathy Clamp -- Wednesday.http://blogs.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=blog.ListAll&friendID=141026485