Fashionably Dead and Wed
Author: Robyn Peterman
Date: 2017-02-14 00:00:00+00:00
Description: I know I'm already mated.... I wanna get married. What do you get when you combine a three-headed monster named Charles; a rotund, gay, dancing Demon named Doug; a culinary disaster baked by Mother Nature; a celibate premarital councilor named Jeff; an offer from Satan that's impossible to refuse; and Steve Perry? You get the royal wedding from hell - or, to be more accurate, possibly in hell. All I want to do is marry the Vampyre of my dreams, with my closest friends and family in attendance. Yep, I know nuptials in the undead world are unheard of, but I'm still hanging on to my humanity if o
Publisher: Brilliance Audio

Table of Contents

Title Page

Edition License Notes

Praise for Fashionably Dead

Acknowledgements

Dedication

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Note From the Author

Excerpt: Nearly Departed In Deadwood

Excerpt: READY TO WERE

Chapter 1

Excerpt: SWITCHING HOUR

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Book Lists (in correct reading order)

About Robyn Peterman

Fashionably Dead and Wed

by

Robyn Peterman

Edition License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should delete it from your device and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author's work.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is coincidental.

This book contains content that may not be suitable for young readers 17 and under.

Copyright 2016 by Robyn Peterman

Cover by Rebecca Poole of dreams2media k12

Edited by Meg Weglarz

Praise for Fashionably Dead

Uproariously witty, deliciously provocative, and just plain fun! No one delivers side-splitting humor and mouth-watering sensuality like Robyn Peterman.

This is entertainment at its absolute finest!

~ Darynda Jones, NY Times Bestselling Author of the Charley Davidson Series

Acknowledgements

Writing books is the best job I’ve ever had. Sitting in my sweatpants, t-shirt, sparkly Uggs and no make-up totally works for me! However, as solitary as the writing process may be, putting a book out is a group effort. There are many important and wonderful people involved and I am blessed to have such a brilliant support system,

Rebecca Poole, your covers are perfect and your imagination delights me.

Thank you.

Meg Weglarz, you save me from myself constantly with your editing.

Thank you.

Donna McDonald, you are my partner in crime, one of my dearest friends and one hell of an author. I’d be in deep doodoo without you.

Thank you.

Donna McDonald and JM Madden, you are the best and most honest critique partners a gal could have. I don’t know what I would do without your eagle eyes and good taste.

Thank You.

My beta readers, Wanda, Melissa, Susan and Karen, you rock so hard.

Thank You.

And my family…thank you for believing in me and understanding deadlines and my need to discuss fictional characters as if they were real people. None of this would be any fun without your love and support.

And my readers…I do this for you.

Dedication

For Steve. I’d marry you over and over and over.

Chapter 1

“Explain to me again how this happened,” I hissed. I throat punched a viciously aggressive Demon gunning for my head—bloody mouth open and razor sharp claws extended. Killing things with teeth as long as my forearm was definitely not my idea of a good time, but when we’re talking Us or Them, it was simply a necessary evil.

“It was a shiny rock. How in the hell was I supposed to know it was a motherhumpin’ portal to Hell?” Martha wailed, slamming an impressive right hook into the jaw of one of the slimy bastards.

“I told her not to touch it,” Jane grunted. “But did she listen to me? No. She didn’t listen.”

We were three Vampyres against twenty Demons and it was only 10 am. This did not bode well for the rest of my day. Nor were the odds what I would have chosen, but it was what it was. The evil shits had shown up uninvited and quickly worn out their welcome.

Today had started so perfectly with a marathon of closet sex with Ethan, followed by a rousing game of Candy Land with our son Samuel and his pet baboon, Blobbityflonk. Now this… a normally beautiful, peaceful field of wild flowers and trees polluted with ugly, stinky, evil Demons from Hell who were definitely not supposed to be in Mossy Creek, Kentucky. If I had to hazard a guess, the bastards were from the worst part of Hell—otherwise known as the Basement. The fragrant spring breeze was filled with the acrid odors of burnt flesh and bad breath. Occasionally, the super duper gift of Vampyre smelling ability bit me in the ass—or gag reflex, to be more accurate.

“Just blast ‘em,” Jane shouted, taking two of the Demons into a chokehold and squeezing so hard they popped.

They burst like blood filled balloons and I choked back a dry heave. Not that I could throw up or anything helpful like that, Vampyres didn’t have that particular talent.

“I can’t. Too many Demons,” I ground out, as I smacked down on one who’d taken a chunk out of my leg. Damn it, the gaping hole would take at least an hour to grow back and possibly leave a scar. “We’re three miles from an elementary school filled with human children. The explosion would rock the entire town, you imbecile. This one is hand to hand.”

Time and time again I internally bitch slapped myself for having Martha and Jane turned in the first place. The two eighty-nine year old dumbasses had caused more trouble in the short time they’d been undead than our entire race had in centuries. My compassion continually reared up and smacked me right upside the head where they were concerned.

“After we’re done here, remind me to decapitate both of you,” I said. Then I back-flipped and scissor-kicked the noggin right off the Demon who’d made the grave mistake of thinking he could take me out.

“Will do,” Martha grunted, tossing knives and throwing stars around like they were beads at a Mardi Gras parade.

Her aim was appalling and I ducked before she accidentally nailed me.

“Holy shit on a sharp stick in the left eyeball,” Jane screeched as she removed a misfired dagger Martha had planted in her ass. “They’re running away.”

I shot back up from my crouched position and let out a furious curse. Sure enough, the remaining Demons fled across the field too fast for a human eye to detect—flaming dots of red fire mixed with the pink and purple flowers that were now wilted due to the sulfur from Hell blanketing the field like an ominous fog.

We’d killed twelve. That meant eight had escaped and were going to wreak havoc on Earth. Not good. Not good at all.

With a flick of my hand, I sealed the portal shut and let my head fall back on my shoulders. What to do now? Did I go after the bloodthirsty denizens of Hell? Or should I tie Martha and Jane into an undead human pretzel and throw them into the portal I’d just closed?

Decisions sucked.

“Um… Boobs McGee?” Martha asked quietly as she poked me in the arm. “Do you want us to go after the fuckers or go get some backup first?”

“I want you to have never opened the portal in the first place,” I snapped, ignoring the nickname. I’d long ago given up on reminding the two idiots that my name was Astrid.

I paced the open field in agitation and watched the Demons we’d killed turn to gooey dust before my eyes. These Demons were far worse than the last bunch that had gotten through the portals, and their visits were becoming more frequent. My Uncle Satan had some explaining to do.

Glancing over at Martha and Jane, I had to laugh. They were a hot mess and not just because they were covered in blood and had been fighting bad dudes from the Underworld. Nope. They’d taking up jogging and had the heinous outfits to prove it—teal booty shorts and yellow sequined jog bras coupled with black socks and expensive running shoes. The sparse tufts of grey hair on their heads were held back with headbands that would have made Richard Simmons proud. I was surprised they hadn’t scared the Demons back to Hell with their sportswear.

“Why the left eye?” I asked Jane. I pressed the bridge of my nose and reminded myself it would be wrong to blast their sorry flat asses into tomorrow.

“What the hell are you babbling about, Hooters McHootieland?” she asked, completely confused.

“Why the crap on a sharp stick in the left eye instead of the right one?” I asked again.

“Hell if I know,” Jane grumbled and shrugged her bony shoulders. “It’s just the way it is, Melons O’Chesty. Sun comes up in the morning. Sun goes down at night. George W. is better lookin’ than Jeb. Sharp sticks covered in poo go in the left eye.”

It was difficult to render me mute, but these two gals did it repeatedly.

“You really gonna rip our heads off?” Martha asked.

My chin dropped forward to my chest. They knew as well as I did that I wasn’t going to remove their heads. As much they deserved it, I would never do it. They’d been instrumental in saving my son’s life and for that, I would be eternally grateful—not that I really wanted to spend any quality time with them, or any time at all for that matter. They didn’t need my help with losing an appendage. At the rate the dingbats were going, they were going to get their heads torn off by someone else anyway.

“No, not today,” I told them as I approached them.

They held their ground warily and gave me pathetic smiles and waves. Holy Hell, it looked like Jane might have lost a few teeth in the melee. I stared hard at the ancient pains in my butt as they fidgeted like children and I tried to figure out what to do with them. Maybe if I just knocked their heads together really hard, I’d feel better. It wouldn’t kill them. As Vampyres, they were very hard to eliminate. And these two numbnuts had proved without a doubt that being undead and stupid made them even harder to kill.

“We’d be more than happy to go after the creepy flesh eating turd waffles,” Martha told me as she picked up the weapons she’d flung around.

“Nope,” I said. “You’re underqualified and I can’t risk that you wouldn’t open more portals along the way. You’re going back to the Cressida House and you’re not allowed off the property until I say so.”

“That’s a little harsh,” Jane muttered, helping her sister dig through the slimy ash to retrieve the weapons.

“No, it’s actually very nice,” I said so calmly they both blanched in terror. “The harsh part is that you will wear clothes that completely cover your bodies until further notice.”

“No booty shorts?” Martha asked as she paled considerably.

For a Vampyre that was difficult…

“Nope.”

“No mini skirts?” Jane inquired almost inaudibly.

“Nope.”

“I’m guessing thong bikinis are out as well,” Martha added sadly.

The thought of them in ass baring swimwear was therapy inducing. Their boobs hung to their belly buttons and their skin was all pickled and spotted. They were an anomaly in the blood-sucker world. Usually when someone was turned from human to Vampyre, their natural beauty was enhanced to the point of ridiculousness. Martha and Jane—not so much.

“Thong bikinis are against the law for eternity. You two will wear clothing that covers every inch of your bodies except for your wrinkly faces.”

“Sweet Jesus on a tractor with a farmer’s tan,” Martha cried out. “Are you trying to kill us?”

“Trust me, if I was trying to kill you, you’d know,” I replied with an eye roll, still considering the possibility. “This rule goes into effect as soon as we get back to the compound. Am I clear?”

“As mud,” Jane bitched.

“I have a question, Knockers McMilkbomb,” Martha said, raising her hand politely as if that would negate the fact she’d basically just called me a cow.

“Spit it out, old lady.”

“How did you know to come and find us?”

That was a fine question and one I couldn’t quite explain. I’d just felt that something was off and let my instincts guide me. I’d left ten shocked and snooty Vampyres mid-conversation in the formal parlor of our home. Apparently they were taking issue with the fact that Ethan and I were getting married when we were already mated. Ethan had seemed surprised at my abrupt departure, but he took my oddities in stride. He also knew I couldn’t stand Vampyre politics and tended to shove my foot in my mouth more often than not.

The old school Vamps couldn’t wrap their pea brains around my need for a human ceremony and had been very vocal with their displeasure. I’d explained as diplomatically as I could at a Formal Summit Council meeting for the Vampyre Who’s Who that they could shove it their up their non-breathing asses and skip our wedding. Needless to say, that went over like a lead balloon. As penance, I’d been writing apology notes to dead people all week.

“I’m not sure,” I told the gals truthfully. “I just knew something was wrong.”

“Well, um... thank you,” Martha mumbled.

“I’m sorry. What?” Had my super sonic hearing failed me? Had the nasty grizzled freak- show actually expressed gratitude? Had Hell frozen over?

“I’m not sayin’ it again,” Martha groused, trying unsuccessfully to hide her grin.

“But since she did say it, maybe you could reconsider the ban on booty shorts,” Jane chimed in hopefully as she wiped Demon goop off of her dagger and onto her unfortunate choice of clothing.

“Nope. You will be garbed completely. Period.

“We’re gonna look like fucking nuns,” Martha groused.

Now there was an idea…

***

“They can’t wear habits,” Ethan said as he scrubbed his hands over his gorgeous face and tried not to laugh.

“Why not?” I argued. “It’s a vast improvement over glittery boob tubes and hot pants.”

“While this is true, having them impersonate nuns is sacrilegious,” he explained logically, pacing his office.

“Are you serious?” I asked, carefully moving an ugly three-headed statue from the coffee table to a new home underneath a chair. I was certain the heinous thing cost more than the national debt, but I couldn’t look at it anymore.

“Yes. Plus, we have visitors from other parts of the territory due to the influx of Demons. I’d think profane followers of Christ might be a bit off-putting,” Ethan said, retrieving the statue, examining it with a wince and placing it right back under the massive leather chair.

“It’s ugly,” I commented with a grin.

“It is,” he agreed. “However, it’s a gift from Satan. If he visits, put it back.”

“Will do. Are you sure about the habits?”

“Quite,” he replied. “We’re not Catholic.”

“I can see where you’re going with this, but I still think it’s an awesome idea. It’s a twofold win. It would piss Uncle Satan off royally if he thought I had nuns in the house and was siding with Uncle God. And more importantly, we wouldn’t have to look at half-naked, insane, desiccated Vampyre boobs for the foreseeable future,” I explained with an evil little grin.

“Astrid, your devious mind never ceases to amaze me or turn me on,” Ethan said as he wrapped his arms around me and rested his chin on my head. “But I still think it’s a bad idea.”

“Fine, but it’s on you if Martha and Jane show up at a meeting in midriff bearing shirts and assless chaps.”

“I need brain bleach after that visual,” Ethan muttered with a groan as he reluctantly let me go and went back behind his desk. “You say eight Demons got away?”

I nodded and perched on the edge of his desk. “Yep. Ran north. How pissed off are the Vamps?”

“Pissed is too mild a word,” he said, sitting back and running his hands through his thick blond hair. “They’re blaming us because of our friendship with the Devil.”

“May I revise that statement?” I inquired.

“Be my guest.”

“I’m going out on a limb here and guessing they’re blaming me because the Devil is my Uncle,” I corrected my ever diplomatic mate in a voice laced with sarcasm.

“Me has become we, my love. We’re a team and we’re not in favor at the moment,” he replied easily.

I stared at the man I loved to the point of it being unhealthy and wished I could take the weight of the world from his broad shoulders. It wasn’t easy being mated to me. I was a True Immortal—one of ten—and I was related to everyone from Satan to Mother Nature.

“Okay,” I said as I walked around the desk and seated myself on his lap. “I understand being upset about the Demons—hell, I’m furious about that. And I know they think our upcoming wedding is a farce. Is there anything else I should be aware of?”

“The division of wealth you instituted is raising a few problems.”

Leaning forward, I let my head drop to the cool wood of Ethan’s desk. I couldn’t win for losing in this new and deadly world.

“Look, I’m the first one to admit I’m somewhat materialistic,” I said and then realized I was bouncing up and down on my mate’s lap due to his laughter. “Swallow that,” I warned. “I’m not through here yet.”

“Will do,” he said, trying valiantly to put a neutral expression on his face.

He failed.

“Fine,” I huffed. “I’m a Prada whore with a shoe problem, but the amount of money the undead have amassed over the centuries is ridiculous. We don’t pay taxes because we don’t really exist on any kind of government roster and we live in this world just like everyone else—albeit a bit longer. We owe something to society. Period.”

“I agree with you,” Ethan said, smacking out the small fire my sparking fingers accidentally set on his desk during my passionate diatribe. “However, it’s going to take our people a little time to get comfortable with this new policy.”

“How much time?” I asked as I curled myself into a ball on his lap.

“Time is somewhat irrelevant to us since our lifespan is so long. If I had to guess, I’d say fifty to a hundred years to get everyone on board.”

“I call bullshit on that. What if we just held a big party and let me beat the crap out of everybody? If I win, they pay.”

“And if you lose?” he asked with raised brows.

“I never lose,” I shot back with a cocky grin. “So, do I get to kick some uptight ̓n greedy Vampyre ass?”

“We’ll see,” Ethan said. “However, I can think of far better things for you to do with your time.”

“I bet you can.” I pressed my lips to his and felt desire course through my blood.

He deepened the kiss until my toes curled with delight and then pulled back with effort. “Gareth is due in a few minutes,” he said gruffly. His golden eyes had turned green with desire, as had mine. “As much as I’d like to continue this session and take it to its natural conclusion, we’ll have to get back to it this evening. If Gareth catches a glimpse of your naked body, I’d have to kill him. That would be unfortunate as he’s my brother. I say let’s deal with the Demons first and then tackle the rest later.”

“Maybe we should postpone the wedding.” Speaking the words aloud depressed me. I was looking forward to it with all of my undead heart. “It seems like a risk at this point.”

“Our sheer existence is a calculated risk, Astrid. Dealing with Demons is nothing new. Placating disgruntled Vampyres and dismembering violent ones is what I’ve done for several hundred years. I’ll be damned if I’ll let a few idiots halt our nuptials.”

“I love when you say that,” I giggled.

“Say what?”

“Nuptials. It’s so formal.”

“I’m older,” he said as he picked me up like I weighed nothing and sat me on his desk.

“Than dirt,” I added with a laugh.

“Yes, well some might call me a cradle robber, but I call myself the luckiest man in the world.”

His grin made me horny and his words made me melt.

Our age difference was astronomical, but it rarely occurred to me unless someone brought it up. Ethan had been waiting for me for hundreds of years and fought hard to make me his. We were possessive, jealous, wildly attracted to each other and would have a very hard time surviving if something happened to the other—not to mention the sex was off the charts. It was all kinds of perfect and I loved him to the point of distraction.

“I suppose the best and most unfortunate route to go is to take a meeting with Satan.” I shook my head and shuddered. “I was hoping to avoid him for a while.”

“I’ll deal with the pissed of Vampyres and you deal with your Uncle,” Ethan said. “We get rid of the Demons. We make the tight fisted Vampyres pay their share. And we tie the knot. Win, win, win.”

“It’s not going to be that easy,” I said, tracing his lips with my finger.

“Nothing worth it is.”

His lopsided grin made me want to jump him, but I wasn’t in the mood to be responsible for Gareth’s death—I liked Ethan’s brother. Not to mention the deaths of whomever else was meeting with the Prince of the North American Dominion today. My mate was one of the most important and powerful Vampyres in the world.

And I wasn’t too shabby myself.

Chapter 2

“I’m really not following how this is my fault,” Satan said as he made himself far too comfortable behind Ethan’s desk. “Where did you get this desk? It’s fabulous. I’ll have to procure one while I’m in town.”

“You mean steal?” I asked, very aware that my dear Uncle was avoiding the main subject at hand.

“Semantics, my darling niece. How are the wedding plans coming along?”

I’d decided to take the meeting with my uncle in my mate’s office. I’d kicked Gareth and Ethan out and summoned the Devil. There was far less of a chance of the visiting Vampyres spotting Satan on the premises if we were locked away. Satan had seemed a bit miffed that we weren’t in the massive ballroom or at the very least, the parlor, but he was rolling with the lack of formality.

“Fine,” I answered warily. I refused to discuss my big day with him.

I’d inadvertently discovered Satan had planned to kidnap his hero aka stalking victim, Steve Perry of Journey fame to sing at my wedding. Since then, the subject of my nuptials was off-limits. Poor Steve Perry had been through enough. My cousins, the Seven Deadly Sins, had recently abducted Mr. Perry as a Christmas present for my uncle. That had been a clusterfuck, well, except for the fact that Steve was now one of my closest friends. He did not deserve to be taken hostage by lunatics twice in the span of a single year.

“I know you’re displeased with me.” Satan pouted as he rearranged everything on Ethan’s desk. “But my feelings are hurt that you’re leaving me out.”

“You don’t have feelings. You’re the Devil,” I muttered. I removed the Super Hero decoupage cup from his hands before he could pocket it. It was a present from Samuel for Ethan. The Devil could get his own damned pencil cup.

“Touché,” he said with an evil little smirk and put a stapler in his pocket.

If I were capable of sighing, the mother of all sighs would have left my lips. Dealing with the Devil was very similar to dealing with my toddler son. If I turned my back, something usually went horribly wrong.

“The Demons,” I said flatly, getting my flighty, sticky-fingered uncle back on track. “They’re coming through portals an alarming rate. What’s going on?”

“How am I supposed to know?” he replied with a casual shrug. “Hell is large. Demons are crafty.”

“You’re supposed to be in charge,” I snapped.

“And you, my dear, are supposed to be in charge of the Vampyres. From what I hear, there are rumblings from the undead peanut gallery about your new laws.”

He certainly had me there.

While I pondered how to reply to that one without digging a deeper hole to bury myself in, Satan came up with a plan.

A horrible plan.

A horrible, crappy, shitty plan.

“How about this?” he suggested, looking more beautifully evil than usual.

My stomached dropped as I silently waited to hear his latest nefarious proposal.

“Why don’t we have your wedding in Hell and I can have my people check out what’s going on with the portals?”

“Interesting,” I replied with a barely concealed groan. “And why don’t I just hop on over to Purgatory, get the Sword of Death and chop off my own head?”

“That’s a bit extreme,” Satan said with raised brows as he pilfered a few of Ethan’s Mont Blanc pens.

“And having my wedding in the Underworld isn’t?” I demanded, stomping over to the scariest man alive and removing the pens and stapler from his pockets. “Vamps can’t even be in Hell for more than a day or so. I’m fairly certain Uncle God and Cousin Jesus won’t set foot in Hades anymore and I wasn’t planning on even inviting the Seven Deadly Sins. And that’s only the tip of the iceberg of reasons why that’s the shittiest idea I’ve ever heard.”

“Is it your time of the month?” Satan asked giving me a sad face.

“I’m a fucking Vampyre,” I shouted. Black glitter covered my arms and my fingers sparked dangerously. I was seconds away from burning a nice big hole in my uncle’s very expensive, custom Armani suit. “I don’t have a time of the month. Furthermore, a man should never ask a woman that question unless he’s ready to die violently. Only women can ask each other that appalling question.”

“Well, you are half Demon. I just thought…”

“Don’t think,” I hissed. “It never turns out well.”

“Astrid, Astrid, Astrid,” he said silkily. A smile lit his eyes and turned them a glittering red. “You’re such a spicy one. It delights me to no end to see you’ve inherited some of my traits.”

“The spicy part is from me,” a disembodied voice cut in, scaring the crap out of me and eliciting a surprisingly shrill, girly scream from the Devil.

“Damn it, Mother. What have I told you about speaking without your body arriving first?” Satan bellowed in a far deeper voice than usual in an attempt to negate the high pitched squeal he’d just produced.

“I do believe you threatened to smite my ass,” Mother Nature, aka my grandmother Gigi, said with a giggle. “I’d love to see you try.”

Her arrival was grand and destructive, as was everything she did. A few flowering trees blasted up out of the hardwood floor and tore through the center of a priceless Persian rug. A colorful flock of teal and magenta birds floated around her head and a small shimmering rainbow popped up near the floor-to-ceiling bookcases. Her gown was a riot of gossamer color that matched her feathered friends. Her red hair was piled fashionably on her head framing a face that would make Angels weep. She was otherworldly beautiful. She knew it and she loved it.

I glanced around the room and shut my eyes. Ethan was going to have a fit and I didn’t blame him. However, it was business as usual with my extended family. Either something exploded or we gained an indoor jungle. If I had to choose, I’d take the wildlife sanctuary hands down.

“Astrid, my sweetheart,” Gigi purred, air kissing my cheeks. “I understand you’re going to get married in Hell.”

I shot a glare at Satan which would have made anyone with a lick of sense duck for cover. He just grinned.

“You understood wrong, Gigi,” I corrected her.

“Well, thank goodness for that,” she huffed and gave her son a victorious raised brow. “We shall have the wedding in Nirvana. I throw a wonderful party and I have a petting zoo.”

And the day got worse. Gigi was prone to fits that brought down cities when she didn’t get her way.

“Actually,” I said calmly, even though my insides danced wildly. “I was thinking we would have the wedding here—at the Cressida House.”

“But it’s so common to get married on Earth.” Mother Nature pouted as she examined the treasures on Ethan’s desk with interest. “You’re a True Immortal and Ethan’s a Prince. You simply can’t get married here. What would everyone think?”

“Honestly, I don’t give a rat’s ass what anyone thinks,” I said as I watched her eye a tape dispenser and covertly slip it into her Chanel purse. “And who in the Hell is everyone?”

“Oh, you know, all the Angels and Saints,” she said, pilfering a tray of paperclips.

“The Demons, Fairies, Vampyres, Trolls, and Gnomes,” Satan added and pocketed a jewel handled letter opener not to be outdone by his mother.

“And don’t forget about the Shifters and Unicorns,” Mother Nature reminded us as she moved on from the desk and over to the bookshelves to see if anything struck her fancy.

“Shut the fuck up!” I shouted, while silently vowing to buy Ethan new office supplies to offset the ransacking of his office by my relatives. “No one ever told me Unicorns existed.”

“Of course they do,” Mother Nature stated. “Very rare. Steve Perry is a Unicorn. And let me just suggest not extending an invitation to the Trolls or the Gnomes. They’re horrid guests and violent even by my standards.”

Well, that was certainly saying something.

“I had no intention of inviting anyone like that. I was planning on a family and close friends only wedding.”

I sat on my hands so I didn’t zap them through the roof for helping themselves to my mate’s belongings. The silence was alarming. However, the expressions on their faces almost made me laugh.

“Darling,” Mother Nature said, beginning to glow dangerously. “That simply won’t do. I have at least two thousand I was planning on inviting.”

“Two thousand what?” I asked. My entire body tingled in dread.

“People, darling,” she assured me. “Well, most of them are.”

“I have three thousand,” Satan bragged, clearly pleased to have more friends or more hostages than his mother. “The Cressida House is far too small, puny, and inconsequential to hold the guest list.”

“Okay, let’s get a few things straight here,” I snapped as I felt my hair begin to blow wildly around my head—never a good sign. “I am not having tens of thousands of freaks at my wedding. I have no desire to be the catalyst for the next war between the races. That would be an immortal shitshow.”

“She does have a point,” Mother Nature said to her son.

“I think it would be fabulous,” Satan replied.

“You would.” I pulled on my hair and wondered how I’d gotten so lucky as to have the craziest, most powerful, nut jobs in existence for my family. “But it’s not happening. I’d considered a destination wedding, but the logistics were heinous. The wedding will be here.”

“Suit yourself,” Mother Nature said with an angry shrug that caused a slight tremor in the room. “But you’ll be sorry.”

With that, my unstable, pole-dancing grandmother left the building in a spray of sparkling peach and gold glitter. However, she left the trees and birds behind.

“It’s never good to screw with Mother Nature,” Satan warned with an enormous smile on his devastatingly handsome face.

“It’s fool Mother Nature, fool,” I corrected him, flopping down in a chair and letting my head fall to my hands. Maybe getting married was stupid. Ethan and I were already mated, which in our world was the equivalent and far more biding than the human ritual.

“Yes, well, screwing with is far more detrimental,” Satan replied as he opened the top drawer of the desk and procured a few more items.

“What is it with you people and office supplies?” I demanded, watching him load his pockets.

“I’m not exactly sure,” the Devil said thoughtfully. He eyed the Mont Blanc pens lovingly and re-pocketed them. “I used to be obsessed with craft supplies. And then it was home improvement paraphernalia. Now I like the occasional stapler.”

His statement was so weird I had nothing to add. The thought of the Devil in the scrap- booking aisle of my local craft store was absurd.

“Let’s get back on track here,” I said, deciding to ignore the fact he’d just put printer cartridges into his briefcase and that one of Gigi’s birds had just pooped on the leather couch. “Will you do anything about the portals and the Demons coming through?”

Satan feigned deep thought for a moment and then a slow stomach-churning grin pulled at his lips.

“Will you consider my offer to have the wedding in Hell?” he countered.

It wasn’t really a question at all. It was a bargaining chip—blackmail. I knew it and he knew it. He was a son of a bitch, but what should I have expected from the Prince of Darkness?

After a long moment where I considered the pros and cons of tying the knot in the Land of Evil, I nodded my head. The Demon problem far outweighed my need for a human ceremony. The Vampyres were up our asses about the Demons—not to mention the Demons were dangerous to humans. If I could solve those problems, I could move on to the next one—getting the stingy, miserly Vampyres to pay their share to society.

Nothing on my list was appealing, but it all had to be done. Just a day in the life of a newbie Vampyre with far too much power.

“I’ll consider it,” I said slowly and prayed my smile didn’t look like I’d swallowed a lemon.

“Excellent,” Satan said. “Let me know when you arrive at a decision and I’ll get right on the portal leaking issue.”

Wait one damn minute…

“Did you open those portals on purpose?” My eyes narrowed and my hands began shooting sparks. I didn’t care who he was, he was about to get a massive ass burn.

“Of course not,” he said with so much indignation I was inclined to believe him. “I may be evil, but I’m not stupid. Till we meet again.”

In a blast of black sparkling magic, Satan left. Of course he didn’t leave empty handed. Nope, he’d absconded with half of the contents of Ethan’s desk and left me with a stupendously ugly deal on the table.

Ethan was going to blow.

Maybe I’d wait to put the suggestion out there tonight… in bed… when I was straddling him.

Chapter 3

“It wouldn’t be my first choice of venue, but if it will stop the onset of Armageddon you might want to consider the offer,” Gemma said as she modeled her maid of honor dress.

She looked exquisite, but I couldn’t enjoy the moment of watching my best friend, and soon to be Queen of the Fairies, try on the gorgeous Marchesa dress I’d chosen for her. My priorities were screwed.

“It’s not an offer,” I said morosely, as I flopped down on my bed and stared at the ceiling. “It’s a fucking command performance.”

“It could be worse, Astrid,” she reasoned with a giggle.

“Tell me what’s worse than getting married in Hell?” I challenged.

“Having your Uncle Satan preside over the wedding?” she suggested.

“Shit,” I muttered. I grabbed a pillow and tried to suffocate myself with it. Of course this was impossible since I was already dead. Being a Vampyre came with a few disadvantages. The inability to put yourself out of your own misery was one of them. “I have to tell him no, but I need him to close the portals. Wait, what the hell am I thinking? I know how to close the portals—I’m just not quite sure where they all are. Fuck it. I’ll whip up some magic voodoo and shut the damn things myself. I don’t need him—I’m definitely going to tell Satan no about letting him host the wedding.”

“Let me know when you’re going to do that,” my BFF Gemma said.

“Why? Do you want to be there?” I asked, peeking out from behind the goose down.

“Nope,” she said with a shudder. “I plan on going to another realm during that conversation.”

“Thank you for the moral support.” I threw the pillow at her head. “Your overwhelming confidence in me being able to make a deal with the Devil is heartwarming.”

“Dude, you don’t have a heart.”

“Now that’s just rude,” I snapped. However she was correct. Technically I had one, but it didn’t beat and I don’t breathe.

“Look,” Gemma said as she got on the massive bed and shoved me over. “You just have to reason with him.”

“He’s the Devil. Don’t think reasoning will work.”

“Fine. Blackmail him. Do you still have the recording of him singing Journey songs in his sleep?” she asked with a wince.

“Oh my Uncle God, I do.”

During a horrendous sleepover on Christmas Eve, I’d recorded my Uncle Satan singing in his sleep. He’d decimated most of Journey’s Greatest Hits in the key of Z minor. It was all kinds of ear-bleeding awful and it would be all kinds of awesome to use it to my advantage.

“You know he wouldn’t hesitate to blackmail you if he wanted something badly enough. Case in point, forcing you to spend the biggest day of your life in Hell,” Gemma reasoned.

“This is true.” A smile pulled at my lips as I imagined the look of horror on Satan’s face when he heard himself singing. “But it’s kind of mean and could backfire in a big bad way.”

“It is, and it could,” she agreed with a thoughtful nod. “Maybe you should just go with the flow. Let him close the portals… getting married in Hell might not be that bad.”

The glare I gave her simply made her laugh. I was losing my touch. “It’s not funny. Shall I define not that bad for you?”

“Please do,” Gemma said as she sat up and pulled her knees to her chest trying unsuccessfully to bite back her smile.

I wanted to wipe the grin off of her lovely face and the gritty details of my nuptials in Hell would certainly do it.

“Well,” I said, as I piled the pillows into a small mountain and got comfortable. “Mother Nature has two thousand on her guest list and Satan has three thousand. At Christmas, Gigi offered to cater the affair. That alone is enough to cut the RSVP list of immortal whack jobs down to about twenty-five hundred attendees who will most likely die of food poisoning. That will be one stinky health hazard. On top of that, there’s no doubt that Mother Nature will pole dance since Satan has stripper poles all over the Dark Palace. I’m fairly sure my Uncle still has plans to abduct Steve Perry again, who by the way, is a Unicorn and I’m gonna guess that the dress code will be all black.”

“Dude.” Gemma shook her head and looked appropriately horrified. “Wait. Steve Perry is a Unicorn? An honest to God Unicorn?”

“Apparently. It’s certainly sheds some light as to why he wasn’t so freaked out on Christmas morning when the Sins had him bound and gagged under the tree for Satan.”

“You have to blackmail your uncle,” Gemma announced with fierce determination. “And I can’t believe Steve Perry is a freakin’ Unicorn.”

“Right? But if you really think about it, it makes sense in a farked up way. I mean his hair does kind look like a mane,” I pointed out.

“Good use of the word farked,” Gemma congratulated me.

“Thank you,” I said, accepting her praise. I’d been trying to curb my potty mouth since my son was a repeater.

“But when I think of a Unicorn I picture My Little Pony—you know, all rainbow-y and weird—kind of scary like a clown. Clowns totally skeeve me out.” Gemma shuddered.

“Clowns are fucking petrifying,” I agreed. “But I picture the all white Unicorn from that movie Legend with Tom Cruise. But that wouldn’t be right for Steve. I’d think he would be all black with maybe a red mane and a purple horn.”

“No, I think he’d be chocolate brown with a multicolored mane and a silver horn that lights up like a rock concert,” Gemma mused aloud.

We both let that visual sink in for a moment.

“Do you realize that if normal people could hear us right now, we’d be institutionalized?” I asked with a giggle.

“Dude, not a day goes by that I don’t wonder the same thing.” Gemma blew out a long sigh and flopped back on the bed. “We’re the weirdos.”

“Agreed. Think about it, we make clowns look safe for children. I’m dead and you’re a Fairy. We can both fly, my uncle is Beelzebub, and I’m basically unkillable. Normal left the train station a long fucking time ago.”

“Clowns are supposed to be safe for children,” she countered.

“That’s a total conspiracy and I call bullshit on that. I’ve had nightmares about clowns my entire life.”

“Word,” Gemma agreed with a shudder.

Both of our lives had changed dramatically in the past year. I’d tried to quit smoking and ended up undead and she found out she was the long awaited reincarnation of the Fairy Queen. Creepy clowns had nothing on us.

Of course, I’d met the love of my undead life and had a child against all odds since my plumbing didn’t exactly work anymore. Fortunately, I was the Chosen One and it was all part of the prophecy. My son, Samuel, was the light of my world and I wouldn’t go back to my old life for all the money of the greedy Vampyres combined—even though not being able to eat food was a bitch.

“So what are you going to do, Astrid?” Gemma asked softly as she played with my hair.

“Honestly, I have no clue. I want to talk to Ethan about it and I have to go online and order more office supplies. Then I’m going to play with my baby and make sure Martha and Jane are obeying the new dress code. Venus is going to try on her bridesmaid dress later as well. After that, I plan to sit in on some of the meetings with the irate Vamps… and then I’m going to get laid.”

“I followed most of that,” Gemma said with a laugh. “Except for the office supply thing.”

“Don’t ask. It’s stranger than Steve Perry being a Unicorn.”

“Gotcha,” she said as she rolled off my bed and changed back into her regular clothes. “I’m meeting The Kev for lunch. We’re starting to make plans to go back to Xanthia for my coronation. Apparently there are some problems brewing.”

“Are you ready for that?” I asked, hanging the beautiful pale pink bridesmaid dress back on the silk hanger.

“Nope,” she said with a grin. “Being ready and having to actually do something doesn’t always occur at the same time. However, I was very clear that I wasn’t going anywhere until after your wedding. Just promise me one thing.”

“Anything,” I told her and meant it. Gemma was the closest thing I had to a sister. My real sister, Juliette—the Vampyre from Hell—didn’t count. I’d only known about her for a short time and she was batshit cray-cray. She’d tried to kill me more times in the space of a year than I could count on two hands. Blood was not thicker than water in our case.

“Don’t elope,” Gemma said. “I’ve been waiting for this day for one of us since we were kids. You have to promise that you’ll do it no matter where it takes place and no matter how many freaks of nature are invited.”

In that moment, I realized Gemma and I were hanging onto our former human lives and the rope we dangled from was getting very frayed. We weren’t human any more and never would be again. I understood her desire for one last hurrah—I needed it as much as she did. Amidst the whirlwind of change our lives had become, something familiar was worth fighting for, even if no one understood it except us.

“I promise. I can’t guarantee that it will be what we dreamt of as children with all the dead people, the pole dancing, and the Unicorns,” I said with a grunt of laughter. “But it will definitely be happening.”

“Just don’t invite any clowns,” she said, seriously.

“You have my word,” I answered just as gravely.

“I love you, Astrid.”

“Love you more, Gemma.”

***

“So that’s the shitty plan Satan proposed,” I said, picking up Samuel’s toys and putting them back in the toy box. Thankfully Samuel was napping, he didn’t need to hear this conversation.

“Absolutely not,” Ethan growled as he followed behind me and picked up the stuffed animals and trucks I’d missed. “We will not be married in Hell. Demons don’t even believe in marriage. It’s ludicrous.”

“While I agree with you, I’d just like to point out that Vampyres don’t believe in the institution either,” Gareth chimed in from the couch in the grand living room of our suite.

Glancing over at Ethan’s brother Gareth, I held back the need to wrap him in a blanket and offer up a vein. He was a shell of his former self and it broke my non-beating heart. He looked at least forty-five and we stopped aging around thirty. His jet-black hair was laced with grey. His blue eyes were dull with world-weariness and his face was gaunt.

At one point he’d stood at least six foot four, but now appeared to have shrunk. Gareth was still a beautiful man, but he’d been cursed by the notorious Vlad the Impaler, with the help of some particularly heinous Angels. Gareth was aging and dying. We’d found him locked in the Catacombs under Paris and moved him to our compound in Kentucky.

There were two ways to save him. We either needed to find Vlad and the Angels and reverse the curse, or Gareth needed to find his true mate before he aged to the point of actual, natural-causes type death. Being that he’d always had a very active reputation with the ladies, finding his mate was a long shot.

Even if she was out there, she’d probably avoid Gareth like the plague. He was a manwhore to the nth degree. So a contingency of Vamps from every Dominion in the world were searching for Vlad. Ethan and his nine siblings each held a territory and everyone had sent their best to unearth the vicious Dracula—a name Vlad despised. Time was of the essence since three other royal siblings—Laila, Alexander and Nathan had been cursed as well, but both Ethan and Gareth were certain Vlad would be found.

Gareth was the Vampyre Prince of the Asian Dominion of the world, but in his absence the territory was being ruled by their sister Raquel and her mate Heathcliff, who also happened to be my cousin. Thankfully the region was peaceful at the moment, but if the Demon issue spread it would be a problem.

Hence, the Devil’s deal…

“Don’t believe I was talking to you,” Ethan commented evenly to his brother.

“That’s never stopped me before,” Gareth shot back with a grin so reminiscent of Ethan’s I had to laugh. “Are we sure Satan didn’t open the portals as leverage to blackmail you into having the wedding in Hell?”

“Fine point. Well made, and no, I’m positive he’s not behind it,” I said as I took a seat next to Gareth. “But he could definitely put an end to it.”

“Then tie the knot in Hell,” he suggested with a wink. “It will certainly make for a good story.”

“It will be a farce and don’t wink at my mate,” Ethan snapped in annoyance. “We can close the portals ourselves. We don’t need the Devil to do it.”

“I beg to differ, sire,” Venus said as she entered the suite.

The mood in the room changed abruptly. There was an edge to Venus that always brought a bit of danger to the party. I adored that about her and was curious to hear what she had to say.

My dear friend had gorgeous skin as black as night and was as beautiful and deadly as they came. She’d been my first ally after I was turned and our friendship had deepened since. She would die for me and I would return the favor any day of the week.

“Speak,” Ethan said tersely.

“There are too many portals and we don’t know who’s opening them. We could close every portal in the North American Territory and they could be reopened within the hour,” she replied in frustration, running her hands through her wild curly hair.

“Hello, darling,” Gareth said to Venus in a voice rich with sexual undertone.

Venus raised a delicate eyebrow, gave him a look that would have withered a mere mortal and then ignored him completely.

Interesting… and I wished I had time to question Venus about it.

“So you’re in agreement with Gareth that we should be married in Hell and let the bastard blackmail us?” Ethan asked. He sat down in an armchair and crossed his arms over his broad chest.

“First of all, my liege, I’m not with Gareth on anything. Secondly, I would never assume to tell you what to do. I have far too much respect for you and Astrid to be so presumptuous. However, I do believe we need Satan’s help with the portals,” Venus replied.

“I think Venus looks tremendously sexy in those pants,” Gareth announced to room. “The way they hug her delectable ass is sinful. She could knock the Demons right back to Hell with that edible bottom.”

She turned on him so fast, I literally got blown across the room—even Ethan ducked. Her eyes blazed and her hiss was positively feral. Gareth grinned like an idiot—an idiot with a death wish.

“I think you might have spoken,” Venus ground out as she approached the delighted Gareth. “But I couldn’t make it out because it was so insultingly condescending, sexist, and stupid.”

“I said…” he started.

“My brother said nothing that pertains to the business at hand,” Ethan cut him off and shot the unrepentant Gareth a glare that would have made a lesser man cower. However, Gareth was not a lesser man. He had the same physical strength and power as his brother—but equal in the common sense department? Definitely not.

“Okay,” I said putting my hands up in the air making it clear it was my turn to speak before a bloodbath ensued. “Gareth, Venus will put you out of your misery long before we find Vlad if you don’t shut your cakehole. Venus, you’re a big girl and you need to ignore the oversexed imbecile on the couch unless he has something constructive to add that doesn’t include one of your body parts in the sentence.”

I paused to make sure my posse was following.

“Ethan, I think Venus is right. It chaps my ass to admit it, but we need Satan. We need to stop the stream of Demons coming in and we need to get the tight ass Vamps off of our case for a day or two.”

“I don’t want to owe the bastard anything,” Ethan stated firmly.

“Neither do I. I suppose if I have to, I’ll let him enhance a few more of my Christmas decorations next December,” I said morosely. “That should make him happy.

My Uncle had destroyed most of my ornaments due to his ornery nature and jealousy over the fact the world celebrated my Cousin Jesus’s birthday and not his.

“Oh, and Venus once we’re done figuring out how to save the world, I need you to try on your bridesmaid gown,” I added.

Venus gave me a nod and Gareth the middle finger, which seemed to thrill him to no end. I was going to have to keep them separated if I wanted both of them to be alive for the wedding.

“Fine,” Ethan said tightly. “Have Satan come back this evening. We’ll come to a consensus.”

“You mean you’ll compromise,” Gareth corrected him.

“Why compromise?” I asked not comprehending the difference.

“In a consensus there are two winners,” Gareth said with a shrug. “In a compromise, one person wins and the other loses. You are about to compromise.”

Gareth’s British accent mixed with a touch of Russian made everything he said sound correct, but in this case my brother-in-law was wrong.

“Nope. Satan might get to host the wedding, but we stem the flow of Demons and shut the angry Vampyres up. I say it looks a tie weighted heavier on our side,” I countered.

“Looks can be deceiving,” Gareth warned as he stood and gave us a cocky salute. “Trust me on that.”

“I wouldn’t trust you as far I as could throw you,” Venus muttered quietly.

Gareth crossed the room with inhuman speed and stood toe-to-toe with Venus. He might be aging, but there was no denying how insanely powerful the Vampyre was.

“Then you’d be a fool, my beautiful Venus. I didn’t take you for a fool,” he said so softly I had to lean in to hear.

I wasn’t sure if she was going to take his head off or if he was going to remove hers. I’d give them both a fifty-fifty chance.

“Enough. I do not need my brother and one of my top generals killing each other. Cease the nonsense or I shall do it for you. You two will get along. Am I clear?” Ethan stated in a tone that should have ended the stand off.

“I can get along with people I don’t like,” Venus promised with a bow of respect to Ethan.

“Thin line between love and hate, pretty girl,” Gareth commented mildly.

“I don’t hate you. You mean nothing to me. You’re a sexist pig—nothing more, nothing less,” she shot back with a shrug and a smirk.

Gareth’s grin spread slowly across his face and he looked ungodly beautiful.

“I think she likes me,” he said as he crossed the room and walked out the door.

Venus’s grunt of fury simply made the exiting Vampyre laugh. We were in for a long haul. Ethan ran his hands through his hair and bit back his own laugh. It took everything I had not to tease Venus. She was about to blow and we still had to remove the jungle from Ethan’s office. I didn’t want to have to remodel our suite as well.

I had a sneaking suspicion Venus wasn’t quite as indifferent to Gareth as she said, but he was going to lose his head if he didn’t back off a bit. A furious Venus was a very dangerous Venus. But Gareth was a big boy. He could fight his battles all by himself.

We had our own battles to worry about at the moment.

Chapter 4

“Dude, did you know that Steve Perry is a Unicorn?”

“Shut the Hell up. I didn’t think they were alive anymore.” Venus turned around so I could zip her into her gown.

I squealed with excitement when she turned to face me. Venus looked equally as gorgeous as Gemma. Now I just had to see the dress on my cousin Dixie, Paris Hilton, Raquel and Pam. I had the best damn taste in the world and Satan could kiss my ass if he tried to make the dress code all black.

“Yep, Steve Perry’s a motherhumpin’ horn sprouting Unicorn. I can’t believe they’re real at all,” I muttered as I continued to admire how beautiful my friend looked.

“Um, Astrid… we’re dead and I’m trying on a bridesmaid gown for a wedding that’s going to take place in Hell. Why are Unicorns so unbelievable?”

“And the point goes to Venus.” I giggled and punched her arm. “I still think Unicorns are weird.”

“I heard they died out a long time ago—killed for their horns. Supposedly the horn could make a human immortal.”

“How in Uncle God’s name can a horn make someone immortal?” I asked. I fluffed the tulle skirt and made sure the length was correct with the fabu blush colored Jimmy Choo stilettos I’d bought for my girls.

“It was thousands of years ago when humans still believed in magic. They would kill the Unicorn as a sacrifice, tear off the horn, and then grind it to powder and eat it.”

“Um, gross. Did it work?” I swallowed back a gag and turned her to adjust the neckline.

“No clue.” She slapped my hand away with a smirk and pulled the material lower to display her enormously attractive cleavage. “Better?”

“Much,” I agreed with an eye roll and a laugh. “I’d dare say Gareth will approve.”

“Gareth can kiss my ass,” she hissed.

“I’m sure he’d be happy to,” I shot back with a grin. “What’s going on there?”

“Nothing is going on there,” she snapped. “He’s a disgusting jerk who can’t keep his pecker in his pants. I’m truly sorry that he’s dying, but he rubs me wrong. Most of the time I want to decapitate him.”

“That probably wouldn’t go over too well,” I said, helping her out of the dress.

Her giggle made me laugh. Venus was serious so much of the time. Her life had not been easy. She’d spent her human years as a slave on a plantation. Her family was killed by the slave owner. After she was turned, she went back and took her own vengeance. Venus was a vicious fighter, but compassionate and loyal as well. Her story broke my heart, but the simple fact that she could still find joy in life humbled me.

“I promise not to kill the idiot Prince of the Asian Dominion. However, if he makes another comment about my ass, he won’t be able to sit on his for a very long while.”

“Sounds pretty fucking fair to me,” I told her.

“So have you decided on a date for the wedding?” Venus asked as she slid a few daggers into her boot and strapped on her sword.

“The sooner the better. Everything is kind of ready. We just need to set it all in motion with Satan,” I said, trying really hard to be positive about the fact I was getting married in Hell. “Everyone thinks it’s a joke anyway. If we can stop the flood of Demons coming in by partying down-under then I suppose it’s a win-win.”

I shoved the dress back in my enormous closet and slammed the door so hard it came right off the hinges.

“Fuck,” I mumbled as I held the door in my hands and attempted to suck back my tears.

“Oh Astrid.” Venus took the door from my shaking hands, propped it against the wall and wrapped her arms around me. “I don’t think your wedding is a joke at all,” she whispered. “I think it’s beautiful and I’m proud and honored to stand up for you. You, Ethan and baby Samuel mean the world to me.”

And the floodgates opened.

“Damn it,” I blubbered, swiping at my bloody tears. “I can’t get used to crying fucking blood. I’ve ruined about fifteen really expensive shirts.” Glancing down at my white cashmere Prada sweater, I sobbed even louder. “Oh my Hell, I’m wearing blood polka dots. This so sucks butt.”

“Shhhh,” Venus said, trying not to laugh. “It’s okay. Seltzer water gets blood out. Trust me, I know. Everything will be okay. I promise.”

“All I want to do is marry Ethan. I know it’s dumb, but it means something to me. I want Samuel to be there and see how much his mommy and daddy love each other. I want my friends and family to come. I want to eat wedding cake and smoosh it in Ethan’s face, but I can’t eat because I’m dead,” I wailed as I dropped to the floor and curled into a ball.

“Gemma can eat the entire cake and then you can drink her blood and taste it,” Venus consoled me. She squatted down next to me on the floor and rubbed my back. “I know it’s not the same as eating it, but you can still taste it.”

“But if Mother Nature makes it, it’s going to taste like ass,” I whimpered.

“Mmmkay, can’t help you there,” Venus replied with an audible gag. “Wait! How about I order you a black raspberry chip ice cream cake and we hide it in Hell’s kitchen. Gemma can eat it on the sly and then pretend to eat the real wedding cake. I’ll put a spit bucket under the table and Gemma can drop something and spew out the nasty cake your grandma makes.”

“You would do that for me?” I asked, my voice still clogged with tears.

“I’d kill shit for you. Of course I’ll buy you a wedding cake that tastes good,” she replied with a smile as she wiped away my tears.

“I’d kill shit for you too,” I said.

“Dude, you’re a freakin’ killing machine. Nobody can pop a Demon like you.”

“Thanks,” I said, starting to feel better. “I am pretty good at that. I think maybe the wedding stuff is getting to me.”

“You have a lot going on, dude. I mean this year has been a killer.”

“Pun intended?” I asked with a small smile.

“Totally,” she answered with a delighted smirk. “Let’s get you changed. Sammy will be up in a bit and you’re a bloody mess.”

“Again,” I said with a huge groan. “Pun intended?”

“Again. Totally.”

“Venus, I adore you.” I hugged my friend tight.

“Back at ya. Forever and always.”

***

“You can’t wear that.” Ethan’s tone was clipped as he glanced up from the paperwork on his desk.

I was happy to see the office had been restored to its former glory. The trees and birds were gone and the rug had been replaced. We kept furniture and rugs in a stock room now in anticipation of my family’s destructive visits.

“And why not?” I glanced down at the icy blue fitted Stella McCartney sweater dress Venus had picked out for me when I was sure I was done crying. “Is there something on it?”

“No, there’s nothing on it,” he said with an eye roll.

“Then why in the Hell can’t I wear it?”

“Because it shows off your body too much,” he informed me as if that were a reasonable objection.

“Um, are you serious? I wear stuff like this everyday and I’ve never heard you complain.”

“I’m complaining now.” His superior tone made my fangs drop and my fingers spark.

“You are not the boss of me. I am the boss of me and I look fantastic in this dress,” I snapped and accidentally put my fang through my bottom lip. “Dang it, look what you made me do. If I bleed on this dress because you’re being a butthole, I’m gonna kick your ass.”

“Did you just call me a butthole?” he asked with a closed eye wince.

“If the shoe fits,” I muttered angrily. “Samuel thought I looked pretty.”

“You do look pretty,” he shouted. “You look beautiful. You look hotter than Hell. I’m just not in the mood for any other male Vampyre to ogle you. Killing someone today would be bad form. Besides, that damn dress is boner material.”

“You did not just say boner material.”

“I most certainly did,” he shot back in a tight voice.

“You have a boner?” I asked, biting back my victorious grin with effort.

“Yes,” he hissed. “Are you pleased?”

“Yep. Does it hurt?” I bent forward, purposely revealing a whole bunch of cleavage.

“Now it does,” he griped. “Not sure I’ll come off as the all powerful Vampyre Prince of the North American Dominion with a monster erection.”

“I think your package is mighty impressive. I say wear it with pride. You’ll scare the shit out of them and they’ll run screaming from the compound with jealousy.”

“Astrid,” Ethan warned as I lifted up my dress and mooned him, revealing the lovely fact that I was going commando. “Are you trying to kill me?”

“Since you’re already dead, that would be an impossibility,” I told him with a careless shrug as I pulled my dress back down over my naked bottom. “But I could help you out real quick if you’d like.”

“There are four irate Vampyres on the way to my office as we speak. We have about ten minutes and all the blood from my brain is now in my dick, thanks to your lack of panties. If you’re going to do something, do it now,” he hissed.

“Fine,” I said, trying not to laugh. He was so easy and he was about to pay the price for thinking he was in charge of me… “Close your eyes and listen to my voice.”

“Did you hear me? I said we only had ten minutes.” He closed his eyes and sat forward in anticipation. He was clearly on board for a quickie.

“Won’t even take thirty seconds,” I purred.

“You’re that good?” he asked. He opened one eye and gave me a grin so sexy, I actually felt a little bad about what I was about to do.

“You know I am, Big Boy. Close your eyes,” I instructed.

“Can I touch you?” he ground out as he went to unzip the fly of his pants.

“Nope and you can’t touch yourself either,” I told him. I took his hands and held them in mine.

“Hurry up,” he choked out, squeezing my hands hard.

“Lights are low,” I whispered slowly, pulling my man in immediately. “You’re completely naked and your body aches with need.

“You got that right,” he said gruffly.

“Shhhh, you hear her enter,” I continued.

“Who enters?” Ethan asked, confused. “It’s supposed to be you.”

“It is me,” I said as I bit down on my lip and tried not to giggle. “Just go with it. I’m telling it in third person because that’s the way they do it in my romance novels. Do you want to have a mongo hard-on when they get here or not?”

“Not,” he said through clenched teeth.

“Then shut up and listen.”

“Listening,” he growled.

“You feel her touch. It’s so very soft. Her hands move in a circular motion down your body with purpose. Slowly the hands move lower and lower…”

“Go on,” he urged desperately when I paused.

I put on the sexiest voice I had and let her rip. “You moan as she begins to move her hands up and down your thick shaft. You can feel the starched edge of her habit as she works the rhythm into a quicker pace. And then you realize that there are four hands pleasuring you—four bony, old, nasty hands on your man tool. You open your eyes and scream like a girl when you see Martha and Jane completely naked squatting over you with your weenie in their foul clutches. The only thing they’re wearing are their wimples. They look like deranged religious penguins and…”

“Sweet Jesus,” Ethan shouted and jumped up from his chair in terror. “What the hell kind of fucked up story is that?”

“Do you have a boner anymore?” I inquired with a polite tilt of my head.

“No,” he yelled as he looked down. “I may never have one again. I’m pretty sure my dick just shriveled up and died.”

“Mission accomplished. You can take the meeting fully confident that your weenie will not be making an appearance,” I informed him.

“You are a horrible woman and I will get you back for this,” he warned as he shook his head and grimaced. “Do not ever do that again. Please.”

“Don’t ever tell me what I can and can’t wear again,” I shot back.

Ethan’s head fell back on his broad shoulders and his chuckle went all through me. “You win, Astrid. It was appalling, but you win. And don’t refer to my dick as a weenie.”

“Roger that,” I replied with a laugh. “Aren’t you going to thank me?”

“Um, no.”

“That’s not very nice.”

“True, but it’s not very nice of you to have left the visual of Martha and Jane anywhere in the vicinity of my cock either.”

“But I did solve your problem,” I said trying to lighten the mood a bit.

“Yes,” he agreed with an arched brow. “And I think it might be a week or so before my pride and joy is able to come out and play again.”

“Dude, I could get him back up in five seconds,” I promised and went for the hem of my dress.

“Stop,” Ethan bellowed and turned his back on me. “Do. Not. Show. Me. Your. Ass. I can’t take another quickie that will force me into therapy, ever again. Am I clear?”

“Very,” I said.

“Good.” He turned around, eyeing me cautiously, just in case I’d disobeyed and whipped the dress off after all.

His audible grunt of relief was hilarious. Even five hundred year old all powerful Vampyre Princes could be controlled with a little T and A. I thoroughly enjoyed knowing I could bring him down—or up, as it were.

“You ready for the Vamps?” I asked as I took a seat and crossed my legs primly.

“Are you?” he asked as he sat down behind his desk.

“I was born ready. Oh, Satan is scheduled to arrive in two hours. I figured that would be enough time to get the Vampyres out of here.”

“Sounds like a plan. We’re going to play nice unless they give us reason to behave otherwise,” he said as he went through a file and got his game face on.

“I promise not to light up like the Fourth of July and blast anyone through the roof. It will be my good deed for the day.”

“That’s my girl.”

Of course, no good deed goes unpunished…

Chapter 5

“They’re here, sire,” Venus said as she shut the office door behind her and waited for further instruction.

Ethan sat behind his desk. My cousin, Heathcliff and his mate Raquel, who happened to be Ethan’s sister, had transported back from Europe for the meeting and stood behind him and to the left. Ethan’s father, the King, had arrived with his mate, Pam—my profane and fabulous Guardian Angel. They were seated in chairs in front of Heathcliff and Raquel.

Gareth was standing on the right hand side of the desk and I stood proudly next to my mate. Three times I’d had to pull back the magical black glitter that covered my arms. It simply wouldn’t do to have the visiting Vampyres see me all sparkly. I’d save that for the finale, if I needed it.

We presented a frightening picture. The power gathered in the room was unheard of and sent the message that we weren’t fucking around very clearly.

“Bring them in Venus, and then you will stay,” Ethan said. His eyes glowed green and his power literally filled the room.

Damn that was hot.

“As you wish, my liege.” Venus bowed respectfully to hide her grin. She wouldn’t have missed this showdown for anything. The only ones of our inner circle that were missing were The Kev and Gemma, but Ethan had thought it wise to have only Vampyres present for the initial meeting. Pam was an Angel, of course, but she was mated to the king—everyone expected her presence. Fairies would make the visiting group more wary than they already were.

I agreed.

“Asscrackada,” Pam said as Venus left to retrieve the guests. “What’s this shit I hear about you tying the knot in Hell?”

Everyone gaped at me and Ethan, except for Gareth who was already privy to the horrendous news.

“I cut a deal,” I said with a careless shrug to hide the fact that it really bothered me. “Satan’s going to close the portals, and in exchange, I’m going to trade vows with Ethan in Hell. No biggie.”

“I call bullshit,” Pam said. “That sneaky motherfucker is always up to no good. How are the Vamps going to be able to go to Hell at all?”

“I’m working out the details tonight. Satan will be here later,” I told her with a smile plastered on my face that I was fairly sure came nowhere close to reaching my eyes.

“Do you want me to stay?” Pam asked. “The crafty bastard’s a little afraid of me.”

“As he well should be,” the King said affectionately to his mate. “You are as frightening as they come.”

“Thank you, sweetheart,” Pam said to the King as she lovingly stroked his face and planted a big wet one on him.

I almost laughed at the juxtaposition of their words to their actions, but I held it back. They were a very magically powerful pair and had gone through Hell to be together—their adoration moved me. Actually, all of us had had travelled to Hell and back to be together—Heathcliff and Raquel, and me and Ethan, and we were all stronger for it. A meeting with some pissy Vamps would be a piece of cake.

“I can handle Satan,” I assured Pam.

“You can handle anything, Assbag.” She nodded and winked.

I idly wondered if she would ever get tired of turning my name into something paired with the word ass. Secretly I hoped not, but I gave her an enormous eye roll to make her happy.

“Any word on Vlad’s whereabouts?” Gareth asked Heathcliff and Raquel for an update on the search.

“We have a few leads and the Angels are cooperating. We’ll get him, I promise,” Heathcliff said.

Gareth nodded curtly and leaned on the edge of the desk. None of us knew how much time he had left. The whole situation was sickening and made me furious.

“How are Lelia, Alexander and Nathan holding up?” Raquel asked Pam and her father.

The three other Royal siblings who had also been cursed were being cared for in the King’s South American Palace. The fact that four were in danger of dying made finding Vlad all the more urgent.

“They’re not in as bad shape as Gareth,” the King said, watching his son with concern. “We believe they might have more time.”

“Vlad’s a damned fucktard and when I get my hands on that little pissant he’s going to wish he’d never been born,” Pam hissed and began to light up like a firework.

“Dial it back,” I instructed firmly. “We all want him dead, but right now our focus is on the shitshow about to go down right here. One hellacious problem at a time.”

“Astrid is correct,” Ethan said quietly as the Vamps were on the other side of the door now. “We deal with the matter at hand and then move on. Am I clear?”

“You are,” Pam replied tersely. “My apologies.”

“Can I ask a quick question?” I inquired.

“How quick?” Ethan shot back.

“Really quick.”

“Yes,” he replied as he checked his weapons.

“Why is it that the people you’ve hired to run parts of North America—for lack of a better word—are so dangerous?”

“Because we’re a race that respects violence. I trust them enough and they fear me enough to make the situation as stable as an unstable situation can be.”

“Do we think they might be opening the portals?” Heathcliff questioned.

“I sure as Hell hope not, for their sake,” Ethan muttered.

I hadn’t even considered that it could be Vampyres doing this. I’d assumed it was coming from Hell. Never assume, Astrid…

It was however, an excellent question considering the fault would lie with me because of my association with Satan. It would be a very smart way to discredit me to our race, not that I needed a whole lot of help with that. My plan to make the undead pay their fair share had made me beyond wildly unpopular.

“How are we gonna do this?” I asked, wondering if I should say anything at all since I was the one truly out of favor with my kind.

“Astrid, you take the lead,” Ethan said with an evil little grin. “Let’s unnerve our guests a bit. It will be interesting for them to see we’re both in charge. It might also throw them off enough to play their cards.”

“The pleasure will be mine,” I replied with an enormous smile and a disrespectful curtsey.

“Oh shit,” Pam muttered with a laugh. “I suppose today is as good as any to die.”

“No one’s going to die—although, it would be it would be lovely to shed a little blood,” Raquel chimed, giggling.

I loved my sister-in-law.

“Is everyone armed?” Heathcliff asked as he popped his neck and checked his weapons.

“Oh my Uncle God,” I griped. “I’m not going to start a war.”

“Famous last words,” Gareth commented with chuckle and a feral grin.

God, we were a violent bunch.

And the fun began.

There were four—two men and two women. They were as beautiful as I expected them to be. The women were blonde and statuesque and the men had darker coloring. They were a pretty picture on the surface, but what lay beneath was anyone’s guess. Each of them oversaw a section of the North American Territory and reported to Ethan. The sheer power the new Vampyres added to the room would have made it hard to breathe if I needed to—which, thankfully, I didn’t. In a less violent race they would be called governors or mayors—in our world they could be labeled somewhat hostile allies.

They were not elected. The four had been appointed by Ethan centuries ago and could only be removed by death. Before my time, several had been removed at the hands of my mate, but this particular group had been stable enough for the last several hundred years.

However, today they seemed anything but rational. An unhappy Vampyre was a dangerous Vampyre—this group was unpredictable.

“Welcome,” Ethan said without getting up.

The slight didn’t go unnoticed, but was politely ignored. Each came forward and bowed to Ethan and the King, and then moved back to the appointed sitting area.

The women, Trista and Mary, each took a seat and the men, Francisco and Spike, stood. It was very clear by the tension in the room they didn’t like what they saw before them anymore than they liked each other. This was going to be delightful.

“Shall I start?” Trista inquired staring daggers at me.

I smiled and waved. I hadn’t had the pleasure of making her acquaintance yet—and it wasn’t a pleasure at all.

“Please do,” I said evenly.

“She’s running this meeting?” Spike inquired with raised brows.

“She has a name,” I shot back with a cool smile. “It’s Astrid. And no, I’m not running anything at the moment. This is my home and you are our guests. I was simply being gracious. Is that a problem for you, Spike?”

“Not at all, Your Highness,” Spike said with a small smirk and a bow. “Just clarifying, Astrid. Your house. Your rules.

“Spike, may I ask you a question?” I inquired.

“By all means.”

“Do you watch Buffy the Vampyre Slayer?”

His laugh was delightful and filled the tension-laden room. “As a matter of fact, Astrid, I do. It happens to be the greatest television show ever made. I’ve memorized most of the episodes.”

I wasn’t sure, but I thought I might like Spike. The TV obsession was a little off, but let’s face it, we were all a little off.

“Are we done with the pleasantries?” Mary asked tonelessly, as she examined her manicure. She obviously didn’t find Spike’s quirks as amusing as I did.

“I wouldn’t call them pleasant, but yes,” Ethan said in a cold voice, making the guests slightly uncomfortable.

The exchanged glances were a bit unnerving, but what did I expect? These Vamps were old and angry. I was new and an unwelcome game changer.

“The Demons are wreaking havoc in our territories. This is unacceptable,” Trista went on with acid in her tone. “This lands squarely in your court. It’s interesting that it occurred so soon after your mating, Ethan. The timing leads us to believe that this is just the tip of the iceberg due to the… heritage of your mate.”

“Trinka? May I call you Trinka?” I asked politely, taking a page from Pam’s book by mangling her name.

“My name is Trista,” she corrected me with a sour expression.

“That’s what I said, Trunkie,” I replied with an innocent smile. “I will freely admit my heritage is dubious, even by my standards.”

“Which are very low,” Pam added with a sassy grin.

“Thank you, Pam. My hanging out with you can attest to that.”

“Amen to that, Assmunch,” she said with a thumbs up.

Trista stiffened and Mary’s eyes narrowed to slits. Francisco simply watched without expression except for a raised brow and Spike seemed to be enjoying himself.

“So be that as it may, my suspect heritage is actually in our favor at the moment,” I explained, walked to the front of Ethan’s desk and perched on the edge.

The grin on Spike’s face put him on my good list. The utter confusion on the three other faces fed my need to screw with them. With a quick glance to Ethan to make sure that he was with me, I continued.

“I find this difficult to believe,” Mary said talking to me, but eyeing Ethan like she wanted to eat him.

“Scary, while I appreciate both your concern and your lack of manners. I can assure you that the portal issue will be taken care of shortly. However, my suspect heritage didn’t open the portals. Someone else did,” I said, watching closely for any sign of guilt in the group.

Damn it, no one even flinched.

“Well, I’m good with that,” Spike said, clapping his hands together. “Are we done here?”

“Absolutely not,” Mary hissed. “We’ve not come all this way to leave after five minutes. Our people have other issues as well.”

“Let me guess, Harry… the wedding and the division of wealth,” I said.

“And the child,” Mary said silkily, ignoring the fact that I’d just called her by a man’s name.

“What about the child?” Ethan demanded making the guests blanch.

“Many don’t believe he could possibly exist, darling,” Mary recovered and went on talking to my mate as if they were the only two people in the room.

Darling? WTF? That was so not working for me. She was messing with the wrong chick. Ethan was no one’s darling except mine. Furthermore, I was going to have a serious chat with my mate right after we got rid of our guests. If he’d popped her sometime within his five hundred and twenty-two years on this earth, he was losing panty privileges for the foreseeable future for not making me aware of the disgusting fact.

Her posture and the way she batted her long lashes at him made me want to flick my fingers and singe the hair off of her gorgeous head, but that would be childish. I could do far better than that.

“Well, Larry, it’s quite easy to understand. Ethan and I screwed. A lot. And it was awesome because he’s hung like a horse. In fact, right before you got here, we had a quickie—on the chair you’re sitting in, which was wildly satisfying. So like I said, we had an enormous amount of very aerobic sex, and since I’m the Chosen One, I got knocked up. The end,” I explained sarcastically.

Mary practically jumped out of her chair and Pam’s loud cackle filled the room. I refused to glance back at Ethan because I was mad at him. I knew he’d had a life before me, but I would have liked a little heads up that he’d done the nasty with Mary-Scary-Larry-Harry.

“Venus, would you please have Samuel brought in? I’d like to him meet our esteemed guests Spike, Francisco, Trudy and Skank,” I said in such a pleasant tone that the butchering of their names almost went unnoticed—or maybe they were still digesting the fact that some nookie had taken place recently.

“Yes, my Liege,” Venus said as her eyes danced with mirth.

“It will just be a moment folks,” I said as I made myself comfortable and avoided Ethan’s gaze, which I could feel boring into my back. I still didn’t like him. “Samuel is a delightful child, but watch what you say. He has a habit of changing the color of people’s skin.”

The open mouthed expressions of horror from Mary and Trista were all kinds of awesome, but the best was yet to come…

That’s when the foul-mouthed penguins brought my son into the room.

Chapter 6

“Nuns are raising your child?” Trista demanded, completely outraged. “Immortals are as unholy as they come.”

“Speak for yourself,” Pam muttered, insulted.

“Seriously? Nuns?” Mary sneered as she examined Samuel with far too much interest for my liking from across the room.

My family was as surprised as the four unwelcome guests at the entrance of the ancient Sisters, but amazingly kept their faces poker straight.

I loved my weird family.

“Looks that way,” I answered as I made the sign of the cross and bowed to the warily confused Martha and Jane. “Sister Martha and Sister Jane, our guests don’t believe that Samuel is Ethan’s and my son.”

I took my nine-month old baby who was roughly the size of a small five year old from the arms of Jane and covered his face in kisses. His giggle made the world right in an instant, even though much of it seemed to be spiraling out of control.

“What kind of bull-honkey horseshit is that?” Martha demanded as she slapped her bony hands on her habit-covered hips. “That boy is definitely your child. He cusses like a damned sailor and is the spittin’ image of his daddy.”

“You got that right. He called Sister Martha here an asshat-douchecanoe not even five minutes ago,” Jane volunteered with a thumbs-up to my child.

This wasn’t going exactly as I’d envisioned, but nothing did when Martha and Jane were involved. I would have preferred to keep my potty mouth under wraps, but at least our guests were thrown off their game. Maybe we could knock them left of center enough to figure out if they were involved in the portal mess.

“Exactly what kind of nuns are you?” Trista inquired as she crossed her arms over her ample chest and pursed her lips in a revolting duckface.

There was a short uncomfortable silence while I racked my brain and tried to remember a name of an order, but unfortunately the old bags beat me to it.

“Republican,” Jane announced to the now stunned silent group. “We’re Republican nuns from the order of…”

“Bushjeb,” Martha finished with a curt nod.

“It’s a secret order,” Pam explained with a pious expression.

As Pam was an Angel, there was very little the distrusting Vamps could argue. I wasn’t quite sure how my family kept straight faces. It was all I could do not to squeal with laughter.

“But they’re Vampyres,” Francisco spoke up for the first time. “I have never in my four hundred years come across an undead nun.”

“Yes, well there’s a first time for everything,” Ethan said tightly as he went to escort our un-holy nannies from the room. “Sister Martha and Sister Jane, your presence is no longer required. You’re dismissed.”

“To pray,” I added quickly.

“Um… okay,” Martha said as she made a clumsy sign of the cross that resembled a performance of Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes.

“I’d like to suggest that you all pray with your rosemary and ask Astrid’s Uncle God and Cousin Asian Female Jesus for forgiveness for doubting the existence of the Second Coming of Buddha Jones,” Jane added primly, not to be outdone by Martha’s butchered genuflecting.

“I’m sorry, what did you just say?” Spike asked, genuinely perplexed.

“She’s drunk,” I told Spike. I covertly flicked my fingers and sealed Martha and Jane’s mouths shut before they could say something even stupider. I wasn’t sure what could be more idiotic than what they had already said, but I was taking no chances.

Their religious upbringing was as fucked up as they were and since it was tremendously difficult for Vampyres to tie one on, my excuse was a little fucked up as well.

I handed off Samuel to Raquel, hustled Martha and Jane from the room and shoved them into the hallway shutting the door behind me.

“What in tarnation was that?” Martha whispered, wide eyed as I waved my hand and unsealed their lips.

“It was a clusterfuck,” I whispered back. “Just go with it.”

“Will do, but I think after that we should be able to wear booty shorts, Knockers McChesticle,” Jane bargained with a smirk.

“Fine,” I hissed as quietly as I could. “You can wear them under your habits.”

“Boob tubes?”

“Under the habits,” I said, caving. “However, from now on when strange Vampyres are around you have to be from an order that has taken a vow of silence.”

“Define strange,” Jane said, squinting her eyes at me in confusion.

“Just don’t speak. Ever.”

“But the Bushjebs are talkers,” Martha said.

“The Bushjebs don’t exist,” I shot back.

“Pam said they did,” Jane reasoned. “She’s an Angel. She would know these things.”

“Oh my God,” I muttered. “Go to your rooms and don’t come out until I get you.”

“We’re grounded?” Jane whined.

“Just go,” I snapped as I attempted to pull myself back together.

They waddled down the hall looking like deranged penguins. Deciding a prayer might be a good idea, I mouthed a quick apology to my Uncle God for letting Martha and Jane impersonate nuns, and then reentered the party.

“Sorry about that,” I mumbled. I quickly retrieved my son and took my place beside Ethan—much to Mary’s displeasure. “Sister Martha and Sister Jane are um…”

“Not really nuns?” Spike suggested helpfully with a grin pulling at his lips.

“Why would you say that?” I asked, avoiding eye contact as I unnecessarily straightened Samuel’s Scooby Doo t-shirt.

“Well, praying with a rosemary and Buddha Jones for a start,” he replied.

“Cousin Asian Female Jesus?” Trista added with a twinkle in her eye.

“That part is actually true,” I admitted thinking maybe Trista might be okay. “And no, they’re not nuns. It’s a punishment.”

“I’m not following,” Trista said, staring at Samuel with longing.

I pulled my baby tighter to me, but I understood her envy. Vampyres could not have children. We live forever and ever, but are incapable of reproduction. The simple fact Ethan and I had been blessed with Samuel was unexplainable other than it was fulfillment of the prophecy and I was a freak of nature.

“They normally dress inappropriately,” Ethan said mildly as he sat back down to bring the meeting back to order.

“Habits aren’t inappropriate?” Francisco asked as he too stared at Samuel with fascination.

“Nope. They normally wear assless chaps, booty shorts or boob tubes,” I replied, walking toward the curious Vampyres with my child in my arms. “You can touch him.”

“Really?” Trista whispered reverently.

Spike and Francisco stepped up to get in line, but Mary stayed back. She was clearly unhappy that Ethan wasn’t her darling anymore.

Tough shit.

“Yep, but Samuel bites and if he senses you’re evil or mean me harm he’ll turn you into a small green gob of stinky goo,” I warned.

“Silly Mommy!” Samuel yelled gleefully as he took in the occupants of the room. “Me do no such thing.”

The Vampyres backed away as a precaution, but my baby’s reply calmed them.

“How old is he?” Spike asked as he approached and held out his hand to Samuel.

“Nine months,” I replied. “His intellect is that of an adult and he grows so rapidly we can’t keep up, but he’s still just a child.”

Samuel took Spike’s hand into his chubby one and searched the Vampyre’s face intently. Spike cocked his head to the side and smiled at the scrutiny.

“Do I pass?” he asked, speaking directly to Samuel.

“Yes,” Samuel said grinning. “You will play soccer wif me.”

Spike was stunned for a brief moment and then barked out a laugh. “What else can you see, little man?”

“Enough,” Ethan said tersely. “You’ve seen my child. He is the natural child of Astrid and me. You are free to tell our people he exists and nothing more. Am I clear?”

“You are,” Spike said with a respectful nod and the others followed suit.

“This meeting is adjourned until tomorrow morning. Venus, please show our guests to their suites,” Ethan instructed abruptly.

“Yes, sire,” Venus replied as she opened the door and waited for the entourage to exit with her hand placed very purposely on her sword.

“It was a pleasure to see the child,” Trista said with a bow to Ethan and me. “I’d love to spend some time with him if you will allow it.”

“We shall see,” Ethan said in a cool tone as he took Samuel from me and went back behind his desk. “I do appreciate your concerns. However, I’m not convinced you four are not part of the problem. Please tread lightly and don’t do anything that will make me lose sleep by having to kill you.”

“And on that note, I shall take my leave,” Spike said with a deep bow. “I believe there’s a Twilight marathon on HBO this fine evening.”

No one blinked an eye at Spike’s announcement and they all filed out. Mary was the last one to leave and gave Ethan a lingering hungry look that he missed because he was busy cuddling Samuel. However, I didn’t miss it. She was chapping my ass.

As the door closed behind them, Pam heaved out a huge sigh of relief that made me jealous I couldn’t breathe.

“Well, who in the fuck thought dressing Martha and Jane up as nuns was a good idea?” Pam asked as she got to her feet and took Samuel from Ethan.

“Watch your damn language in front of the baby,” I admonished her. “I punished Martha and Jane for accidentally opening a portal full of Demons. They have to wear clothing that covers their bodies until further notice. I thought the nun thing was pretty funny until it became a reality,” I mumbled, avoiding Ethan’s I told you so look.

“I thought it was rather delightful,” Gareth said as he sat down on the couch in exhaustion. “I’m not sure I’ll attend anymore of these meetings. I think my presence might weaken us.”

“No,” Heathcliff disagreed. He took Raquel’s hand and crossed to Gareth. “We’re weaker if we hide you. Gossip travels quickly and we don’t need it getting out that you’ve gone into seclusion or you’re dead. Trust me, the entire population will hear of this evening and that you were part of it.”

“And that’s a good thing?” the King asked worriedly.

“It is. We don’t need our people believing their leaders are dying off. The Royal Family has enough real problems at the moment. We don’t need any false ones floating around,” Ethan said and then turned his attention to our happily babbling son. “Samuel, how did you know that Spike played soccer?”

“Spike really plays soccer?” I asked, alarmed. I thought maybe Samuel had just guessed.

Shit.

“He did,” Ethan confirmed. “He’s been an Olympian many times over. His gift is morphing. He can take on other’s forms—which in turn makes it possible for him to play soccer at a high level for many years and not get caught.”

“He morphs like Jean Paul,” Raquel added.

Jean Paul was Raquel’s half-brother that she’d turned centuries ago. He’d recently voluntarily morphed into my insane sister Juliette when we were trying to trap and catch Vlad—aka Dracula. The move had failed, but because of witnessing Vlad’s unforgivable murderous transgressions, the Angels now believed that he needed to be eliminated. The Holy Whack Jobs were hunting him just like we were. Of course they had more at stake considering one of their own was responsible for placing the curse for Vlad that was killing Gareth, Leila, Nathan and Alexander. It was a big fat immortal clusterfuck.

“I find it offensive that you Americans call football, soccer,” Gareth said with a wince of distaste.

“Whatever, I’m still stuck on the fact that Spike could potentially turn himself into one of us,” I muttered with concern. “Was he as good a soccer player as Pele?”

“He was Pele,” Ethan answered.

“Sorry? I’m pretty sure Pele is still alive.”

“He is,” the King said with a grin. “Spike just played a good portion of his games during his career.”

“Does Pele know this?” I asked trying to wrap my head around the bizarre ways my people found to amuse themselves.

“Of course he does,” Raquel explained. “He’s a Unicorn.”

“Shut the front fucking door,” I shouted. “Two Unicorns in one day?”

“Fucking door,” Samuel squealed with glee as I slapped my hand over my offensive mouth.

Politely ignoring my faux pas with only a tiny eye roll, Ethan stuck to the matter at hand. “Who else is a Unicorn?” he inquired as he fished a roll of duct tape from a drawer in his desk.

“Steve Perry is a Unicorn,” I told him as I took the tape and ripped off a large piece.

“Well that certainly explains why he didn’t have to be institutionalized after his Christmas abduction,” Ethan commented wryly. “However, I’m not quite done with our little man. Samuel, could you tell that Spike played soccer by touching him?”

“Yes, Daddy! Me tell lots of things by touching people.”

“Shit,” I mumbled as my body dropped like a sack of potatoes into the oversized leather chair next to Ethan’s desk.

My child’s scary talents grew by the day. No, make that by the hour…

“Shit,” Samuel yelled and then pumped his hands over his head in victory.

With a groan of defeat, I slapped the tape over my mouth and sunk lower into the soft leather. I was a True Immortal. I was virtually impossible to kill. I could flick my fingers and decimate the continental US, but I could be reduced to poop on a sharp stick in the left eye by my beautiful repetitive child.

“Samuel, if you see anything from someone you don’t know, including the four Vampyres that were in here tonight, I don’t want you to say anything about it except to me or Mommy. Is that a deal?” Ethan asked our son as he squatted down in front of him and put his hands on his cheeks.

“Is it dangewous?” Samuel asked with big eyes, scooting closer to Ethan.

“Possibly,” Ethan replied gravely as he pulled Samuel even closer.

I hated that my oversized nine month old had to learn things that someone twenty times his age wouldn’t want to know, but our world was dangerous—and unpredictable. My son was also a True Immortal who embodied the gifts of all the True Immortals combined. He was a miracle and an anomaly. He was probably in more danger than any of us. The fact that he was as impossible to kill as I was gave me a modicum of comfort, but the thought of things far worse than death often crowded my dreams. It wasn’t so long ago that my baby was taken by the Fairies. That one still kept me up at night…

Ripping the tape from my mouth with a pained yelp, I silently swore not to let one four-letter word rip. “I don’t want Samuel around any of those fuc…ahrgers,” I said. “I want him kept out of their sight. They’ve seen him. The shi…p ass…pirins can tell all the rest of our people that he exists. He’s off limits to them.”

“Ship aspirins?” Pam asked with a wide grin.

“Zip it,” I snapped with a barely disguised grin of my own. “It worked didn’t it?”

“Mommy, mommy, mommy,” Samuel said with a giggle and a shake of his blond curls. “If you hide me, they will want me more. Spike is sad. He do some bad things, but he not all bad. He just want to be different.”

“He’s got that cornered,” Pam muttered.

“Did he open the portals?” Gareth asked, standing up with some difficulty.

Samuel thought for a moment and then shook his head. “He no open port holes.”

“We could save some time and just let Samuel touch each of them,” Gareth suggested carefully as he backed away from an instantaneously irate Ethan.

“Absolutely not,” Ethan ground out in a voice that made the entire room take a few steps toward the door.

Ethan’s fangs had dropped and his eyes blazed a menacing green. Power rolled off of him and I feared for Gareth’s undead life. However, I was completely onboard with my mate. My son would not be used in any way whatsoever in this fucking mess.

“Stay over there, Gareth,” Ethan instructed as tried to regain control of his fury. “Not quite sure I won’t tear your head from your shoulders for offering up my son as bait.”

“Ethan, I wouldn’t put him in danger,” Gareth said, holding his ground. “I’d kill anything or anyone that even looked at him sideways. I was just saying…”

“You were suggesting that the rest of our race learn of Samuel’s powers. Rationally, I understand that you didn’t mean that, but that’s exactly what it would lead to. My son’s gifts need to be kept under wraps as much as possible until he’s able to defend himself. He is nowhere near being able to defend himself. So… suggest it again and you lose your head.”

“My apologies,” Gareth said. “You are correct and I was, um…”

“You were bass-ackwards, Gong Show goofy, full of bollocks, you FUBARed?” Pam offered with a chuckle.

“Wrong would have sufficed,” Gareth said with an eye roll that he somehow made look proper.

“The Demons are nothing new. Dealing with angry Vampyres is nothing new,” Ethan said, now calm. “All of these things we have dealt with and will deal with again—many times.”

“I’m meeting with Satan shortly and I’ll have the portals closed this evening,” I told everyone. “I’m with Ethan on protecting Samuel. Anyone who goes near him without our permission will be a pile of dust.”

“Mommy, wif all due respect, Uncle Garif is right. Me can tell who is opening the port holes,” Samuel said as he crawled into my lap and laid his tired head on my shoulder.

“I’ll keep that in mind, little man,” I said as I buried my face in his soft silky curls. “But this is nothing you need to worry about right now. Do you understand?”

“Yep,” he said with a huge yawn. “Blobbityflonk can do it if you don’t want me to.”

“What?” I asked, confused. “Blobbityflonk can see people too?”

Blobbityflonk was our pet baboon—an ill-advised Christmas gift to Samuel from Mother Nature. At first I was appalled due to his odor and lack of bathroom etiquette, but I quickly fell in love with the stinky bastard. He’d grown on Ethan as well, even though he complained about him frequently.

“Yes. Blobbityflonk can do lots of stuff,” Samuel said as his eyes began to flutter closed.

“Good to know, Baby,” I whispered to my now sleeping child.

His growth spurts made him constantly tired. With an internal sigh, I wondered if he’d wake up as a teenager tomorrow morning.

“Let me take him to the nursery,” Pam whispered. She held out her arms for my boy. “We’ll stay with him until we get this motherhumpin’ clustershitwhomp figured out. You deal with that pesky pain-in-the-ass Uncle of yours, and the King and I will protect Samuel.”

The King nodded and smiled. I couldn’t ask for better protection. The two put together were as deadly as they came.

I nodded and relinquished my most precious possession into the hands my Guardian Angel. Ethan seemed at peace with the situation as well. Pam and the King quietly left the office. We all stood silently, lost in our own thoughts. However, I was quite sure my thoughts were very different from those of Heathcliff, Raquel and Gareth.

“So did you pop that skank, Harry?” I asked Ethan with raised brows and my arms crossed over my chest.

“Um… we have to go,” Raquel said quickly as she grabbed Heathcliff and Gareth and pulled them toward the door with an expression of horror on her face.

“Yes,” Gareth said with a barely veiled grin. “Would hate to see my brother get his ass handed to him. Wait. I’d love to see that. I think we should stay.”

“We’re leaving,” Raquel hissed as she slapped her brother in the back of the head and shoved him out the door.

“We’ll be staying in my old quarters tonight if you need a place to bunk,” Heathcliff told Ethan with a quick bow as he sprinted after his mate.

“So you did poke her,” I said, starring daggers at Ethan.

“I’m a great deal older than you,” Ethan said, watching me warily. “You knew I wasn’t a saint.”

“This is correct,” I agreed with a careless shrug. “I have no control over the women you slept with before me. However, in the future you will inform me of your belt notches before I get blindsided by them during a meeting.”

“I’d forgotten about her,” he confessed sheepishly.

Inside I cheered, but outwardly I stayed cool. “She certainly didn’t.”

“I’m memorable,” he said with a smug grin.

“So you say…”

“Does someone who clearly meant little to nothing to me really bother you?” Ethan asked. He scrubbed his hand over his face and tried to hide his smile.

“Let’s turn that question around, Little Mister. How exactly would you feel if some dude was eyeball fucking me during a meeting because I’d horizontal mamboed with him several hundred years ago?”

His grin was gone—completely gone.

“Fair point. Well made,” he growled. “Shall I kill her?”

“Um, no,” I choked out on a somewhat horrified laugh. “You’d have to kill quite a few gals if I was that bloodthirsty. I’m not. I just didn’t like the darling thing and the drool.”

“Astrid, I’m yours completely. What can I do that would make you happy?”

I sat and contemplated for a long moment and then I felt a big very naughty grin pull at my lips. “After I talk with Satan, meet me in the empty suite on the third floor.”

“The one near our guests?” he asked with a raised brow and a sexy little smirk.

“Yep.”

His laugh went all through me and my tummy tingled with anticipation. I would show Harry-Scary-Larry-Mary just whose darling Ethan was. My kind understood two things things—violence and sex. Possession was nine tenths of the law and I was definitely in possession.

Chapter 7

“Do you have a wedding planner?” Satan asked, wandering around the office searching for something.

“I’ve been doing it myself,” I said following him to make sure he wasn’t absconding with more of our stuff. There weren’t many office supplies left after his last visit. I couldn’t have him stealing the furniture.

He came to an abrupt halt and I bashed right into him. “That’s ridiculous. You can’t plan a wedding for thousands by yourself.”

“Memo to the Devil,” I snapped. “We are not inviting thousands. It’s family and friends only.”

“Whose friends? My friends or your friends?”

“You don’t have any friends.”

“Right,” he replied with a shrug and a grin. “I keep forgetting that.”

He paced the office in agitation so I sat down and watched. My Uncle was not one to rush. He’d get to all of his points when he was ready—and apparently he wasn’t quite there yet.

“I could swear it was in here,” he muttered as he circled the room and rearranged Ethan’s belongings.

“What are you looking for?” I asked wanting to get to the part of the visit that including closing the portals.

“Nothing for you to worry about,” he replied as he ceased his meandering. He took a seat behind Ethan’s desk propping his Armani clad feet on top of it with a thud.

I stifled a giggle. Satan was a piece of work.

“I have three Demons I want you to meet. They’re all dying to meet you—no pun intended—and they’re gay,” he announced with great satisfaction.

“Oookay,” I said slowly, trying to figure out what gay Demons had to do with closing the portals. “Is it important that they’re gay?”

“Of course it is,” he huffed. “No one needs a straight wedding planner. It would be sinful.”

“First of all, I already told you that I’m planning the wedding myself. I don’t need a gay Demon.”

“Everyone needs a gay Demon,” Satan replied with an eye roll. “Are you homophobic?”

“I most certainly am not,” I snapped. “Why would you even say such an awful thing?”

“Because you said you would never have a gay Demon wedding planner.”

“I did not say that.”

“Ahhh, but you did. You took issue that they were girly men and said because of this they didn’t have the talent to plan your nuptials.”

“Oh my Hell,” I shouted as my fingers sparked and I set a priceless silk throw pillow on fire. We really needed to get rid of all the expensive shit in this house. “You are such a dick. Of course, I would have a gay Demon wedding planner. I have no issues with anyone’s sexual preference.”

“Wonderful. The boys will be here tomorrow morning at eight am sharp to audition for you.”

Satan clapped his hands together signaling that we were through with the subject as I flicked my fingers and doused the pillow with water. With sickening clarity, I realized that yet again I’d been had by my uncle. I debated momentarily if it would be smarter to concede this battle because there was a bigger one at hand or rip the Devil a new one for tricking me…

His ass was safe for the time being.

I’d never admit it, but the wedding planning was slightly beyond my skill set. Furthermore, I was tying the knot in Hell. I probably did need some help from someone who actually resided there. But wait…

“What do you mean audition?” I asked warily, stuffing the ruined pillow behind a few others. That didn’t sound right to me—at all.

“You’ll see,” Satan said with a shrug and a barely disguised grin.

Shit.

“Fine,” I replied through gritted teeth, deciding I didn’t want to spend anymore time than I had to with my Uncle. It was dangerous and usually led to an explosion of some kind. It could take hours to pry information from him and I needed to go get laid in the guest room. “When can you close the portals?”

“Already done,” he replied. “However, a few have reopened. I’ve got a group of SWAT Demons out right now trying to figure out this annoying puzzle.”

I sat for a moment and digested the fact that there was a SWAT Demon team and decided to let it go. Today was full of surprises and most of them unwelcome.

“What if they can’t find out who’s reopening them?” I asked realizing with an uncomfortable gulp what my Uncle had been searching for.

It had to be that damn three headed monstrosity that I’d shoved under the chair. Whatever. There was no way I could remove it inconspicuously from its hiding place with him in the room.

Satan pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed so dramatically I almost laughed. “If—and I mean if—my Demons can’t find and destroy whatever is opening the portals, I suppose I’ll pull a favor and bring in the God Squad.”

It was my turn to pinch the bridge of my nose. God Squad? Was he yanking my chain? “At the risk of sounding like a dumbass. What in the Hell is a God Squad?”

“A fine question,” he replied with a moue of distaste. “It’s my brother’s SWAT team—full of do-gooders. I’d hate to use them, but I did promise you I’d close the portals.”

“You plan on keeping your promise?”

He stared at me for a long moment and then tilted his head to the side. “For you? Yes. I plan to keep this promise. I can’t guarantee that I’ll keep any other promise I make. It’s not in my nature to actually follow through with things, but this is my wedding gift to you and that thing you’re marrying.”

“The thing’s name is Ethan and why?”

“Why what?” Satan asked, confused.

“Why will you keep your promise to me? I’m not buying the wedding gift thing,” I replied with a laugh trapped in my throat that was very close to escaping.

“Because,” he replied curtly with a wave of his hand signifying that we were done with the conversation.

“Because you like me?” I teased.

“I don’t like anyone,” he shot back with a raised brow.

“I beg to differ,” I said as I raised my own brow to match his. “You love me.”

“That’s absurd,” Satan said angrily. “I love no one.”

“I call bullshit on that. You love me, you love Grandpa, you love Mother Nature, and you love Dixie. I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t love the Seven Deadly Sins, but I’m pretty sure you do. And I’m positive you love Samuel. So there. You can take that and shove it up your evil butthole.”

“Let’s leave my butthole out of this,” he replied easily with an enormous eye roll. “I might like that list of people you mentioned, but love is pushing it. However, if you share this conversation with anyone, I’ll make you quite sorry you did so.”

“And what exactly will you do?” I goaded him, enjoying my heart-to-heart with the Devil. “Kill me?”

“Now since we both know that’s almost virtually impossible, that’s a very silly thing to say,” he said as he clapped his hands and made Ethan’s desk disappear. “It will look better in my office.” He took in my shocked expression with glee. “Let’s just say I could make it very difficult for you to find things and it would be such a shame if your wardrobe and shoes disappeared on a regular basis.”

“This is true,” I said slowly wondering if I was brave or insane enough enough to show my hand…Yes. Yes, I was. “Be that as it may, it might be a tad bit embarrassing for you if the video of you sleep-singing Journey’s Greatest Hits was to end up on YouTube and went viral,” I countered with a nonchalant shrug on the outside and a churning stomach on the inside.

“You wouldn’t,” he said with a huge belly laugh and a look of pure fatherly pride on his beautiful face. “That would be a very bad move on your part, Astrid. However, the sheer size of your balls brings me untold amounts of pleasure. Your Demon side is developing very nicely.”

“I’d say thank you, but I’d be lying,” I told him. “I’m me. I’m a materialistic, profane, Vampyre-Demon mom who has a conscience. My Demon side is only a small part of who I am.”

“So you say… I must be off. I have a rendezvous with a rather vicious Demon. Can’t be late. She’s a horrible woman and prone to violence if kept waiting. It’s incredibly arousing,” he said as he stood and glanced around the room one last time. “Oh, and because God is such a whiney bastard, you should expect a visit from Jeff.”

“Jeff?” I asked, letting my head fall back on the couch. I had no more time for celestial beings to come and hang out. I was horny and needed to let Mary-Harry-Larry-Scary know who was bumping uglies with Ethan. “Who is Jeff?”

“Jeff is an annoying motherfucker who likes to think of himself as a pre-marital counselor. I find this rather ludicrous since the slimy little bastard has never been married and touts his celibacy as if it were a virtue,” Satan explained with a shudder of distaste.

“He’s an Angel? An Angel named Jeff?” I asked to make sure I understood this new and unfortunate wrinkle.

“Yes, and he’s coming to meet with you and Ethan about your wedding. I have no clue when. Those rude bastards always show up at the most inconvenient times,” Satan hissed.

I bit back a grin as he could have been talking about himself, but there was no way in Hell I was going to mention that. I valued my undead life.

“And who did I screw over in a former life to merit a visit from Jeff?” I snapped.

“You tell me,” Satan shot back with a laugh. “Actually, your human record is fairly clean. It’s all God’s fault. My brother got pissy because I’m hosting something that technically should take place on his turf. So I agreed to let Jeff come and spout some bullshit to you.”

“Hold the fuck on here,” I growled. “This is my wedding. Not yours and not God’s. Where do you two get off arranging things for me? I’m already mated. The marriage is just for…”

“For what?” Satan asked, truly curious. “Why is it so important to you?”

“Um… because,” I said, not knowing how to explain something so precious to the freakin’ Harbinger of Evil.

“Astrid, I know I’m not your father. Thankfully, you killed the bastard. I owe you for that by the way. And since that waste of space was my brother, it makes me the next best person to take on a fatherly role to you.”

“Are we having a father-daughter talk?” I choked out, unsure whether to laugh or run screaming from the room.

“I suppose,” Satan said thoughtfully with a small surprised chuckle. “Although episodes like these screw with my street cred. If you ever speak of this, I will smite your ass so thoroughly you won’t be able to sit on it for a year. Are we clear?”

“Crystal.”

“So I’d like to think you’re having this wedding to say fuck you to all the Vampyres, but I’d be wrong—and I’m rarely wrong. You’re having this wedding because you haven’t let go of your humanity. I find this interesting since you are so much more now than you were. Being human is overrated. They’re so weak and malleable. But that’s what it is, isn’t it?”

I stared at him and said nothing. He thought he knew me, but he was wrong—even though he hated being wrong, he was.

“However, a piece of advice,” Satan continued. “Let the humanity go. You can’t have it back no matter what you do.”

“Being psychoanalyzed by the Devil is a little disconcerting,” I muttered sarcastically.

“Yes, well, I’m good like that.”

“But you’re wrong,” I said calmly.

“Am I?”

His voice was silky and his eyes narrowed. My tummy flipped and I felt a bit light headed, but I wasn’t some wimpy little girl. I was a True Immortal Vampyre-Demon with untold power and an extremely foul mouth. I could go toe-to-toe with the Devil. Would I win? Probably not, and I never wanted to test that theory, but I wasn’t about to let him leave with any misguided illusions about me. Satan wasn’t used to being contradicted, but he wasn’t used to having a niece with no filter either. Yes, he was one of the most powerful beings alive. Yes, he could wave his hand and incinerate the world as we knew it… but he was wrong.

“Yep. You’re wrong. I know I’m not human anymore. If I had the chance to go back, I wouldn’t. I have Ethan and I have Samuel and I wouldn’t change that for anything in this world or any other.”

“I’m not following, my dear niece. How am I wrong?”

“I may not be human, but I haven’t lost my humanity, and I won’t. You seem to be forgetting that I’m Compassion,” I reminded with a smile. “I will always have a conscience and I will let it guide me.”

“Like that horrid little bug, Jiminy Cricket?” Satan inquired with a smirk.

“Yes. Exactly like the horrid little bug,” I agreed with a laugh.

“Fine,” Satan said with a put upon sigh. “You’re good and kind and blah, blah, blah. But I do have some marital advice for you.”

“Maybe we could save it for another time,” I suggested hopefully.

“No. I’m on a roll here. This kind of magnanimous attitude is rare. I’d suggest you take advantage of it,” he replied.

“Oookay,” I said, dreading what was about to come out of his mouth.

“Blow jobs are important—remember this. The occasional threesome or foursome adds a little spice. Orgies are interesting, but I’d suggest holding them once every three months or so and don’t invite people you have to see on a daily basis. Awkward is an understatement. I’m pretty sure they say not to go to bed angry—whomever the Hell they are—but I find being pissed off makes for very good sex—hence my date.”

“Um, aren’t you going to be late for that?” I asked praying to every deity I could think of that he would leave.

“Yes, I am. That will be to my advantage,” he replied with a wink that made me gag. “Affairs are fine, but don’t flaunt them and never hog the remote. Any questions?”

If I could have found my voice I would have screamed NO, but as it was trapped somewhere in my body I simply shook my head.

“I’m fairly sure I covered the important things, but if I’ve forgotten anything please feel free to call or just pop over to Hell for lunch sometime,” he said as he stood and stretched his powerful frame.

Again, I simply nodded mutely. There was nothing I could say that would be even remotely polite or not completely rife with swear words. He then bent over and touched his toes. Weird, but he was the Devil. Bizarre was normal. I assumed he was limbering up for his date.

Never assume…

“There you are,” he said as he plucked the heinous statue out from underneath the chair. “I could feel you but the info was coming in all muddled so I knew you’d been disrespected.”

“You talk to statues?” I asked with a bad feeling beginning to grow in the pit of my stomach.

“Charles isn’t a statue,” Satan said as he brushed the hideous thing off and placed him lovingly back on the coffee table. “He works for me.”

“Oh my Hell. You use that thing to spy on us?” I hissed.

“Of course I do. I can’t be everywhere at once,” he replied as if what he said made all the sense in the world.

“That’s just wrong,” I snapped.

“And your point?”

“I’m gonna destroy it.” I raised my hands, ready to blast it into a million little pieces.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Satan advised.

“And why not?” I demanded.

“Because it’s alive, O Compassionate One. Would you kill a defenseless three headed little monster that never harmed you?”

He had me there. I glanced over at Charles and realized all three of his heads were staring at me with pathetic fear in their ugly, beady, little red eyes. Fuckballs. I couldn’t kill it. It was pitiful and somewhat cute in a vomitous way.

“Take it with you,” I insisted, as I carefully circled the living piece of stone.

“No can do. He’s yours. Yes, I might occasionally use Charles to glean information, but his true job is to protect Samuel. He stays or I send a few of the Deadly Sins to watch over our boy. You pick,” my Uncle said smugly, knowing full well I would take Charles over my insane cousins.

“I’m extremely powerful.” Black glitter covered my arms and my hands sparked menacingly. “I don’t need a Charles to protect my baby,” I informed my overprotective and nosy uncle.

Then I stopped short.

I stopped short because all three of Charles’ heads were crying—slobbering and crying. And on top of that clusterfuck, six beady little eyes were beseeching me from their tear stained faces.

Dropping my head to my chest, I let it swing left and right as I tried to figure out how I was going to explain Charles to Ethan. Just like Martha, Jane, Abe, Beyoncé, Ross, Rachel and Blobbityflonk, I was going to collect another stray. Satan knew me well and he always seemed to have the upper hand. At least it was because he cared—or enjoyed spying on us.

I bit down on my lips to keep from smiling.

I would keep Charles and I would take care of him. Whatever. Satan insisted Charles had to stay. Satan was using Charles to spy on us. Satan was going to pay. I’d bet my undead life that Charles would love to watch a continuous reel of Satan butchering Journey songs and possibly a few weeks worth of Full House reruns.

“It will be fine. Welcome to the family, Charles,” I said, as I gingerly patted his lumpy heads.

“Wonderful,” Satan boomed. “My work here is done! Can’t keep Esmeralda waiting too long. I’d hate to lose an appendage tonight.”

With that, he disappeared in a giant blast of black glitter. I stared at Charles and Charles stared right back at me.

“He’s nuts,” I told Charles.

The three heads nodded enthusiastically in agreement.

“Do you talk?” I asked.

“Yesssssssssss,” the heads answered simultaneously, sounding more like Gollum than Gollum did.

“Mmmkay,” I said, trying to hide my shudder. It wasn’t their fault that their voices were nightmare inducing. “Let’s keep the speaking to a minimum.”

They nodded again and gave me thumbs up.

“Look, I’ve got to go get laid. Will you guys be okay in here alone?” I asked, and then smacked myself in the forehead. What was I thinking? They’d been alone in here for months—spying on us.

“Wiiiiillllllll youuuuu leaaaaaave the liiiiiiight oooooon?” the head in the middle asked hopefully. “Fraaaaaid of daaaaaark.”

“Um, sure,” I said as I retrieved the singed pillow from the couch and laid it on the coffee table. I gently turned the statue on its back so the three heads were resting on the ruined pillow. “Do you dudes eat?”

“Weeeeeee eat annnnnnnger,” Charles One, as I decided to call him, said on a sweet sigh as he snuggled into the pillow.

“Weeeeeeee full from all theeeeeee annnnnnngry Vaaampyyyyreees in heeeerrrre toniiiiight,” Charles Two assured me.

“Good to know,” I said, as I debated if I should kiss them goodnight. I was fairly sure they wouldn’t bite my face off, but…

Here went nothing.

I bent down and gave all three heads a little peck and quickly stood back up just in case. I knew my face would grow back if they took out a chunk, but I really didn’t have the time—especially with Mary-Harry-Larry-Scary vying for my man’s attention. I knew the skank didn’t have a chance even if I was missing half my head, but I was a gal who liked to look her best when my mate’s former conquests were visiting.

Charles’ happy giggling melted my heart. Tomorrow I would introduce the three-headed atrocity to the Baby Demons. I was certain that would lead to some massive home destruction, but things were just things. People—or Demons—were far more important than things.

I prayed that Ethan would see it the same way.

Chapter 8

“Who is Jeff and who is Charles?” Ethan asked as he ran his hands through his hair and attempted to untangle my very strange tale.

“Jeff is an Angel who is going to do our premarital counseling. Charles is the ugly three headed statue who is supposed to protect Samuel, but has been spying on us. Oh, and Satan took your desk,” I finished off somewhat lamely. Even I knew it was a lot to swallow.

The look of abject horror on my mate’s face—or maybe it was complete confusion—attested to this.

“Premarital counseling?” he asked, pressing the bridge of his nose.

“It’s a human-ish thing,” I mumbled, not making eye contact. “You talk with a minister or priest, or in our case, an Angel that’s been forced on us by God because his panties got in a wad due to the Devil getting dibs on our wedding before he did.”

Ethan stood as still as a statue for a long moment and tried to absorb my fucked-up run on sentence. If I were being honest—which I wasn’t because it would only make matters worse—I was trying to take it all in as well.

“Let’s start with something I can actually understand,” Ethan said slowly, clearly still processing. “Are the portals closed?”

“Yes and no,” I replied, glancing around the unfamiliar suite delighted to avoid the Jeff and Charles subject for a minute or two.

It was lovely, as were all of the guest suites in the Cressida House. This one was done in creams and navy—clean lines and huge dark cherry furniture. The bed was positively enormous and was calling my name. However, I needed to get through the pertinent information before I let my inner-hooker fly free.

“Define,” Ethan said, displeased. “How are they closed but not closed?”

“Satan said he closed them, but a few have been reopened. He’s got his Demon SWAT team on it, and if they can’t figure it out, he’s calling in the God Squad.”

With a shake of his head and a muttered curse Ethan sat down on the couch and crossed his arms over his chest. “The potential of a war breaking out between the God Squad and the Demon SWAT team is high. That’s an incredibly bad idea.”

“I didn’t suggest it, Satan did. I didn’t even know all that crap existed until tonight. Do you want me to summon Satan back here? Shit.” I shuddered. “He’s on a date right now with some woman named Esmeralda. There’s a slim but terrifying chance if I call him back he’ll bring her. She’s violent,” I explained to Ethan as I realized my own nookie plans were looking pretty dismal.

“I’m not even going to touch that one,” Ethan grumbled.

“Right,” I muttered trying to block out the image I’d just conjured up. “What should we do?”

“We wait,” Ethan stated pragmatically. “However, I want a heads up before the God Squad gets involved.”

“No worries. If we tell Charles, Satan will hear it,” I replied surprised to find myself somewhat relived that my uncle had planted a bug—or monster, as it were—in our house. It was way easier than summoning him and lessened the chances of losing more furniture considerably.

“Expound on Charles again please,” Ethan said as he stared at the ceiling.

Never a good sign.

“Well, um… he’s got three heads and an alarming voice. He’s afraid of the dark and he won’t bite your face off if you kiss him. And he’s sort of cute in a buttass ugly kind of way.”

“No, Astrid,” Ethan cut me off. “We are not keeping Charles. He’s Satan’s spy.”

“But he cried,” I reasoned, sounding like an idiot even to my own ears. “All three of his hideous heads sobbed and I felt bad.”

“Dear God,” Ethan groaned. “We already have a baboon.”

“And the Baby Demons,” I reminded him.

“Yes, and the Baby Demons,” he agreed with a wince.

“And Martha and Jane,” I whispered in a tiny voice wanting to get it all out on the table before I negotiated keeping Charles.

“Getting a little ill here,” Ethan said.

“Look, he doesn’t eat anything except anger. I’m guessing you can’t poop out anger, so that means we don’t have to potty train him. Hell, if Charles wasn’t potty trained your office would have smelled like a toilet for months. That’s a real plus,” I said in a bright tone with a forced smile as I gamely fluffed the decorative navy pillows on the bed.

If the look on my beautiful mate’s face was anything to go by, he wasn’t buying what I was selling. Shit.

“Okay, fine. Charles is seriously gross—and I mean seriously—but if we don’t keep him Satan threatened to send some of the Sins here to protect Samuel.”

“Unacceptable,” Ethan grunted with an expression of horror marring his handsome face.

“My feelings exactly. Charles is a far lesser evil—at least I think he is. I say we keep him. Plus we can send messages to Satan through Charles which means Satan won’t be around as much. If he’s not here he can’t pilfer your office supplies and there will be fewer explosions in the compound.”

“You’ve got this all figured out, don’t you my love?” Ethan asked with a chuckle and an exasperated shake of his head.

“Actually, I just pulled all of it right out of my ass, but it did sound pretty good if I do say so myself,” I shot back with a cocky grin.

“Fine. We keep Charles for the time being, but if he causes any destruction or bites anyone, he’s gone.”

“Fair enough,” I said with a seductive grin, desperate to change the subject. “Can we stop talking about three headed monsters and move on to a one eyed snake?”

“Your way with words never ceases to alarm me. However, the sentiment is something I can get on board with,” he said. His eyes began to glow green with desire and his fangs dropped.

“God, you are so hot,” I yelled as I whipped my dress over my head and tossed it on the floor. “I want to make this a loud one.”

“I can work with that,” Ethan said as he tore off his shirt, ripping it in two.

In a flurry of flying clothing, laughter and grab-ass we made it to the bed—hot and very, very bothered.

“I love you,” I whispered into his mouth as his tongue caressed my bottom lip.

“Back at you,” he murmured huskily, running his open mouth from my lips to my collarbone making little stars burst across my vision.

“Should we play a game?” I whispered. I arched my back giving him much better access to the girls.

“”What did you have in mind?” he asked as he nipped at my breast with his fangs eliciting whimpers from deep in my throat.

“Um, how about… Wait. What the Hell was that?” I demanded sitting up and glancing around the large suite.

“Not familiar with that game,” Ethan said as he pulled me back down and went back to work worshiping my body.

“No seriously,” I said as I sat back up and quickly covered his God-Bod with the thick down comforter. “Someone is at the door.”

“Are you expecting a guest?” he asked clearly unhappy that ‘Wait. What the Hell was that?’ wasn’t a game involving foreplay, penetration or a blowjob.

“I’m not expecting anyone. Are you?” I asked with narrowed eyes as the knocking grew bolder.

“Are you serious?” he demanded.

“No,” I said sheepishly. I knew he was all mine. I was a jealous sort, but I wasn’t a dumbass. “But someone is at the door. Do you think it’s Mary-Harry-Larry-Scary?”

“If it is, she’s going to be headless shortly,” he growled.

“That is so fucking sexy,” I squealed as I jumped up, dragging the comforter and wrapping it around my naked body to answer the door. “Put the sheet over your Johnson. That’s my Johnson. No one else is allowed to see that behemoth.”

The really bad part of me was hoping it was Mary-Larry. I was prepared to drop the comforter and converse buck-ass naked with her while Ethan lay on the bed with the sheet tented up like he was posing for a porno. I wouldn’t let Ethan remove her head because that was wrong. However, if she didn’t give up soon, I’d be very tempted to have a go at her noggin.

Opening the door with a flourish and a very put out expression on my face, I was ready to rip Harry-Scary a new one only to be struck dumb by the nerdiest looking Angel I’d ever laid eyes on. He had curly red hair, a dad-body and a face full of freckles. WTF? It was midnight on a Sunday and I was in a guest room that was supposed to be empty. Who was this Heavenly dork looking for?

“Who the Hell are you?” I snapped as surprised as he seemed to be.

“Are you Astrid?” he asked, pushing his horn rimmed glasses up on his nose.

“Maybe,” I answered cagily, wrapping the comforter tighter around my body. “Who’s looking for her?”

“I’m Jeff,” he replied and put out a hand in greeting. “I’m here for your premarital counseling.”

“Astrid’s not here,” I lied with a smile, refusing to accept his outstretched hand. “She’s on vacation until next year.”

“Astrid, who’s at the door?” Ethan called out as he pulled his pants on and walked over.

“Um…” I stuttered, totally busted. “It’s Jeff.”

“Who the Hell is Jeff and why is he here in the middle of the night?” Ethan demanded as he opened the door wider and gave Jeff a vicious glare.

I had a bad feeling we were not going to get a good grade on our counseling…

“Hello,” Jeff said warmly with his hand still hanging mid-air. “You must be Ethan. It’s a pleasure to meet you both. I’m your premarital counselor. We’ll just get right down to it and be finished in a jiffy.”

Jeff walked into the suite with a spring in his dorky step and tsked disapprovingly at the clothing littering the floor. He practically skipped over to the navy chenille couch and made himself comfortable. Pulling out a notebook and a thick folder from a briefcase that poofed from out of thin air, he waved us over to the two chairs facing him.

“Tell you whatsy,” he said as he closed his eyes and bowed his head. “Why don’t you two lovebirds get dressed and we can begin?”

Ethan and I stood open mouthed as Jeff hummed a little ditty and waited for us to obey his order. I’d never wanted to sigh in defeat as much as I wanted to right now.

“We may as well get it over with,” I whispered to a befuddled Ethan as I quickly pulled my dress over my head and handed Ethan both pieces of his shirt.

“You can’t be serious,” he said, tossing the ripped shirt back to the floor. “It’s the middle of the night. Jeff can come back at a decent hour for his interrogation.”

“Actually,” Jeff chimed in happily with his eyes firmly shut. “It’s not an interrogation at all. It’s just a few thoughtful questions to make sure you two kids are ready to ball and chain it.”

“Kids?” Ethan hissed under his breath.

“Just go with it. Pissing off Uncle God is not on my to-do list. Please? I’ll make it worth it,” I promised with a weak smile.

With a frustrated shake of his head, Ethan held out his hand and led me to the chair. “I really, really love you,” he said with a grimace. “This was definitely not on my to-do list.”

“Are we ready?” Jeff sang as he opened one eye, making sure we were clothed.

“No,” Ethan said grumpily. “You have a half hour to get this nonsense done. Am I clear?”

“Yepperoonie!” Jeff said, clapping his hands together and spreading his paperwork all over the table. “Let’s start with how long you’ve know each other.”

“A little over a year,” I replied tensely, hoping that was the right answer.

Shitballs, what if we didn’t pass? My stomach roiled at the thought of failing the marriage test.

“Very good,” Jeff congratulated me and wrote something down on his pad. “What about the family?”

“What about them?” Ethan asked politely, clearly feeling my stress and trying to play nice with the Angel.

“How do you feel about Astrid’s family?”

And the silence was loaded—and long.

“I’d like to pass on that one,” Ethan replied, looking to me for approval.

I gave him a covert thumbs up and prayed that taking the fifth was allowed. I wasn’t even sure if I could say I liked my family and I certainly didn’t expect Ethan to.

“Interesting,” Jeff commented as he scribbled away in his damned notebook.

Shit.

“Astrid, will you be taking Ethan’s last name or keeping your own?”

I froze in terror. Fuckityfuckfuck. I didn’t even know Ethan’s last name. How in the fucking Hell did I not know my mate’s last name? We would certainly get a big fat hairy F for this one.

“Well,” I choked out, gaping at Ethan for help.

“I go by Ethan, Warrior Prince of the North American Dominion,” he supplied quickly with a helpless shrug.

“Is that a joke?” I asked.

“No, it’s not,” Ethan shot back indignantly. “Do you have a problem with it?”

“Actually, yes I do,” I snapped. “Do you seriously expect me to call myself Astrid Warrior Prince of the North American Dominion? How in the Hell am I supposed to get anything monogramed with that kind of bullshit name?”

“You will be Warrior Princess of the North American Dominion—not Prince,” Ethan corrected me thinking that would make it better.

He couldn’t have been more wrong.

“Dude, that’s not a last name. It’s a nightmare. That won’t even fit on a driver’s license,” I told him as my fingers began to spark. “That can’t possibly be your last name.”

“I’m over five hundred years old,” he growled. “We didn’t have last names back then. We had titles.”

“Then you can take my last name,” I said as I noticed Jeff’s head ping-ponging back and forth watching us with horrified interest.

Again, shitshitshitfuckballshit.

“Not happening,” Ethan stated firmly.

“My, my, my, you’re certainly sexist,” Jeff said.

“Are you hitting on me?” Ethan ground out as Jeff blanched and slid down the couch, closer to the door.

“He said sexist, not sexy,” I informed my mate with a groan of mortification.

“Sorry, my bad,” Ethan said with an annoyed shrug. “This is ridiculous. We shall do this another time—like never.”

Jeff shuffled his papers and raised his bushy red brows in displeasure. Ethan and I sat silently and watched him contort his eyebrows for the better part of a minute. My stomach churned and I was fairly sure terror was written all over my face. As silly as this was, it was part of the process of getting married—at least I thought it was. I’d never been married before…

“As difficult as this is, we must do it tonight. With the wedding taking place this coming Saturday we have to get it done,” Jeff informed us as he jotted a few more notes.

“Back the fuck up,” I shouted. “What do you mean the wedding is this Saturday? No one told me that.”

“I was informed it was Saturday,” Jeff said, pushing his glasses up on his nose and frantically searching through his paperwork for confirmation. “Yes! Here it is. You are to be married on Saturday in… wait. That can’t be right.”

“What?” I yelled, wondering what other fresh Hell awaited me in the evil pile of paperwork.

“It says you’re getting married in the Devil’s Den. This must be a mistake.” Jeff wrung his hands and pulled out a cell phone.

“It’s correct.” I stopped Jeff before he called in an army of nerdy Angels to discuss the venue.

“The Devil has a den?” Ethan demanded, totally over the entire thing. “I thought we were at least married in the damned Palace.”

“We are,” I snapped. “Devil’s Den is just another name for Hell. Isn’t it?” I turned my attention to a very uncomfortable Jeff.

He nodded, clearly too shocked to speak.

“Listen,” I said as politely as I could, hoping we still had a chance to pass the ball and chain exam. “I cut a deal with Satan to close the portals that the douchecanoe Demons were pouring out of. My fist choice for the wedding was here at the Cressida House, but Satan is a crafty motherfucker so I had to agree to Hell.”

“I see,” Jeff said primly with his fingers steepled piously.

I was unsure if he was more offended by my colorful language or the fact I was tying the knot Down Under.

“Why don’t we get back to the thoughtful questions?” I begged.

I didn’t want Jeff here, but I really didn’t want him to leave. Failing was not an option.

“I’ll take Ethan’s shitty last name. Okay? Will that raise our grade?” I asked Jeff with a smile that resembled a grimace.

“No. I’ll take your last name,” Ethan volunteered.

“You would?” I asked surprised, glancing over at the love of my life with total adoration.

“Will it get me laid?” he inquired with a smirk.

“It will get you so laid,” I promised.

“About that,” Jeff cut in, clearing his throat loudly and turning an ungodly shade of purple. “That’s a big noperoonie. No-No.”

“What is?” Ethan asked in a voice so low and menacing I considered scooting closer to the door.

“S-E-X,” Jeff whispered and then glanced around warily as if he might get struck down by a bolt of lightning.

He didn’t have to worry about lightning, I was about to smite his freckled ass through the roof.

“Jeff, we’re already mated,” I said in what I prayed passed for a reasonable tone. However, I was pretty sure I might have been baring my fangs at him. “The wedding is more of a formality because I wanted a human ceremony. We already have a child.”

“Yes, I saw that in the file,” Jeff said with disapproval heavy in his tone. “Which leads me to the next question. Are you using the rhythm method?”

“We have good rhythm,” I replied carefully, not knowing what the Hell he was talking about.

How did a celibate Angel know sex terms I didn’t? I wasn’t about to let the nerdy virgin fail me for not knowing how to screw. I knew how to do the nasty and I was good at it—or at least I knew how to enjoy it and made damn sure Ethan did too.

“I mean sometimes it’s fast and sometimes it slow, but generally it’s very even. The beginning starts out a bit slower and then when we get close to the big O, it can get wild. Occasionally we break furniture, but not that often. Ethan is um… very… well endowed but that makes the rhythm much nicer and you know… bouncier. We don’t actually sing or anything, but we are noisy, y’know if that helps. Ethan says I’m a screamer and I’d have to concur with that one. Wouldn’t you agree, Ethan?”

Ethan was an assbucket and no help at all as he was bent forward, laughing hysterically. Jeff had gone an even deeper shade of purple and was gulping for air. It was at that point I realized rhythm had an entirely different meaning than I’d assumed.

Never fucking assume…

“We’re done,” I ground out through clenched teeth, reeling with embarrassment. I still had no clue what rhythm meant, but at this point I really didn’t care. I wanted Jeff gone and I wanted to throat punch Ethan.

“Rhythm is a form of birth control,” Jeff wheezed as he quickly shoved all of his paperwork back in his briefcase. “You should pick a form of birth control if you want to do family planning.”

“I’m dead, you imbecile,” I shouted, kicking a still laughing Ethan. “I can’t get pregnant.”

“Um…” Jeff scratched his head in confusion. “Did you adopt your child?”

I paused and let his question sink in. Ethan stopped laughing and stared at Jeff in surprise.

“No, it was prophecy—I’m the Chosen One. I shouldn’t have been able to have a child, but I did,” I told him.

“I see,” Jeff said. “What’s to say you couldn’t get pregnant again?”

“I don’t believe another child is in the prophecy,” Ethan said with a thoughtful expression.

“Is the prophecy complete?” Jeff questioned logically. “Most are written in dead languages and difficult to decipher.”

“Fine point. Well made,” Ethan said to Jeff who preened like a girl under my mate’s praise. “I’ll have to speak with my father.”

“Whoa,” I cut into the love-fest. “I could get knocked up again?”

I adored my baby with every fiber of my body, but being pregnant sucked.

“I don’t know,” Jeff said. “But taking a precaution like rhythm, condoms or abstention would be wise if you’re not ready to expand your family.”

Ethan’s loud groan let everyone know loud and clear his opinion on the matter.

“Does rhythm work?” I inquired still not knowing how in the Hell to do it, but the other options weren’t very appealing.

Jeff paused and thought for a long moment—too long. “The Catholics seem keen on the rhythm method,” he replied without making a lick of eye contact.

Not really a good sign.

“Nuff said,” I whispered, remembering all my Catholic buddies with enormous families.

“Are we done yet?” Ethan asked rudely, clearly ready to physically punt Jeff from the compound.

“Almost. Can I ask a question?” I inquired in a small voice as I felt my brain and emotions breakdancing inside my body.

“Please do,” Jeff said warmly as he stood to leave.

“Did we pass?”

Jeff considered his answer carefully as Ethan and I sat forward in our chairs.

“Kind of,” Jeff informed us with pursed lips. “As long as you wait until after you’re married to have relations, I can pass you.”

“Just so I don’t fuck this up—no pun intended—by relations, you mean sex. Right?” I asked what I thought was a totally reasonable question since rhythm apparently had several definitions.

“This is ludicrous,” Ethan snapped as his fangs dropped with displeasure. “We’re a mated Vampyre couple. We have sex daily.”

“Several times a day,” I corrected him.

Jeff’s slack mouthed reaction didn’t bode well. “Yes… well, you’re not married in the eyes of your Uncle God, so to pass, you have to abstain until Saturday. That shouldn’t be too hard.”

“Pun intended?” I chimed in to a now very pale Jeff.

“Absolutely not,” Jeff huffed. “Any other questions.”

“Is dry humping cheating?” I mumbled, wanting to sink into the floor and die. Being that I was already dead, that wasn’t an option.

“I will deny saying this,” Jeff replied cautiously as he glanced around the room searching for for cameras or spies. “But that’s fine.”

I looked at Ethan and Ethan looked at me. He was not a happy camper and neither was I, but if we were going to do this… we were going to do it right. We could go without sex for five days. Hell, I was going to be so busy trying to pull a wedding out of my butt I wouldn’t even realize we weren’t playing hide the salami.

Yeah… right.

Chapter 9

“Houston, we have a problem,” I said as I contemplated throwing a massive hissy fit.

Jeff had poofed away in a blast of silver and white glitter and Ethan and I were left mulling over the new no-sex rule. Honestly, I was still secretly still trying to figure out how rhythm worked.

“And what could that possibly be?” Ethan asked in a voice laced with sarcasm.

“Don’t be a dick,” I snapped, desperately trying to find the positive. “It’s five days. Granted it’s going to be the five longest days of our lives, but just think how amazeballingly insane the sex will be on Saturday night after the wedding?”

“Fine, Astrid,” Ethan said with a sad shake of his head and then perked up. “Do you think oral is off limits?”

“Probably,” I said forlornly. “But I’ll ask.”

“Who? Jeff?”

“Who else would I ask?” I demanded, wanting to blast something in the room to smithereens.

“Don’t bother. The question might kill him.”

“True,” I agreed and burned a small hole in the carpet just to feel better.

We sat in mopey silence imagining life without sex. It was a very sad moment.

“Oh my Uncle God,” I gasped out. “We were supposed to have loud sex to put Mary-Scary-Harry in her place.”

Ethan shrugged and gave me the eyeball.

I jumped up and paced the room in agitation. I was not going to watch Mary-Larry flirt with my man. Killing her out of jealousy was not a compassionate thing to do. I was a compassionate, good person—kind of. How else could I put the horny skank in her place?

“We’ll fake it,” I insisted with satisfaction. “We’ll just yell and throw shit around the room. Maybe if we really get into it, we can break the bed. You ready?”

“To have fake loud sex with you?” Ethan asked with his brows raised so high I was certain they might touch his hairline.

“Yessssss,” I hissed. “It’s not breaking any rules and it will shut Scary-Larry up. I would totally do it for you.”

Ethan laughed and sat back down on the couch. “Astrid, you have changed my life dramatically. Never in my years did I think I would agree to fake loud sex. The bizarre concept had never even crossed my mind. However, I would kill for you, so I suppose playing at bad porno will work. How do we do this?”

“Look at it like phone sex with lots of movement.”

“But you always laugh when we try to have phone sex,” Ethan reasoned with a sexy lopsided grin.

“Point,” I agreed wanting to jump him and ride him like a cowboy. “I’ll do my damnedest not to laugh. Just like grunt and moan and yell shit like faster and oh my God your tits are spectacular. Okay?”

“Will do,” Ethan said as he went to disrobe.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Getting naked for fake sex.”

“You don’t get real naked for fake sex. You get fake naked. If you get real naked, we’ll have real sex, and we’ll fail the freakin’ wedding test. I don’t want to fail.”

“What happens if we flunk the exam?” Ethan asked as he halted his strip show.

“Um… I don’t know, but I want to get married. I know it’s dumb and human and beneath all that’s Vampyre, but…”

“I want to marry you too, Astrid,” Ethan said as he crossed the room and gently took me into his strong arms. “Nothing would make me more proud than to be both your mate and your husband.”

“Really?” I whispered with my face buried in his chest.

“Really,” he promised. “We shall wait because it’s important to you. I waited for you for hundreds of years. Five days will not kill me.”

“You’re already dead,” I mumbled with a giggle. “Your argument is moot.”

“You are correct, beautiful girl. You ready?”

“For what?” I asked snuggling closer. My need for him surpassed the physical, crawling inside of him couldn’t get me close enough.

“Oh my God!” he shouted, startling the ever loving Hell out of me. “Do that again, baby. Yeah, right there.”

I laughed so hard I almost choked as he sprinted across the room and slammed his body against the wall taking down a lamp and several pictures off the wall. My man never went about anything half way.

“Oh Ethan,” I squealed as I picked up a vase and hurled it across the room. “Don’t stop. I think I’m blind. Your Johnson is sooooooooo huge!”

“Don’t call it a Johnson,” he whispered trying not to laugh.

“What should I call it?” I whispered back, grinning so hard it hurt.

“Humongous love stick,” he informed me as he held on to the wall so he didn’t drop to the floor in hysterics.

“Ohmygodohmygodohmygod,” I shouted turning away from him so I could get it out. “Your porksword is enormous. Impale me. NOW!”

“Holy shit,” he muttered quietly as he banged his head against the wall. “That was fucking awful.”

“No it wasn’t,” I hissed and then cackled. “It was awful. Let me try again.”

“Be my guest. How could it get worse?”

“Just wait,” I shot back as I banged on the wall and wracked my brain. “Do me with your giant sized man tool. That’s right, you sex god. Take that anaconda and let me know who’s boss. Oooooooooooo baby, do me good with that trouser meat. YES,” I screamed and then fell to the ground laughing so hard I was crying.

“Jesus,” Ethan grumbled as he crawled over to me. “That was unimaginably worse. You win.”

“This is not going to accomplish what I was hoping to get done,” I choked out as I tried to control my laughter.

“I disagree. Anyone who happens to overhear this—which sadly is probably everyone—will know that we’re a happily mated couple with some alarming kinks and a screwed up sense of humor. I would assume this episode will let Mary know she is not in the running for anything.”

“You think?”

“Astrid, it doesn’t matter. No one is in the running. You’re it for me. Period,” he replied with a smile as he brushed my wild dark locks from my face. “I love you so much it’s unexplainable. I had nothing before I had you—no laughter, no real love.”

“No child,” I added, not laughing anymore. “You’re everything to me. And you know what? I don’t need to make Mary feel awful. She does a fine job of that herself. You’re mine and I’m yours. Just promise me if we’re going to see someone you banged in the past that you’ll give me a heads up.”

“Pun intended?”

“Yep,” I said with a laugh. “Deal?”

“Deal,” he replied as he kissed me with so much adoration my tears started again. “You wanna go back to our own suite and get some shut eye?”

“I do.”

“I like those words,” he said with a sly grin that melted my heart.

“That’s a very good thing,” I said as I took his offered hand and got to my feet. “Because you’re going to be hearing them again on Saturday.”

“And I do believe I will be saying them too,” he added as we left the destroyed suite and headed up stairs.

With a little squeal, I wrapped my arms around his huge frame and hugged him tight. “Oh Ethan, I can’t wait.”

“Neither can I, my love. Neither can I.”

***

“Is this a fucking joke?” Pam whispered to me as we watched three gay Demons dressed like the Construction Worker from Village People do a kick line to a song from the musical Cats.

“Dear God, I hope so,” I muttered. I pressed at my temples and tried to smile at the horrendous show taking place in Ethan’s office.

Eight in the morning was entirely too early for this shit.

I sat with a shocked Gemma, Venus, Dixie, Paris Hilton, Raquel and Pam in a line of chairs in front of Ethan’s new desk. We were being entertained—for lack of a more appropriate word—by the three Demons that Satan had sent to audition for the role of wedding planner.

My bridesmaids were speechless—even Dixie who knew these Demons from her childhood in Hell. They’d made an enormous show of respect for my cousin as she was a Princess of the Underworld. However, the bowing and scraping had turned into a sort of twerking contest. Dixie, who was as appalled as the rest of us, politely but firmly insisted they get to the business they’d come for before the adulation turned into a strip show.

“Sooooo,” Doug, the most rotund of the trio, said as he clapped his hands wildly making his hard-hat tilt jauntily to the left. “Which one of us do you like the best?”

“Um… I’m supposed to choose a wedding planner from a kick line?” I asked as I bit down on my lips to hold back the stream of obscenities that were trying to burst forth.

“Well, yes,” Doug confirmed with jazz hands.

“Well, no,” I shot back as I stood and did a little spin to make sure he knew I meant business. “You all need to tell me how you would plan my wedding.”

“Really?” Seamus asked, surprised.

“Yes, really,” I snapped. “How am I supposed to know if you know an invitation from a place card if the only thing I see as proof of your skills is a shitty dance contest?”

“Well, I’ve never,” Chauncey huffed as he picked up the boom box, flipped me off and disappeared in a cloud of smelly black smoke.

“You’ve narrowed it down to two,” Pam congratulated me with a guffaw. “Keep insulting them and we’ll have a winner pretty damn quick.”

“Oh my Hell, this is unbelievable. Do either of you douchebutts know anything about planning a wedding?”

“He does,” Seamus and Doug said simultaneously pointed at the other.

“That’s just fanfuckingtastic,” I shouted. “I’m getting married on Saturday and I could use some help here.”

“This Saturday?” Seamus asked with wide eyes and a worried expression.

“Yes. Saturday—five days away,” I said as I righted Charles from his prone position on the coffee table.

Charles had obviously had a good night’s sleep if his purring was anything to go by. All three of his unfortunate looking heads licked my hands and smiled at me. I winked and faced him toward the Demons so he could help me decide—or at least show Satan what a shitshow his plan was.

“Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh, I can’t do it this Saturday. I’m getting all my teeth pulled,” Seamus informed the room with great regret.

“Not touching that one,” I muttered as I hung my head. “This is a clusterfuck.”

“I’ll say,” Pam chimed in with an enormous eye roll.

“I’m pretty sure you just rolled your eyes so hard you checked out your own ass,” I snapped.

“Is that possible?” Seamus asked rolling his eyes around in the sockets.

“No. It’s not possible,” I said wearily, pulling on my hair and wondering how upset everyone would be if Ethan and I eloped.

“Actually it issssssssssss,” Charles said with a rather gruesome show of proof as he whistled in appreciation at his ass followed by a loud self-slap of said ass.

The rest of my bridesmaids were still mute from the kick line or possibly from learning that Seamus was getting all of his teeth removed for some bizarre reason which I never wanted to know. Or the fact that Charles just performed a lewd act that should get him either arrested or institutionalized, possibly both. However, Doug was wildly impressed with Charles and clapped in astonishment. That only left Seamus who was still trying roll his eyes enough to stare at his own ass.

“Doug,” I said through gritted teeth. “Does Saturday work for you?”

“Yes! It will be fabu! Lots of dancing and… dancing!” he squealed so loudly I slapped my hands over my ears to protect my eardrums.

“What about a cake, the dinner menu, seating charts, the service…” I ticked off my list and waited.

“What about them?” Doug asked, perplexed.

“Do you know how to arrange any of that?”

“No. But I can get REO Speedwagon to play at the reception!” he informed me while doing a jazz square followed by a gag inducing pelvic thrust.

And that’s when Charles—or rather Satan, through Charles—stopped appreciating his own ass and got involved.

All three of Charles’ little ugly heads spun like tops on his lumpy monster body. He sparked and hissed like a madman from the bowels of Hell. My girls flew from their chairs and plastered themselves against the walls hoping for the best and expecting the worst.

“Sataaaaaaaaaan no want REO Speeeeeeeeedwagooon. Satan waaaant Journeeeeeeey, you asshumping cankeeeeer sore,” Charles bellowed in his Gollum voice.

“Charles, calm down,” I yelled as smoke began to billow out of every orifice he had.

“NOOOOOO,” he hissed. “Charles maaaaaaad.”

Before I could blink an eye or even make a move to zap Charles into submission, Charles spit something wildly unappealing at Doug and the Demon turned into a goopy pile of gelatinous crap. Seamus, wanting no part of this—not to mention he was unavailable on account of his upcoming dental work—zapped his butt out of there so fast I got dizzy.

Charles, seeing his work here was done, turned back into the unattractively cute statue I’d stupidly adopted.

“Charles,” I growled as I grabbed him and got in his faces. “If you ever do something like that again, I will blast your stone ass into a million pieces. No one deserves to die for liking REO Speedwagon. Do you understand me?”

“Well, I don’t know about that,” Pam chimed in.

“Not helping here,” I hissed at her.

“Meeeeee sorry,” Charles whimpered as he hung his heads and started to cry. “You waaaaaant me to bring him baaaaaack?”

“You can do that?” I asked, shocked.

“Yesssssss,” he replied. “Meeeee just turnnnned him into poooooop. Fat Demon Doug is stiiiiiilllllll in there.”

“He’s in the poop?” I cautiously walked over to look at the big glob on the floor and sure enough Doug’s round face was staring up at me.

It was all kinds of disgusting and I knew if I shared this with Ethan, Charles was so gone.

“Holy shit—pun intended,” Gemma said as she examined the pile on the floor. “He really is in there. Or at least his face is.”

“Dude,” Venus said on a gag. “That is gross.”

“I’m gonna hurl,” Paris Hilton choked out, slapping her hands over her mouth.

“You can’t. You’re a Vampyre,” I snapped, feeling as close to puking as I ever had.

“Damn it, you’re right,” Paris shrieked, going paler than she already was.

“I can fix this,” Dixie said as she stepped up and studied the Doug poo pile. “Charles you tell my father this is unacceptable. Doug will need years of therapy after this.”

“Heeeeee can hearrrrrr you,” Charles told Dixie.

“Are you a portal to my father?” she asked, surprised.

“Nooooooo, just a spyyyyyyyy,” he explained.

“Lovely,” she muttered, verbalizing my feelings exactly.

Ethan was right. I couldn’t keep Charles. He was a fucking menace.

With a wave of her hands, red and purple fire consumed the goopy lump on the floor. Dixie chanted something in a dead language that I was semi-able to understand and Doug reappeared. Of course he was covered in a jelly-like substance and buck ass naked, but at least he was alive—traumatized—but breathing.

“I’d like to disqualify myself from the position,” Doug said with teeth chattering and abject fear written all over his chubby face.

I didn’t blame him.

“Did you really think you could do the job in the first place?” I asked as I flopped down on the couch and did everything I could do not to cry.

“I didn’t really even consider that,” Doug said with an apologetic shrug. “I was just excited to dance in public. I’ve never seen a wedding in my life. Most Demons haven’t.”

“He’s right,” Dixie said as she waved her hands, cleaning and clothing Doug. “These Demons were born in Hell and have no real clue what human traditions are like. I have no idea what my father was thinking.”

“I’m really sorry,” Fat Demon Doug said as he sat down next to me and patted my back in despair.

“Meeeeee think Saaaatan just want to think heeeeeee in chaaaarge, so heeeee send a Deeeeemooon to ruuuun the shoooow,” Charles explained.

“Did the Devil just hear you say that?” I asked getting ready to hunker down if Satan blew up the compound because of Charles’ insolence.

“Noooooooo,” Charles said and then giggled. “Meeee can turn it on and oooofffffffffff.”

“Interesting. Can I trust you?” I asked the stone trouble-maker.

“Deeeeefine trust,” he replied.

“Fuck,” I mumbled as I dropped my head into my hands and wondered what in the Hell to do.

“Charles, I command your allegiance to me and Astrid,” Dixie said as she made a circle in the air with her fingers and sparkling magenta glitter burst from the tips.

Charles wobbled and groaned a bit then burped loudly—thankfully nothing was expelled. “Yes, myyyyyy liege,” he grunted with a happy squeal.

“You will no longer report to my father. You are simply a talking, um… little monster dude who knows everything about planning a human wedding. Am I clear?” Dixie asked as she continued to conjure magic.

“Yesssssssss!”

“All fixed,” Dixie said with a grin. “You have a wedding planner—albeit a slightly non-traditional one—and Dad will have no idea what’s going on. Win-win.”

“Do you want me to stay and help?” Doug asked sweetly looking like an excited child—with horns and a beer belly. “I am good with dancing. Maybe I can coach you and the groom on the first dance.”

“That would be a…” I stuttered wanting to say clusterfuck, but he was so innocently hopeful I didn’t have the heart to hurt him. “Wonderful idea,” I choked out as Pam and the rest of the bridesmaids tried unsuccessfully to hide their laughter.

“Thiiiissss will beeeeee a fabuloussssss wedding,” Charles bellowed, as Doug danced wildly around the room and my girls stopped trying to hide their giggles.

“Well,” I said giving into the wince-smile that pulled at my lips. “It will definitely be a wedding no one will forget.”

Shitshitshit.

Chapter 10

“Then the magical little boy decided that turning everyone’s skin different colors at his mommy and daddy’s wedding was a very, very, very bad idea, so he didn’t do it. The end,” I said as I hugged my giggling son tight in my arms.

My baby’s blue eyes were sleepy as he’d just woken up from his morning nap and he smelled like heaven. Colorful toys and stuffed animals of every sort were strewn all over the bright, cheery, yellow nursery with dinosaur scenes painted on the walls. It was all kinds of perfect. I glanced up at the sky blue ceiling with puffy white clouds and a sun peeking out from the corner and smiled. Running my fingers through his curls made me forget about the bizarre morning.

“Mommy, me know what you’re doing,” Samuel said, stroking my face and planting a wet kiss on my cheek.

“What am I doing?” I asked with faux innocence as I returned the smooch with great pleasure.

“You is making sure that me be a good boy in Hell,” he replied with a mischievous little grin.

“Possibly,” I agreed with a smile, pulling a Superman t-shirt over his head and then trying to tame his wild blond curls.

I stared at my baby and a teeny tiny eeny weenie part of me wished I could give him a sister or a brother. Yes, pregnancy sucked, but the prize at the end was worth every craving, ache and pain I’d had. The debatably rational side of my brain knew it would never happen, but…

“How bout this,” Samuel suggested with an adorably evil little smirk as he pulled off the Superman t-shirt and replaced it with a Napoleon Dynamite one. “How bout me be a good boy and we get a baboon friend for Blobbityflonk?”

“Hmmm, interesting,” I replied, squinting at my little deal-maker. “Two questions. Are you blackmailing your mommy and have you watched the movie Napoleon Dynamite?”

Samuel clasped his small hands together and gave me a mini eye roll—very reminiscent of his father. It was all I could do not to laugh. He was perfect and mine. Granted, my son was one powerful little sucker, but he was still my baby.

“Me no blackmail you, mommy,” Samuel explained seriously, pointing a chubby finger in my face and pressing on my nose. “Me see an opening and me take it. And yes, the Baby Demons showed me the movie.”

“Figures,” I muttered as I scooped him up and tossed him in the air, much to his great delight. He was getting bigger by the day, but my Vampyre strength came in very handy when playing with my child.

“Okaaaaaaay,” my little man said, regrouping his tactics. “How bout me no turn people purple if mommy say no potty words at wedding?”

“That’s a very dangerous deal on my part,” I said as I wrinkled my nose and realized we might be in the market for a new baboon. “Mommy is working very hard to correct her, um… habit… but sometimes I mess up.”

“It’s okay, mommy,” Samuel assured me with adoration shining from his eyes. “You a good mommy even though you say poopy bad words.”

I stilled and felt like I wanted to cry. I was a good mom. I loved my child and I told him so everyday. I’d never had that kind of love from my mother and I made damn sure Samuel knew how I felt about him. I was only a semi-pushover where he was concerned and I would die for him in a heartbeat.

My baby counted on me and I had every intention of being there for him until the end of time. Considering we were immortal, the end of time was accurate. Why in the fucking Hell couldn’t I stop swearing for him? What was wrong with me? Was he going to incur huge therapy bills because of my sailor’s mouth? Hell, that was probably the least of our problems where the need for therapy was concerned. With a dysfunctional family consisting of Satan, Mother Nature, Demons, Vampyres and Angels galore, it was a good thing we had a bunch of money. Samuel’s head shrinking bills were going to be enormous in the near future.

“It’s a deal,” I said before I could think too hard about the reality of what I’d just agreed to. “Mommy will not say one poopy word at the wedding and you will refrain from altering the color of the guest’s skin.”

“I’m sorry,” Ethan said as he entered the nursery and stopped dead in his tracks. “What was that?”

“Mommy no say fucker and me no turn people green at the wedding!” Samuel announced to his shocked father with glee.

For one of the most powerful Vampyres in the world, my beautiful mate was at a total loss for what to do. He could take down armies, but raising a child was a Hell of a lot harder, especially with me as his baby’s mother.

Crapballs.

“Samuel, if I can’t say fucker, you cannot say fucker. In fact, you can’t say fucker ever. Clear?” I said trying to gain back some ground by sounding responsible even though I’d just used the word fucker twice in a sentence.

“Dear God,” Ethan said as he pressed his temples and closed his eyes. “And if mommy drops a potty word at the nuptials our guests get rainbow skin?”

“No, silly daddy. If mommy has poop mouth, me get another baboon!”

“And the day gets better,” Ethan said as he grabbed our son and buried his nose in his hair.

“What do you mean by better?” I asked warily.

“Well,” Ethan said, putting Samuel down in front of his train set and getting comfortable on the couch. “I’ve been running from an obese Demon named Doug for the last hour who insists that he’s supposed to teach me to dance. He’s very fortunate he’s still alive.”

I nodded my head and gave Ethan a weak smile.

“As if that wasn’t enough to start the day right, your grandmother is here with cakes—wedding cakes to be precise. The visiting male Vampyres have made repeated mentions of my porksword and several more portals have reopened,” he finished with a frown marring his handsome face.

“What’s a porksword?” Samuel asked as he zoomed his trains around the track with a combination of magic and his hands.

“It’s um…” Ethan replied with a wince and a terrified glance thrown my way.

“It’s a, um…very sharp, and you know… dangerous weapon that a pirate uses,” I blurted out attempting to save the day. “But it is a secret, kind of mystical and rare-ish weapon made by um, pirate ghosts and it’s best not to talk about it. At all. Ever.”

Ethan shot me a horrified look and I shrugged helplessly. At least I tried.

Samuel stopped what he was doing and glanced over at his unfit parental units. He put his little fingers on his chin and pursed his lips. “It’s a poop word, isn’t it?”

The silence was loud.

“Yes. Yes it is,” Ethan admitted, running his hands through his hair with a groan. “No pirates involved. I’m sorry. I’ll try to do better with that in the future, my little man.”

“It’s okay, my daddy. The more you guys mess up the closer me is to getting another baboon.”

“He really is brilliant,” I whispered to Ethan as Samuel went back to his trains.

“He is,” Ethan said as he stared at his child with pride. “I’m over five hundred years old and he can best me.”

“Holy Hell, I can’t even imagine what he’ll be like as a teenager,” I said with a shudder.

“Bite your tongue, at the rate he’s growing that could be next week.”

He was correct. Since someone like Samuel had never existed, we had no clue how fast he would grow. It was unsettling, but what in our world wasn’t? As long as he was safe and loved, I didn’t care if I woke up tomorrow and he was an adult. I hoped it didn’t happen that way because I loved the stage he was in right now. However, it didn’t matter what I wanted. It was going to happen however the fates deemed fit.

“You’re right,” I said as I sat down next to him and put my head on his shoulder. “Fat Demon Doug is harmless. He was a pile of shit this morning and I felt bad for him.”

“Literally?” Ethan asked.

“Um, yes… Charles kind of zapped Doug when Doug suggested REO Speedwagon for the reception,” I told him, and then dove back in quickly just in case he went after Charles to get rid of him or worse. “It’s a long story, and yes, Charles was involved, but it’s fine now. Dixie fixed it and made Charles her minion and mine, so he can’t tell Satan everything we’re doing anymore. It’s really a win-win and Charles is now our wedding planner. Doug was supposed to, but he’s never seen a wedding even though he’s gay which Satan assured me was the correct prerequisite for a wedding planner. I don’t think Charles is gay. I get a more asexual vibe from him, but I’m not going to let that color my opinion of him. It’s fine with me if he’s straight, although I really can’t visualize him having a girlfriend—or a boyfriend. Besides, Satan is fucked in the head,” I finished my diatribe to a look of utter confusion on my mate’s face.

“I followed very little of that and I think I’m glad,” Ethan said, shaking his head and pulling me closer.

“Fucked in the head,” Samuel shouted as he made his trains fly around the room.

“What did I tell you about saying fucked?” I reprimanded my very-proud-of-himself son.

“You say me no say fucker, not fucked,” he countered with a shrug and a giggle.

He had me there.

“What your mother meant was you can’t use that word in any way at all,” Ethan cut in before I used the word fuck in an explanation of every possible way to say the word.

“Okay,” Samuel said, satisfied with his father’s answer.

I watched in awe as Samuel went right back to happily playing. “How did you do that?” I whispered to Ethan. “I always put my foot in my mouth.”

“Never explain,” he replied with a sexy grin that made me want to stick my tongue down his throat and ride him hard.

“What?”

“Only answer the matter at hand. Answer vaguely and never go into detail unless he asks.”

“How did you get so smart?” I demanded as I nipped at his full bottom lip.

“Over five hundred years of dealing with Vampyres who tend to behave like children is how I got so smart.”

“I have a long way to go,” I muttered.

“You’re doing just fine,” he promised.

“How many portals have reopened?” I asked, wondering if I needed to alert Satan.

“About ten,” Ethan told me with a disgusted shake of his head. “Hold off on Satan. We closed them and I don’t want the Demon SWAT team or the God Squad involved yet. I’ve got some of our best on it with The Kev leading them. If it gets worse, we’ll call in the shitshow, but right now it’s handled. Now I’m going to play trains for a while with our little Einstein and you’re going to go deal with Mother Nature.”

“That doesn’t seem fair.” I stood up and groaned. “But she is my grandmother, not yours.”

“And thank God for that,” Ethan said with a relieved grunt.

“Screw you,” I shot back with a giggle, as I kissed the top of my son’s head and made my way to the door of the nursery.

“In five days,” Ethan promised with a look in his eyes that set my girlie parts on fire.

“Screw you, mommy,” Samuel said, blowing me a kiss.

As I opened my mouth, I caught Ethan’s raised brow and closed it immediately.

“Never explain,” he mouthed as he got down on the floor with our baby. “Samuel the best way to say bye to people is to say, I love you or see you later. Screw you is only for mommy and daddy. Okay?”

“Okay,” Samuel said as he handed Ethan a train and got back to the business of playing.

I was amazed.

I wondered if the same strategy would work with Mother Nature…

Only one way to find out.

***

“So this is the gay Demon that Satan sent to plan your wedding?” Mother Nature questioned in disbelief as she pointed her long perfectly manicured nail at Charles.

Poor Charles was alone on top of the oversized teak kitchen table looking traumatized from his short time with Mother Nature. She was good like that. I wasn’t quite sure how he’d gotten from Ethan’s office to the kitchen, but thinking too hard about that would give me a headache—something that was almost virtually impossible for a Vampyre.

Gigi circled my three-headed monster and tsked with distaste. Charles stared at me with wide eyes and a terrified expression on all three of his faces.

My grandmother was dressed to the nines as usual in a gorgeous shimmering green diaphanous gown, but she was covered in flour and I was fairly certain there was a glob of pink icing in her red hair. None of this boded well for a pleasant visit.

“Um, no. He’s not gay.” I moved closer to shield Charles just in case Mother Nature decided to eliminate him permanently. “Wait. Are you gay?” I asked my multi-headed wedding planner from Hell.

“Noooooo,” he replied. “I like booooooobies.”

“Have you introduced him to the Baby Demons? He seems to have a lot in common with them,” Mother Nature commented dryly.

She was correct. My Baby Demons loved boobies—well, Abe and Ross did. Beyoncé and Rachel were more into butts and pecs. They were miniature destructive nightmares, but I loved them. I was quite sure Charles was going to fit right in.

“I’m a gay Demon named Doug!” Fat Doug volunteered as he did jazz runs across the room and finished with a pose so awkward I flinched in sympathy pain.

“So why aren’t you planning the shindig?” Gigi asked as she began removing cakes from the mound of boxes she’d brought.

“I’m a dancer,” Doug replied.

“Mmmkay,” Gigi replied with one brow arched high.

“A dancer dances,” Doug explained with a small leap that looked more like the move one makes when trying to discreetly pull ones underwear from one’s ass without using hands.

Mother Nature considered Doug for a few long moments as Doug continued to butcher the art of movement. Her eyes lit up and my stomach clenched in fear.

“Doug darling, do you pole dance?” she inquired casually.

“Why yes I do,” he trilled as he sashayed over to my grandmother and landed in a fucked up version of what I think was supposed to be the splits. “Do you, m’lady?”

“I do,” she said coyly, batting her lashes at the gay Demon who was now besotted with her. “What say you we go back to Nirvana and practice a little routine for the wedding reception after I’m done here.”

“I say YES!” Doug shouted, and then grunted in pain as he heaved himself out of the splits.

“Wonderful,” Mother Nature said, as she placed the eighth and final gorgeous cake on the long granite countertop in the massive state of the art kitchen that was rarely used. Since all the inhabitants in the compound didn’t actually eat food, the kitchen was more for show than use. “Doug, Astrid only drinks blood would you be a dear and taste my confections?”

“I would be delighted O Beautiful One,” Doug squealed.

He was so excited he produced a boom box out of mid-air and cranked YMCA up so loud I was sure we’d all ruptured an eardrum. Doug did a rather repulsive bump and grind on his way over to the cakes much to the rabid joy of Mother Nature who was applauding wildly—which of course caused a smallish earth quake and several trees to explode out of the pitted cherry hardwood floors.

Fuck. I dropped my chin to my chest and thought very seriously about transporting myself to Siberia. The clusterfuck that was about to ensue when Doug puked up my grandmother’s cake was going to be ugly.

“Meeeeeee taste toooooo,” Charles volunteered before I could quietly warn him away.

“This is delightful,” Gigi sang as she blew both Charles and Doug kisses and produced a cake knife from her Coach bag to slice her desserts.

Oh. My. Uncle. God.

Please don’t let the cakes cause a head spinning episode with Charles. If Mother Nature gets turned into a pile of shit with a face, the world as we know it, will end. I gripped the table and waited for all Hell to break loose.

And then it did…

“What’s going on in here?” Mary-Scary-Larry-Harry demanded in a shrill voice from the entryway looking as if she hadn’t slept much. Trista, Spike and Francisco were right behind her.

Scary-Mary marched over to the blaring boom box and punched it so hard it cracked in two. Fat Demon Doug didn’t seem to notice as he went on dancing as if there was no tomorrow—which sadly might be the case in a few minutes.

“And who are you?” Mother Nature hissed as a fragrant wind blew up and swept through the room like a mini tornado.

Spike, Trista and Francisco were smart enough to back away—Harry-Larry… not so much. I assumed they would recognize Mother Nature.

Never assume…

“I’m a guest here,” Mary snapped and waved her finger in my grandmother’s face. “I got very little sleep and this is unacceptable. The help in a palace should know their place. You clearly do not know your place.”

“Uh, Mary,” Trista said in mortification as she stared wide-eyed at Mother Nature and gave her a quick respectful bow. “You might want to…”

“Shut up,” Mary growled, missing the exchange. “I’ve had to put up with the three of you for days now and you are on my very last nerve. It’s taken everything I have not to have shoved sliver stakes through your hearts.” Her gaze zeroed in on me with hatred and a sneer spread across her mouth. “It shouldn’t surprise me at all that you don’t know how to handle a staff. Ethan certainly mated below his station.”

“Do you really think so?” Mother Nature inquired so calmly it sent chills up my spine.

“I do. And you shall speak only when spoken to,” Mary ground out at Mother Nature. “Honestly, when did help get so mouthy?”

For the first time in my life, I was truly speechless. Nothing would come out of my mouth. No one fucked with Mother Nature. No one. I wasn’t sure if Mary-Harry-Scary-Larry was about to die or be turned into a toad. Neither was good.

“What did you say your name was, Vampyre?” Mother Nature asked in a tone that made Mary pause.

“I didn’t,” she replied rudely, still unwilling to be spoken to by the staff. “Why don’t you give me your name so I can report your insolence to Ethan?”

Mary waited with her arms crossed over her chest and gave Mother Nature the stink eye.

With a trill of gloriously evil laughter, my grandmother began to glow. She lifted her hands and more trees burst from the floor and out of the walls as a den of poisonous vipers slithered lovingly around her Prada clad feet. Rain and ice began to pour in buckets from the ceiling, but amazingly only soaked Mary-Harry-Scary who wasn’t looking quite as superior anymore.

“My name?” Gigi roared. “My name is Gaia and you have messed with the wrong immortal, you piece of shit.”

“You go girl,” Doug shouted and did something akin to a toe touch that was sure to land him in traction.

“Ooooffffffff with her heeeeaaaaaad!” Charles grunted as he too got into the action—heads spinning and goop flying.

“It’s not nice to fuck with Mother Nature,” Gigi roared.

“I thought it was fool,” Doug chimed in, perplexed but not missing a single beat of his dance.

“That’s the butttttter commerciaaaaal,” Charles explained as he took a brief break for the Exorcist head-spinning thing.

“Right,” Doug said as he slapped his forehead and then popped and locked.

“Attack,” Mother Nature commanded of her slithery, hissing pets.

Harry-Larry cowered on the ground and writhed in agony as Mother Nature’s snakes slid across the floor with lightening speed and set upon the stupid Vampyre with a vengeance. I was pretty sure Vamps were immune to poison, but with my grandma running the show there was no telling what was in the venom.

“You do not insult Mother Nature and you do not insult, The Chosen One, who is my granddaughter. Do you understand me?” Mother Nature bellowed in a voice that shook the walls of the compound. “And if I had been the help, which I most certainly am not, you should be ashamed of yourself for speaking that way. I’d rip my children a new asshole if they behaved as appallingly as you.”

Mary’s screams were very real and this was getting out of hand. She was rude and I didn’t like her even a little bit, but having her die a violent death on my kitchen floor wasn’t in my plans for the day. Trista, Francisco and Spike looked on in shock, but with no pity on their faces.

Mary was not a very popular or well-liked gal. I guess her threat of taking a stake to their hearts didn’t sit too well with them.

“It’s like a horror movie gone awry,” Spike said to his cohorts who ignored him.

Shit was getting far too real and it had to stop. This was not a movie—not even remotely. However, Spike had a point…it had definitely gone awry. Mary didn’t deserve to die for being rude and stupid.

“Enough,” I shouted and felt the adrenaline rush I always got when my magic consumed me. Black glitter covered my arms and chest and sliver and purple sparks shot from my fingertips. My hair flew wildly around my head and I knew my eyes had turned as glittering red as the Devil’s. The trembling of the floor was no longer coming from Mother Nature’s magic. Nope, I was rocking the house all by myself.

I lifted my hands over my head and the snakes withered and disintegrated before our eyes. The screeching was horrifying, but I continued until every last one was dead and no longer sinking their fangs into the disgusting Vampyre convulsing on the floor. Doug and Charles prostrated themselves at my feet and the other Vampyres gaped in uncomfortable shock.

“I want to destroy her,” Mother Nature whined as she stomped her foot and pouted.

“I know.” I nodded my head at her, but didn’t pull back my magic even a fraction. The room still quaked and my power poured off of me making the rest of the inhabitants in the room duck for cover. “She’s a horrid excuse for a Vampyre, but verbal hostility is not grounds for death. If it was our entire family would be ash. Am I clear, Grandma?”

“Yes,” Gigi grumbled and let her own power recede. “However, if I see her again, all bets are off.”

“Grandmother…” I said sternly.

“Fine,” she snapped as she waved her hand and pined Mary to the wall with a violent blast of wind. “I won’t kill her exactly, but she must be punished for her impertinence. I’m Mother Fucking Nature.”

“I agree. What exactly did you have in mind?” I asked warily. I knew damn well that there was no way in Hell Mary could get off scot free after speaking to one of the most powerful beings in the world as she did. “And it can’t include death of any kind.”

“How many kinds of death are there?” Fat Demon Doug asked, confused.

“Many,” Mother Nature purred as she eyed the pathetic Vamp. “Oh so very many. Do you like your beauty, Mary?”

Mary stared at Mother Nature and refused to answer.

Bad move.

“I think you do,” Gigi said as she flicked her fingers and zapped Mary bald.

Mary hissed and bared her fangs at my grandma. I rolled my eyes. How ignorant was she?

Very.

She was very ignorant.

With a giggle of delight, Gigi waved her hand again and blackened her teeth then reduced her breast size to the point that a training bra would be overkill. I kind of felt bad for her, but the vicious look she threw me made me keep my compassionate mouth shut. I’d just saved her worthless life. Mary-Harry-Larry was an ungrateful skank. She needed a lesson and Mother Nature was more than willing to be her teacher today.

“Would Mary look nice with a beard?” Mother Nature asked politely.

“I think you’ve done enough,” I said. “Let her go now.”

Mother Nature considered my request and nodded curtly. “My work here is done. Who wants cake?”

I swallowed the hysterical laughter than threatened to escape from my lips and stepped up to the counter as did Trista, Spike and Francisco. Mary ran from the room hissing and swearing. Never to come back, hopefully… but I was sure I wasn’t going to get that lucky. Against all odds, Fat Doug and Charles loved Mother Nature’s cakes—all of them. Or maybe they wanted to keep their hair and pearly white teeth.

Just another day in my undead paradise…

Chapter 11

“They were edible?” Paris Hilton asked in surprise. “I thought Mother Nature was the Universe’s worst cook.”

“She is,” I replied as I unzipped the bridesmaid dress that Paris was wearing. She looked beautiful. All of my gals looked like freakin’ super models. The only one left to try on her dress was Pam and I knew she would rock the Hell out of it. “Pompeii happened because one of Mother Nature’s cakes was insulted. Maybe Fat Demon Doug and Charles don’t have taste buds.”

“Or maybe she learned how to cook,” Raquel volunteered skeptically as she flopped down on my bed and began the arduous task of matching fingernail polish and lipstick to a fabric swatch from the bridesmaid dresses.

“Or maybe she didn’t make them at all.” Venus gave an evil little snicker. “You said she had flour all over her dress and frosting in her hair. Right?”

“Yep. She was a hot mess. Not like her at all,” I said as I carefully hung all the bridesmaid dresses and put them back into my closet.

“That smacks of guilt. She was trying to make it look like she’d been slaving away,” Gemma said with a giggle. “Were the cakes pretty?”

“Gorgeous,” I confirmed.

“She so didn’t bake them,” Gemma said, eliminating four of the lipsticks from the pile in front of Raquel. “Too dark.”

“Agree,” Raquel said tossing a few of the nail polishes aside as well.

“You really think she didn’t bake them?” I asked with a laugh.

“I really, really, really don’t think she baked them,” Gemma stated with authority. “If there was no vomiting or explosive gas she either bought them or had someone else bake the cakes for her.”

“Well, I’m certainly not gonna call her out on that one,” I said with a shudder.

“Hell to the no,” Paris grunted. “If she’s passing off palatable food as her own, I say zip the lip and let them eat cake without fear of eternal death.”

“I heard Mary is a little worse for the wear,” Venus said with a wrinkled nose and a barely concealed smile.

“She thought Mother Nature was a servant of some sort and treated her as such,” I explained with a shudder. “Let’s just say that didn’t go over very well.”

“She’s a horrible person,” Paris said. “I never liked her. Known her for a long time, she’s always been a bee-otch.”

“Well, there’s a little less of her to like now,” I said.

“She’s dead?” Paris asked, shocked.

“Nope, but I am guessing she might wish she was,” I told her.

“Never fuck with Mother Nature,” Raquel advised sagely. “Don’t get me wrong, I adore her, but she’s insane on her best days and certifiable on her worst.”

“Word,” Gemma said with a chuckle. “Enough of that unpleasantness. It’s time to talk wedding. Do you have your dress yet?” she asked me.

“It arrives tomorrow, along with Ethan’s custom tux and a mini one for Samuel,” I said, clasping my hands together with excitement. “My dress is perfect and I can’t wait till you guys see it.”

I was happy. I was sitting in my bedroom with my best girlfriends and we were gossiping about my wedding—my wedding. My wedding to the sexiest, most loving, smartest Vampyre in the whole freakin’ world. In four more days I would be a married dead person—totally unheard of and so very exciting. As long as we could follow Jeff’s no-sex edict, everything would be just fine.

Maybe.

“How is Charles doing?” Dixie asked as she breezed into my bedroom with about ten overloaded shopping bags in her hands.

“No clue,” I answered, eyeing the bags with materialistic curiosity. “He assures me it’s all good, but that doesn’t mean shit.”

“The invitations are lovely, albeit a little untraditional,” Raquel said as she narrowed the Chanel nail polishes down to two.

“You got an invitation?” I asked, perplexed and somewhat annoyed. “I never okayed an invitation. How in the Hell did you get an invitation? The little three-headed fucker doesn’t even have a guest list to go off of. We were supposed to do that later today. Did all of you get invitations?” I asked way too calmly as my fingers began to spark. Thank Uncle God I’d put the dresses away. I’d be pissed if I fried one to a crisp.

My bevy of bridesmaids nodded cautiously and backed away from my flickering fingers. I glared hard at the ceiling and counted to thirty-three and a half. The wedding was only four days away and I knew all of these things had to get done, but I was pretty sure I was supposed to have a say.

“Is this normal?” I demanded of my girls.

Everyone glanced around nervously and shrugged. It was a stupid question. Most of them were hundreds of years old and none of them had ever been married.

“Dude, I say unless Charles invited clowns it’s all good. Dixie cast a spell on him to know everything about weddings. Right?” Gemma asked, trying to spin a possible clusterfuck into a positive clusterfuck.

“I did,” Dixie promised. “And I thought the skulls, coffins and bloody fangs were a nice touch. I especially thought the nude photo of Ethan’s ass was inspired.”

“What?” I screeched and darted around the room in a panic. “Ethan’s ass is on our wedding invitation? You have got to be kidding me. He’s going to kill me and then Charles is definitely a goner. This is bad, bad, bad, bad, bad. There is no way in Hell I’m gonna be able to keep Charles now. Shitballsmotherhumpinassholeplantations.”

“Whoa there, Nelly! I was joking,” Dixie said as she grabbed me before I took flight and pulled me in for a hug. “That was a joke. Ethan’s fine backside has not been revealed to the world.”

“Asshole plantations?” Gemma questioned with a wince.

“Did I say asshole plantations?” I asked somewhat perturbed that I didn’t even know that had come out of my mouth. We were definitely going to have to get Samuel another baboon.

“You did.”

“My bad,” I apologized.

“I should say so,” Gemma chastised with mock severity even though she was trying not to laugh.

“Holy Hell,” I muttered as I sagged in Dixie’s arms. “I think I’m too wound up for jokes this week. My swearing is off and I don’t even know what asshole plantation means. But the worst of the worst is that I’m not allowed to get laid until after the wedding. It’s messing with my chi.”

“Seriously?” Raquel asked. “That sucks.”

“Tell me about it. Jeff, that premarital Angel, is a butthole,” I griped, still wildly relieved that my mate’s fine hiney wasn’t being revealed to the immortal population. “Wait a minute. What about the fangs, coffins and the skulls?”

Everyone went silent.

Awesome. Fucking awesome.

“Well… I thought you’d be so relieved that Ethan’s butt wasn’t out there to be admired by everyone we know that the reality of the invite wouldn’t be so bad,” Dixie explained with a forced smile.

“I see what you did there.” I nodded in appreciation at my cousin’s crafty skill. “However, skulls, coffins and fangs are not on the top of my list of classy shit to put on my wedding invitation. I mean the fangs are kind of okay, but why in the living Hell would that three headed dork have put skulls on the damn thing? And a fucking coffin? It’s not a freakin’ funeral.”

“I get the fangs,” Paris said thoughtfully. “And the coffin might be a nod to the fact we’re dead. Kind of gross, but I get it. The skulls? Not so much.”

Letting my head fall back on my shoulders I closed my eyes and tried to pretend that my invitations didn’t look like a high school goth party gone bad. Did it really matter? I mean people just glanced at those things, noted the date and sent in a response. They’d forget about the wildly inappropriate piece of paper in no time. Hell, I wasn’t even going to ask what the RSVP cards looked like. As of this moment I was going forward with the motto don’t explain, don’t complain. However, I was definitely going to set Charles straight about doing things without my permission. If that three headed Gollum-wannabe freakshow was planning on living here, he was going to have to abide by my rules. And sending out shitty wedding invitations was a big fat fucking no-no.

“I’m good now,” I told my doubtful friends. “However, if Charles does anything else that heinous, he’ll be sporting two heads instead of three.”

“I think that’s a very good attitude,” Venus congratulated me. “You ready for a surprise?”

“Does it involve fangs, skulls or coffins?” I asked.

“Nope! It involves presents for you,” Venus shrieked and then dove for the pile of bags Dixie had dropped in the corner of the room.

“For me?” I yelled and started hopping around with excitement.

“Yes,” Dixie said with a giggle. “It’s going to get so busy in the next few days we decided to combine the last fitting session with a bridal shower.”

“Wait,” Paris said, putting a halt to the excitement. “Where’s Pam? We can’t have the shower without Pam.”

“I’m here. I’m here. Pull your panties out of your asses,” Pam announced. She marched through the door with a look on her face that dared anyone to comment on the fact that her skin was an alarming shade of pale blue. “That baby boy of ours is a fucking genius. We were coming up with rhymes that rhymed with poo. So I said was feeling a little blue—because blue sounds like poo, as you all know. And next thing I knew I was sporting fucking skin the color of the sky. I look like a goddamned Smurf.”

No one moved. No one blinked an eye. No one in the room who actually had to breathe expelled any air whatsoever.

This was because no one was sure if Pam was happy about her new hue or pissed. A pissed Pam was a very scary thing. A pissed off blue Pam was anyone’s guess.

“He’ll change your skin back if you ask,” I whispered, still not moving an inch and only opening my mouth the necessary amount to be understood.

“I know that, Assbucket,” Pam told me with a cackle and a wink. “But The King finds it sexy. He’s a kinky old bastard. I told him I’d stay blue for a couple more hours, so let’s get this party started! Mamma Smurf needs to get laid!”

And on that unappetizing note and permanently scarring visual we got the party started.

“I ate an entire gallon of black raspberry chip ice cream right before I got here,” Gemma announced as she rolled her sleeve up and beckoned me over. “Time to drink up, bride-to-be!”

Gemma had a gift that we kept very quiet so she wasn’t barraged by Vamps. Whatever my BFF ate could be tasted in her blood. Sooooo, since Vamps didn’t have the ability to eat food, it was an enormous treat to be able to taste our favorite snacks by sucking back a bit of Gemma’s magical O negative.

“O, Queen of the Fairies, I bow at your dainty feet,” I said as I got on my knees and lowering my head. “Did you bring chips and hot salsa too?”

“But of course,” she said whipping out a bag from underneath the couch and plopping it into my hands.

“Oh my God, you guys really planned this out,” I said, moved by the feeling of being loved by my friends.

“Damn right, Assbutt. We can’t let our girl get married without some crotchless underpants,” Pam announced, pulling gaily-wrapped gifts from the shopping bags.

Venus rolled her eyes and laughed. “Yes, and the old blue Angel made me go in the store to get them. I haven’t been in a shop with so many humans in years, but Pam insisted that we go to the damned mall.”

“You all went to the mall?” I asked. I pulled my fangs out of Gemma’s wrist and stared at everyone in astonishment. “All of you?”

“Yep,” Raquel said as she stacked box after box in a pretty arrangement at my feet. “Ironically, none of us had any money or credit cards. Dixie did a little voodoo and we were able to get by.”

“Oh my Hell, you guys stole my crotchless panties?”

“Not exactly,” Dixie cut in quickly knowing I wouldn’t accept stolen goods. “We have a kinda, sorta, payment plan.”

“And that would be?” I asked, handing Gemma the chips and salsa, which she chowed down on with gusto.

“A mind sweep,” Dixie admitted sheepishly.

“You erased the memory of everyone at the entire mall?” I demanded, appalled. Dixie was so sweet I occasionally forgot she was the Devil’s daughter…

“Not the entire mall,” Raquel assured me. “Only the people at Prada, Gucci and La Perla.”

“We have a Prada in Kentucky?” I was flabbergasted. It almost made me forget they’d procured my gifts the same way Satan procured everything.

“Oh my God, no. We transported to Milan,” Venus explained as if that would negate the fact my bridesmaids had gone renegade.

“So that makes it okay?” I asked.

“Um, no?” Dixie asked.

“No,” I stated firmly even though I was now dying to tear into the bags.

“Fine,” she muttered dejectedly. “I’ll make sure they’re paid for with real money.

“Promise?” I asked.

“Yes, but don’t tell my dad. He was so proud of me for shoplifting.”

“I’m about to bust,” Gemma grunted as she patted her tummy and shoved her wrist toward my mouth. “The chips and salsa are served.”

“Shouldn’t you have had the chips and salsa first and the ice cream for dessert afterward?” Paris Hilton asked, pulling a large box of about one hundred rolls of toilet paper out from underneath my bed.

“Um, no. It’s my party and I like dessert first. Can I ask you a question?” I inquired politely.

“Sure,” Paris said as she deposited ten rolls on the couch next to me.

“Seeing as that we don’t have the internal facilities to go to the bathroom since our plumbing doesn’t work, why in the Hell are you handing out toilet paper and why was it under my bed?”

“It’s a shower game. Ethan helped me hide everything yesterday,” Paris explained with a wide grin. “He loves you so much that he didn’t even flinch at the toilet paper. He simply pressed the bridge of his nose and told me to be quick about it.”

“Sooo, um, we’re gonna pretend to go to the bathroom a bunch of times?” I asked trying to be grateful that Paris had gone to all the trouble of buying and hiding a massive amount of toilet paper—however misguided her judgment of a fun game was.

“No, Assgump,” Pam bellowed, prancing around the room wearing a roll of potty paper on her head. “We are not gonna wipe our butts. We’re gonna make wedding dresses!”

“Seriously?” I asked with a laugh. With her blue skin and the roll of tissue on her head she looked ridiculous.

“Very seriously,” Venus shot back with a smirk as she began to swath her body in Charmin.

“Presents after dresses?” I asked. I eyed the paper with trepidation.

“Yes!” Paris squealed. “Every woman for herself. On your mark. Get Set. Go!”

And we did.

Toilet paper flew everywhere as we draped ourselves and laughed hysterically. I was fairly certain Gemma pilfered a few of my rolls because my dress ended up being a mini. Pam, on the other hand, definitely used magic when our heads were turned. She looked like Queen Smurf ready for her royal nuptials. Dixie was a hot mess with shreds hanging all over her body and Venus wasn’t much better. Raquel actually created something that she could leave the room in—all of her important parts were covered. It didn’t exactly look like a wedding dress, but it didn’t look like she was covered in toilet paper either. Paris used the cardboard tubes for bracelets and shoes and looked silly. It was too bad most of us in the room had no reflections or I would have been snapping pictures like a fool…or maybe not. I looked like a paper marshmallow from Hell.

“Your hoohoo is exposed,” Pam pointed out. She sat down carefully so her masterpiece didn’t unravel.

“Whoops, it is.” I laughed as I pulled some of Dixie’s dress off of her and covered myself. At least we were wearing our clothes underneath our heinous creations. Otherwise it would have been seriously obscene.

“That rocked,” Raquel said, gingerly removing her creation and began shoving all the shredded paper back into the big box. “You ready for presents?”

“I am always ready for presents,” I said. I yanked excitedly at my paper dress and settled myself on the floor.

There were ten pairs of crotchless panties—compliments of Pam. Three exquisite nightgowns with matching robes—or peignoir sets, as I learned from my very knowledgeable bridesmaids. Four gallons of assorted massage oils, all with obscene names; edible underwear—from Pam of course. A scented candle, fuzzy pink handcuffs—again…Pam. A few very sexy bustiers, a French maid outfit…Pam. And last but not least a pair of assless leather chaps—a gag gift in honor of Martha and Jane.

My party was the best party ever, but all good things must come to an end and reality sets back in, whether you want it to or not.

Shit.

Chapter 12

“Krumecaca,” The Kev yelled with delight, striking a pose next to Ethan’s brand spanking new desk as I gaped at his latest disguise.

We were alone in the office and I was grateful to get to spend a little quality time with one of my favorite people. The mold was broken after The Kev was created. He was a two thousand year old Fairy and one of the deadliest and sweetest beings alive.

My dear friend was so blindingly beautiful in his natural Fairy form it was impossible for people to look at him, so he took on the outer shell of whomever amused him. He’d outdone himself today.

“Seriously The Kev? Kenny G?” I asked with a snicker.

“For the love of everything holy, I am not Kenny G,” The Kev said, clearly insulted.

“Um…Weird Al Yankovic?” I guessed.

“Absolutely not,” The Kev huffed with a large put upon sigh as he dropped his head full of long kinky hair into his hands.

“Oookay,” I said, realizing my handle on obscure performers was seriously lacking. “Are you Gallagher?”

The look he gave me made me want to take cover, but I was not a weenie. I was going to figure out who in the Hell he was or I was going to die trying.

“Give me a hint, but don’t tell me. I want to guess.”

The Kev sighed again dramatically and shrugged. “Fine,” he muttered. “Um… Nicolette Sheridan.”

“Who the Hell is that?” I asked, bewildered.

“Oh. My. God,” The Kev blustered, clearly displeased I didn’t know who he was—or who Nicolette Sheridan was. “Cheesy love songs.” He tried another hint.

“That could be almost everyone on the radio now,” I told him. “You have to do better than that.”

“He’s actually Jewish, but Americanized his name when he sang with a heavy metal band and opened for Ozzy Osborne.”

“You lost me,” I said staring hard at him, still clueless.

“It was kind of a random hint,” The Kev agreed.

“Give me the initials,” I demanded. “I know I can get it if you give me the initials.”

“M.B,” he said. He sat down at Ethan’s desk and tucked his long locks behind his ears.

“M.B.?” I asked at a loss. Who in the heck had the initials M.B. that desperately needed a hot oil treatment, a haircut, some looser pants, and a few less gold chains? The thinning on the top thing and the rat’s nest flowing down the back was so 90’s…

“Marlon Brando?” I asked knowing that was a very long shot, but he was the first M.B. that came to mind. I was pretty sure he never sang in a heavy metal band, but I had to start somewhere.

“No.”

“Well, you’re not Mel Brooks or Michael Bublé and you’re definitely not Mavis Beacon.”

“Who in the world is Mavis Beacon?” The Kev asked, getting more confused than I was.

“She’s that mean woman on the internet that teaches you how to type. She made me start over so many times because my fingering was incorrect that I hurled my laptop across the room, which sucked wads because throwing electronics is not a good example to set for my son—not to mention I created about seventeen and a half new swear words while dealing with that horrible woman. But I was so sick and tired of everyone telling me my fingering was wrong that I paid a gazillion dollars for the stupid fucking program and then the hag made fun of me.”

“A computer program made fun of you?” The Kev asked, trying to follow my story.

“Well, no, but it felt like it. Because she was so evil, I drew a beard and mustache on her face with a Sharpie, which ruined the computer screen. Then I got so mad because she made me do that, I drop kicked the laptop out of the window after I put a large dent in my wall with it.”

“Was this in college?” he asked.

“No. It was about a month ago,” I replied, trying to remember the point of my tale and what we were talking about in the first place.

“Why were you learning to type?” The Kev inquired with interest.

“Because I was going to write a romance novel. I figured with all the time I had on my hands being immortal and all, I needed to find a hobby that didn’t involve blood or maiming people. It didn’t really work out too well.”

“I see,” he said with a sympathetic nod of understanding. “What was it about?”

“What was what about?”

“The romance novel?” he reminded me.

“Oh, it was kind of autobiographical because I read on Facebook that you should write what you know. Paranormal romance is very hot right now, what with Twilight and True Blood. But when I wrote it down on paper it was so fucking far-fetched I didn’t think anyone would buy it. I mean who in their right mind would want to read about a half-Vampyre half-Demon who got turned by a fucked up Vampyre who ended up being her koo-koo for Cocoa Puffs sister? And all this nonsense because she tried to quit smoking?”

“I can see how that might be a tough sell,” he agreed.

“Right. I did learn that just because you read some bullshit on Facebook doesn’t mean it’s true. I decided I was a lot better at kicking ass and shopping so I’m sticking to that.”

“Good plan,” The Kev concurred.

“Anyhoo,” I said, taking a long pause and sucking my bottom lip into my mouth. “What were we talking about?”

The Kev squinted and shrugged. “I have no idea.”

“It’ll come back to us in a minute,” I told him. “This always happens to me. Did you know Gemma went to Milan with the girls and stole crotchless panties for me for my bridal shower?”

“Um, no,” he replied, looking a bit uncomfortable.

“I’m making them go back and pay for them. I mean, would you wear stolen crotchless panties?”

“Um, no.”

“Exactly,” I said and then slapped myself in the head. “Oh my Hell, you’re Michael Bolton!”

“I am?” he asked.

“Aren’t you?”

The Kev paused and thought hard for a moment. “Yes! Yes, my Krumecaca, I am Michael Bolton. You had me so confused with the Mavis Beacon computer throwing romance novel episode, I couldn’t remember my own name.”

“God. I’m so glad I guessed who you are. It would have driven me nuts if I didn’t get it.”

“Do you think other people will be confused?” he asked, worried.

“I’m not sure,” I told him truthfully. “Michael Bolton is a little obscure.”

“Would Weird Al be better?”

“No. Weird Al would not be better.”

“Roger that,” he replied and then rounded the desk and gave me a perfect “The Kev” hug. “We need to discuss a few things before the meeting, Krumecaca.”

“I hear Ethan coming. Let’s wait for him. That way you only have to relay it once.”

“As you wish.”

I adored The Kev. He’d taught me how to fight and had my back like no one else I knew other than Ethan. He’d risked his life to help us save Samuel from his own people and he treated my BFF with so much love and respect it made me feel all happy-squishy.

It made me sick they had to go back to Xanthia soon so Gemma could take her rightful place as the Queen of the Fairies, but life sucked that way sometimes. I’d learned first hand that Fairies were not like the ones from childhood stories. Nope. They were a deadly bunch and I didn’t envy my BFF her new job. However, I knew with The Kev by her side, they would make it and hopefully bring some peace to the Fairy world.

“Do you have news on the portals?” Ethan asked, as he briskly entered his office followed by Gareth, Venus, Spike, Trista, Francisco and Gemma.

The Kev nodded and took his place beside Gemma who glanced covertly at him with total adoration. The powerful Fairy seemed slightly surprised at the unfamiliar group of people in the office, but covered it quickly. Of course he knew Venus and Gareth, but the others were new to him.

The Vampyres took their seats and Ethan walked behind his desk and waited for The Kev to speak. I was relieved no one commented on Michael Bolton. Maybe they had no clue who he was either.

“About ten a day are being reopened. So far we’ve been able to close each and every one, but there’s no pattern to follow. It’s happening all times of the day and night and they are spread across the North American Dominion very randomly.”

“How are you finding them then?” Gareth inquired, looking a bit better today than he had been as of late.

“Unfortunately we’re finding them by following the trail of destruction that the Demons leave after they come through.”

“Unacceptable,” Ethan said curtly.

“I agree,” The Kev said tightly. “It’s a shitshow with deadly ramifications.”

“Are there any clues at the openings?” Spike inquired.

The Kev paused and stared hard at Spike, Francisco and Trista.

“They can be trusted,” Ethan assured him. “They’re my regional generals. However, if they prove otherwise, I’ll kill them.”

“It’s a wonderful working environment,” Spike told The Kev with his tongue planted firmly in his cheek. “The perks are amazing.”

I really did like Spike. He had very big balls, metaphorically speaking. I had no clue what his real balls looked like.

“I’m having a hard time taking Doug Henning seriously,” Francisco said in a flat tone.

“I am not Doug Henning,” The Kev ground out and shot me a look.

I shrugged and wondered why I hadn’t thought of that one earlier. Michael Bolton was probably not his best choice.

“Jerry Garcia?” Gareth questioned.

“No. I’m not Jerry Garcia either,” The Kev said wearily. “For the love of lederhosen, I’m Michael Bolton.”

“I knew that, honey,” Gemma said as she brushed his long, kinky locks out of his face.

“Thank you,” he told her with a quick kiss to the top of her head. “I think I might need to change my disguise. The confusion is depressing me.”

“The Kev, with all due respect, can you deal with that later? We have a Demon problem on our hands at the moment and we need to end it. Sooner rather than later,” Ethan said.

The Kev nodded and took the elastic band that Gemma offered and put his hair—for lack of a nicer word—into an unfortunate low ponytail. “Of course,” he agreed becoming all business. “The signature scents at the sites are muted but somewhat familiar to me.”

He stopped and waited, glancing again at the visiting Vampyres.

“I’d prefer to share classified information with only those I know and trust,” The Kev stated with hesitation.

Very unlike him.

“We are not part of the problem,” Trista said, coolly. “We are here because of the problem. We can’t be expected to protect our people if we don’t know what’s going on.”

“She’s correct,” Spike spoke up staring straight at Ethan. “It’s like the Godfather. You’re Marlon Brando and we’re all the rest of them. We’re your henchmen so to speak. If you can’t trust us, then you should remove us. Or at the very least put a decapitated horse head in our beds.”

Francisco still appeared bored to tears and rolled his eyes at Spike’s analogy.

Spike’s weird was mostly funny, but that one was just weird. Trista shot him a look to kill. Spike just winked at her and grinned. He was all kids of nutty crazy, but at least he wasn’t pissed all the time.

Ethan was quiet as he considered the requests.

I was not. Learning to think before I spoke was something I was still working on. “I have no problem with it,” I said as The Kev gave me a sharp glance of frustration.

“Astrid is right,” Ethan conceded. “The more we hide, the worse it looks. These are my people and if we want Astrid and the new laws to be accepted then we have to work as one. And where is Mary?”

“Indisposed,” Trista said with a careless shrug. “She won’t be back.”

“She left?” Gareth asked, surprised.

“She had a little run in with Mother Nature and let’s just say Mary’s lack of manners didn’t turn out so well for her,” Spike added with a grin.

“Is this something I need to deal with?” Ethan inquired tersely.

“No,” I cut in quickly. “I can take this one.”

I didn’t really want to restore Mary to her former bitchy glory, but I would. It was the right thing to do even if it would chap my ass to do it.

“Fine. The Kev, please continue,” Ethan said. “What were the scents at the portal openings?”

The Kev looked down at the floor for a long moment and then made eye contact with Ethan in one last silent plea to take the conversation private, but it was too late. The Kev was as aware of Vampyre politics as the rest of us and if we removed the visiting Vamps now, all Hell would break lose—as if it hadn’t already.

“I scented Dark Fairies which doesn’t surprise me,” he said with a disgusted shake of his head. “A good handful escaped from Xanthia recently. I spoke with The Dave about it and they are working to bring them back for trial.”

The Dave was a powerful Fairy who’d been incarcerated for hundreds of years by the evil, and now dead, The Corrine. The Dave was running Xanthia in Gemma’s absence. I’d had the distinct pleasure of meeting him and tried to bargain with him to be my father. He was that cool. Of course that didn’t exactly work out because I was an undead Vampyre and he was a Fairy, but it was a fun fantasy.

“As far as I’m aware, only Vampyres can find portals. Fairies can detect portal openings?” Ethan asked, surprised.

“No. It means they’re working with someone else,” The Kev confirmed.

“And the other scent?” Ethan asked.

“The other part isn’t a scent at all,” The Kev said slowly.

“What is it?” Venus asked.

The Kev paused yet again and rubbed his temples.

“Good god, man,” Francisco griped. “Get to it. We don’t have all day.”

With an exasperated sigh The Kev shrugged. “Witnesses have sworn that Astrid has been near each portal opening.”

“Well now, that’s certainly interesting,” Francisco piped up, engaged for the first time since he’d arrived.

“What the fuck?” I shouted. “I’m not opening the portals. The Fairies hate me. They’re probably paying who ever is said they saw me.”

“Astrid is not opening the portals,” Ethan growled at The Kev.

“I agree,” The Kev said. “But we have to follow the lead.”

“Could they have made a mistake?” Gemma asked, concerned for both me and The Kev.

“I wish,” The Kev said. “But no. Too many testimonies line up.”

“What species is implicating me?” I asked, furious at the ridiculousness of the accusation.

“Trolls,” The Kev said.

“It’s like Lord of the Rings with real death,” Spike said with wide eyes and an excited expression.

“Can it, Spike,” I hissed, as he made the international zip the lip sign and gave me an apologetic shrug.

“Trolls lie,” Ethan snapped as Trista, Spike and Francisco began to whisper amongst themselves.

“The Trolls hate me,” I shouted. “They’re probably still pissed I didn’t give them Samuel. Like that was ever going to fucking happen.”

“Does anyone like you?” Trista inquired politely.

“Enough,” Ethan growled viciously at Trista who blanched at the ire of her Prince.

And now I knew why The Kev didn’t want to talk with others in the room. Following subtle hints was now on my list of things to learn how to do.

“We’re going,” I said as my power amped up and objects began to fly around the room.

“We’re going where?” Ethan demanded, ducking a few large books hurtling through the office.

“We’re going to the portals that have been opened and solve this bullshit once and for all,” I hissed.

“What about the wedding?” Gemma asked with wide eyes, as she too crouched down to avoid getting nailed by the flying fruits of my fury.

“If we don’t figure this out and clear my freakin’ name there won’t be a wedding. There will be a war,” I said.

“Astrid is correct,” Ethan said through clenched teeth, watching his generals enjoy this new fucked up twist immensely. “We leave at sundown. Everyone get ready.”

“Everyone?” Gareth asked, catching a flying Ming Vase midair and returning it safely to the side table.

“Are you able?” Ethan asked his brother. “I need you.”

Gareth nodded without hesitation.

“I’m in,” Venus said.

“As am I,” Gemma added.

“I’m a given,” The Kev said.

“We wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Trista said with a raised brow, speaking for herself, Francisco and Spike.

Fuckityfuckfuckfuck.

Chapter 13

“I have about an hour to set this crap straight and will hopefully be back in time for the wedding,” I said.

I paced the formal parlor and tried to focus on the matter at hand instead of the fact that Trista had probably informed the entire undead population that I was at the scene of the crimes. I couldn’t catch a break if it jumped up and bit me in the ass.

“Hooooopefullly?” Charles asked with tremendous concern.

He sat on the antique coffee table wringing his hands and bobbing his heads as the Baby Demons floated around him with worry. Charles and the Baby Demons had hit it off just as Mother Nature had predicted and from what I’d heard, had already taken several trips to Big Sean’s Booby Bungalow. I had no plans to touch that nugget—too disturbing.

I’d already spoken with Pam and The King. They were going to watch Samuel and guard him with their lives while Ethan and I were away. My Guardian Angel was unhappy as all get out and wanted to come, but realized protecting Samuel was equally as important—if not more so.

“Yes, hopefully,” I admitted with a shrug. “The Demon problem has taken a little turn for the worse and I need to pop some fuckers and kill some Fairies.”

“Ohhhhhhhh, sounds fuuun, Mommmmmmyyyyy!” Abe squealed as he turned little flips in the air and slapped Ross in the head at the same time.

“Do youuuuuu neeeeeeed us to come anddddd eeeeaaat them?” Rachel inquired politely.

“Um… no, but thank you. We’re keeping the contingent small,” I replied trying not to wince or gag.

My Baby Demons’ diet consisted of eating the most evil of Demons. It was all kinds of gross—just ask my biological father. Oh, wait. That’s impossible. They ate him. Abe, Beyoncé, Rachael and Ross were a menace to society, but they were loyal and I adored them. With the introduction of Charles, the foursome had become a fivesome. I dreaded the trouble they would get into, but I couldn’t think about that today.

“Charles the wedding invites are buttass ugly and who in the Hell did you send them to?”

“Ohhhh, thank youuuuuu,” he said, pleased with my assessment of his work.

“Wait, did you hear what I just said?” I asked, glancing over to see if he was screwing with me.

He wasn’t.

“Issssss buttassssss ugly a baaaaaddddd thing?” he asked, now unsure of himself.

“Oh my Uncle God,” I muttered as I thought for a brief moment it might not be such a bad thing if Ethan and I didn’t make it back in time. “Buttass ugly is a terrible thing, Charles. I want you to download a few classy wedding books and read them before you do anything else. I’m not going to be here to guide you and I don’t know what the Hell I’m doing anyway. Can you handle that?”

“Yesssssss,” he replied with his heads hanging contritely.

“Weeeeeeee will helpppppp him, Mommmmmmmyyyyy!” Ross informed me gleefully.

My stomach clenched with fear, but it was what it was. My wedding was considered a joke by most of my people and the actual event was going to prove them right. Whatever. I had bigger problems right now. However, I still needed a few more questions answered.

“Who did you send invitations to?” I asked Charles.

“Everrrrrrrryone on the liiiissssst,” he replied.

“What list?”

“The one Mooooother Nature and Saaaaatan gave meeeeee,” he replied starting to look a bit scared.

I was unsure if it was the look on my face that terrified him, or the fact that I’d just turned and zapped a chair, causing an explosion and an impressive fire. It was either the chair or him. I wasn’t confident I’d made the right choice, but he was a living creature, for the time being, at least—the chair wasn’t.

“That doesn’t work for me,” I snapped as I thought better of burning The Cressida House down and magically doused the blaze with water. “I only want friends and family—my friends and family. Can you fix this?”

“Ummmmmm, yessssssss?” Charles replied, looking like he had to take a poop.

“Good. Fix it. Where’s Fat Demon Doug?” I asked, looking around. I’d expected him to be here break dancing up a storm.

“He’s in Nirvanaaaaaa with Moooother Nature working on a pole daaaaance for the reeeeceptionnnn,” Charles let me know calmly, as if that was even a remotely normal sentence.

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that,” I said, trying my best to be diplomatic and not incinerate anything or anyone in the room.

“Wooorks for meeeeee,” Charles affirmed, nodding all three of his heads.

“Here’s what I do know I want. I want Grandpa to give me away. I don’t care if Satan pitches a hissy fit about this. I have excellent blackmail material on the Devil and I’m more than willing to use it. You will not let the Prince of Darkness wheedle his way into escorting me or I’ll remove two of your heads with a dull butter knife. Gemma is my maid of honor and The King is Ethan’s best man. Gemma and The King will walk together down the aisle and Pam will walk with The Kev. Raquel and Heathcliff are together and Dixie will walk with Hayden. Venus will shit a brick, but she’ll walk with Gareth. Paris will walk with my Cousin Jesus. You got that?” I asked as I watched Charles scribble frantically on a pad held steady by the Baby Demons.

“Gooooot it, no Satan. Looooose heads ifffffff I fuuuuuckkkk up. Dullll butter kniffffe.”

“Right. I want Journey to play at the reception. Under no circumstance will anyone kidnap Steve Perry. He’s agreed to do it because he’s my friend. However, Satan has to stay at least fifty feet away from him the entire time.”

“Shiiiiiit,” Charles mumbled as he began to sweat the details.

“The Seven Deadly Sins can attend, but they have to behave or Mother Nature will take them to Nirvana for punishment. Samuel is the ring bearer and Bambi the Hell Hound is the flower girl.”

“Gooooood choices. Baaaambiii is hot,” Charles congratulated me.

I wouldn’t call Bambi hot by any stretch of the imagination, but she smelled like brownies and I loved her.

“Oh and put in a call to Uncle God and see if he can arrange for someone to do the ceremony,” I said, praying I’d covered it all.

“Preference on the foooooood?” Charles inquired.

“I don’t eat, so no. Just make sure Mother Nature doesn’t cook it.”

“Willllll do.”

“That should cover it,” I said, sitting down and trying to calm myself. Today was sucking huge wads.

“What aboooout the Bachelorette and Bachelor parttttttiessss?” Beyoncé asked.

“Shit, I forgot about those,” I mumbled as I let my head drop in defeat.

What was I thinking? Planning a wedding in a week and letting a three headed monster take the lead with the help of four sex obsessed Baby Demons was going to blow up in my face. Did this human ritual really matter that much to me?

Yes. Yes it did. Crap.

“Skip the parties. We probably won’t be back anyway.”

“Nooooooooo,” Rachel said with an expression of horror on her cute little Demon face. “Please, please plllleeeeaaasssseeeeee, let us arrange theeeemmmm!”

Against my better judgment, I nodded my head. “It can’t be disgusting and I don’t want male strippers. Am I very, very clear?” I asked, already regretting my decision, but they were so damned excited I decided to eat it.

“Yessssssssssss!” Rachel sang and flew around the room like a little bullet filled with joy.

“Ooookay.” I stood and gathered the alarming evil quintet up in my arms. “You little bastards behave yourselves and make sure my wedding is beautiful. Deal?”

My answer was lots of wet sloppy kisses and a few grabs of my ass. Nothing out of the ordinary.

***

“You need us,” Martha said tearing off the nun’s habit to reveal purple booty shorts, a green midriff shirt, yellow socks and black orthopedic shoes.

“Sweet Baby Jesus in a thong,” I said, turning away from the horrific sight. “You look like a fucking Mardi Gras reject from Hell.”

“That’s nothing,” Jane grunted with pride. “I look like a Christmas tree on crack.”

She was correct. While her outfit was similar to her sister’s the color scheme was red, green and silver with matching black shoes.

“Do you idiots ever look in the mirror?” I asked.

“Can’t. We’re dead,” Martha explained.

“No reflection,” Jane added seriously.

“That certainly justifies part of it,” I muttered. “And no, you’re not coming.”

“You’re making a huge mistake, Boobalishous McKnockserman,” Jane informed me, as she armed herself to the teeth with throwing stars. A weapon with which she was wildly untalented.

“How’s that?” I asked, watching Martha load herself down with daggers and grenades. “You two get into trouble just standing there. You’d be a liability.”

“I beg to differ, Breasticle Udderbomb,” Martha corrected me primly.

I really didn’t have time for this, but I always asked questions I didn’t want the answers to.

“Explain,” I said waiting for either bullshit or frogs to fly from their mouths.

Unfortunately, neither did.

“The Fairies are obsessed with us after we won American Idol in Xanthia,” Martha pointed out sounding logical for once. “We’re rock stars, even to the Dark Fairies.”

“That goes a long way with those flying sparkly fuckers,” Jane further reasoned. “We could provide an outstanding motherhumpin’ distraction if you need it.”

“Which I think you do,” Martha added looking very proud of herself.

Normally they rendered me mute because their words were so ridiculous, but this time it was because they made sense.

Shitshitshit.

Fairies were obsessed with reality TV—odd but true. They were also ear screechingly tone deaf. So when Martha and Jane, who were semi-competent at best, competed on Xanthia’s version of American Idol, their status rose to that of demigods. Their presence could be helpful—it might even save lives.

Ethan was going to blow a gasket.

“If you do anything to hinder or fuck up the mission, I will destroy you. This is not a game. Those sons of bitches are impersonating me somehow at the opened portals. I need to find them, question them and kill them. Am I making myself clear?”

“Sounds good to me,” Martha said.

“We know we’re annoying, Titties LaNipplehard, but we would die for you,” Jane said. “You saved us.”

“Several times,” Martha corrected her sister. “We’re not extremely fond of you and your knockers, but we’re loyal.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Jane said as she slapped her sister in the head. “We are fond of you, but we’ll deny it in public. So don’t go gettin’ any ideas about saying we’re friends,” she warned, shaking her bony finger in my face.

“No worries there,” I promised, trying not to laugh.

“Good. It’s solved then. We’re gonna help you take out those floating doucheknuckles,” Martha said with an evil little grin.

“And we have a surprise wedding gift for you!” Jane shouted with glee.

“Did you steal it?” I asked. It was a rational question considering they’d stolen every one of Samuel’s Christmas gifts they’d bought.

“Hell to the no,” Martha said with a grunt of laughter. “We’re gonna sing at your wedding.”

“Um… while that’s appallingly generous of you, I can’t let you do that,” I said, trying not to dry heave.

“I knew she’d be excited,” Jane shrieked at a pitch that could attract stray dogs. “You don’t worry about a thing. We practiced for twenty-three minutes yesterday and it sounds awesome. You’re gonna shit your britches.”

“That’s just… that’s just…” I couldn’t find anything to say. At all.

“It’s just great! You’ll see,” Martha yelled as she grabbed her sister and hustled to the door. “We’ll be ready to go in a spiffy. Let’s go kick some Fairy ass!”

With that they left. This day needed to end. I could take no more surprises. I either needed to get laid to reduce the stress or kill something. I supposed I’d have to settle for offing a bad guy. We still had a couple more days of abstinence before I could ride Ethan blind.

Fine. I could do this. No problem.

Yeah… right.

Chapter 14

“Am I supposed to thank you?” Mary asked with a sneer on her face and her fangs bared.

She was one dangerous and insane cookie. I was sure I could take her, but it would come at a price as she was several hundred years older than me. From everything I’d heard, she was an aggressive and deadly fighter. Going a few rounds with her would probably be fun and relieve some of my stress, but I was certain she was not one to fight fair.

I was having a difficult time figuring out why Ethan had chosen Harry-Mary to lead… maybe her crazy kept the Vamps in line. Or maybe it was time for her to be replaced.

I stared at her hard. I’d restored her because it was the right thing to do. I had every plan of returning home after I kicked some major ass, but on the off chance it didn’t go as planned there were very few people that could reverse a spell cast by Mother Nature. Lucky for her, I was one of them.

We stood face-to-face in her suite. She was beautiful again. I could fix the outer shell, but the insides were still rotten.

“Most honorable people would, but I didn’t expect anything from you. And while I’m still feeling magnanimous, I’d highly suggest you leave.”

“You’re kicking me out?” she demanded as her eyes burned green with hostility.

“Nope, Scary-Harry, I’m saving your worthless life yet again. I’d say you have quite a few people gunning for you at this point. And when I say leave, I’m suggesting someplace far, far away.”

“Why?”

“Are you stupid?” I asked with an eye roll. “I just told you that your days are numbered here. Mother Nature is a formidable enemy, and when Satan catches wind you insulted his mother, your ass is grass. Not to mention your buddies seemed to enjoy watching you get taken down by my grandma. Does that answer your idiotic question, Larry?”

“No.”

“Oh my God, I didn’t think Mother Nature removed your frontal lobe, but now I’m not so sure.”

“Why are you helping me? I haven’t exactly been accommodating,” Mary admitted grudgingly, but not backing down from her aggressive stance or tone.

“That’s certainly an understatement,” I shot back, and then shrugged. “Honestly, I’m not sure. You’re a colossal bitch, you slept with my mate—granted he can’t remember it, so it couldn’t have been that good—and you’re rude. I suppose the answer is I’m a better person than you. The end.”

I turned to leave. I was done with her. I was glad I changed her back, but if I never laid eyes on her again it would be too soon.

“I’ve had it with you, bitch,” she screamed, and came at me like a freight train from Hell.

And again I realized—albeit too late—that no good deed goes unpunished.

The force of her body threw me across the room with such violence I dented the wall with my head. She never would have succeeded in attacking me unless she had come like a coward behind my back. However, I was to blame for that as I’d turned it on her. Unacceptable. I spun and faced her grinning form ear to ear.

“Thank you, Larry,” I said with a wink and a smirk that made her growl.

“For what?” she ground out as she rocked back and forth on her feet looking for another opening.

“For granting me permission to kick your sorry ass.”

“Try it,” she challenged. “You might be surprised.”

“And you might die,” I shot back coldly.

For a brief second I saw a flicker of uncertainty in her eyes, but a moment was all I needed. Mary-Harry-Scary-Larry was more bark than bite. I—on the other hand—was not.

Waiting patiently was something The Kev had taught me well. Mary’s anger would make her sloppy and easily defeated. What I didn’t count on was her gift.

Fuck.

One second she was there and the next she was gone. I quickly backed up against the wall so she couldn’t come at me from behind again. If there was a freakin’ manual about Vampyre gifts, I needed to find it and read it. I was able to see through cloaking. What Mary was doing was something different. While surprises from Prada were lovely, being caught off-guard by a jealous shrew who wanted me dead wasn’t welcome.

“Interesting.” I closed my eyes to find my center.

As my eyes were useless, I knew the only shot I had was feeling her essence. I left my body and let it float around the room. Damn this was a nice room—very Shabby Chic with muted peach florals and over stuffed comfortable furnishings. I wondered what the rest of the guest rooms in our massive house looked like. Maybe I would take a tour sometime… or maybe I should put my head back in the game of cat and mouse I was playing.

Bingo.

Mary’s fury made her ghostly presence a bloody red color with jagged black and purple swirls dancing through it. It was an incredible trick and would have worked on someone less powerful. But Mary was clearly too arrogant to take into account who she was dealing with.

I smiled and heard the apparition snarl angrily. Reaching deep with in me, I pulled on the magic I liked to pretend I didn’t have. It was dark and it took a toll on me in ways I declined to think about, but I had a lot of shit to do this evening and being fucked with by Mary wasn’t one of them.

With an angry curse through my clenched teeth, I doubled forward as my dark magic shot through my body like a white-hot dagger. There was always a price to pay for playing with fire and right now I was willing suffer the consequences. Sparkling pink and silver iridescent mist engulfed the room as a violent wind blew up and Mary’s spectral form was revealed.

My body was covered in black glitter. From Mary’s shocked expression, I was fairly certain I looked like an Angel from the bowels of Hell with a wind machine in the background like they used for effect in the movies. However, this wasn’t a movie. It was very real and Mary was very done.

“That was a neat trick, but I have things to do and places to be,” I explained calmly, as I raised my hands and violently threw her against the wall with a blast of magic. “Give me one good reason I shouldn’t end you now, Mary.”

She fought and struggled to no avail against the viselike grip of my power. I watched as a myriad of expressions flitted over her face. She was trying to figure out if I was for real. I made a point of checking my nonexistent watch, and then waited. I might have zapped her a few times to speed the process, but hey, I had business to attend to and she was starting to bore me. Around the fourth sizzling blast of magic that sent her into a rather unattractive convulsion, she figured out that I wasn’t fucking around.

“You didn’t do it,” she snarled.

“Didn’t do what?” I questioned, as I approached her with my hands still raised in the air ready to put her out of everyone’s misery.

“You didn’t open the portals,” she choked out.

I stopped my forward motion and waited.

“You weren’t there either.”

“Well duh,” I hissed, advancing on her with another shot of warning magic. My fiery hot hands encircled her neck as her eyes grew large with fear. “There is no way you should know anything about that situation as you weren’t in the room when we spoke of it. I know for a fact that Trista, Spike and Francisco have been in the weapons room since the meeting. Ethan and The Kev won’t leave them alone for a second because we don’t trust them any more than we trust you. So unless you’d like to clue me in as to why you know what’s going on, I will do one better than Mother Nature and leave you a maimed, simpering fool. Would you like that, Mary?”

The lovely suite was now filled with sparking black smoke due to my fury. I stared at my hands around her throat and I pressed hard. She would be so easy to eliminate, but that would not be my smartest move. Mary-Harry-Scary-Larry still needed to talk.

Loosening my hold on her neck slightly, I got right in her face. “Talk now or forever hold your peace—in Hell.”

“I was there,” she choked out, as she tried to pry my finger from her neck.

That was not happening.

“Not good enough,” I spat. “I could pop you like a bug, Harry. I’d hate to mess up my Gucci leather pants because I look really cute in them, but I will. Getting a little dirty in the name of removing some shit from the world doesn’t faze me a bit.”

“My gift is dematerializing to mist,” she cried out hoarsely. “You know I’m not lying, you just experienced it. I’ve been following you. I know you haven’t left the compound. You couldn’t have been two places at once.”

“That’s incredibly creepy… and pathetic,” I said as I let her go. At least I knew the name of her parlor trick now.

She dropped to the floor like a sack of potatoes and clutched at her singed neck. However, I wasn’t done with my new pal. Waving my hands again, I flung her up in the air where she hung like a helpless rag doll.

“Have you been around my son?” I demanded in a voice so low, I unnerved myself.

Her silence was my answer. She had to die.

The Vampyre could have taken Samuel and I never would have known. Fuck with me any day of the week, but fuck with my child and there will be Hell to pay.

“Mary, I’m going to make this very simple for you. I am a True Immortal—virtually unkillable. Samuel is as well, but you see… if you mess with my son, you mess with me. You’re actually screwing with all of mankind as Samuel is a very special immortal. Skulking around and spying on me is nothing compared to the fact that you felt someone as classless and worthless as yourself could secretly be in the presence of my child. I’m Compassion. I only kill in self-defense, or if someone is a danger to our existence. You fall into the category of real danger. Give me one outstanding reason I shouldn’t kill you in the next minute.”

“I would never harm your child,” she insisted frantically. “I just wanted to be closer to Ethan. I thought if the child liked me…”

“Get over that,” I hissed. “Ethan doesn’t recall sleeping with you. I’m his mate and Samuel is our child. Please note for your own health that I’m wildly possessive and extremely in love with my mate. Sadly for you, he feels the same way about me. So here’s how it’s going to go down, you have thirty seconds to plead your life. Because I will kill you, not because you have delusions of grandeur about Ethan—that’s simply tragic, but because you dared to endanger my baby.”

“I don’t want to sleep with Ethan,” she insisted wildly.

“Um… try again.”

“Fine, I do. But I realize now that it will never happen. If I can’t have him, I want his respect.”

“You have a fucked up way of going about that,” I snapped. “Do you want to live?”

“Yes.”

“Fine. You have something that I want. You give it to me—you live. You don’t—you die. Very easy and straight forward. Can you work with that, Barry?”

She nodded and tried as hard as she could to look contrite, but it just wasn’t in her. Whatever. Her character wasn’t my problem. Getting information out of her was.

“If I wasn’t at the portals. Who was?”

“I don’t know,” she replied rudely with a shrug. “I was here.”

“Were you?” I asked, as I cocked my head to the side and narrowed my eyes. “The other explanation if you’re so sure it wasn’t me is that it was you there at the portals. You certainly have a motive.”

“That’s not my gift,” she hissed.

“Not following.”

“Morphing is not my gift, you stupid baby Vampyre,” she snapped. “Figure it out. You were seen at the openings.”

Morphing? What the Hell was she talking about? The only Vampyre that could morph was Raquel’s half brother, Jean Paul. A whole buttload of Vamps might not like me, but Jean Paul didn’t fall into that category. I would bet my undead life on that one. This was total bullshit and a waste of my time.

Wait.

Oh shit…

No. Fucking. Way.

“Spike? But I like Spike.”

“You are a poor judge of character,” she replied with a nasty little laugh.

“What the fuck?” I shouted, as I spun around and blew up the furniture in the room. “I’m supposed to be planning my wedding with a three headed monster. I’m supposed to be getting manicures and pedicures and opening wedding presents. I haven’t even booked a photographer yet.”

“Why would you need a photographer?” she asked, perplexed.

“To take pictures, nimrod.”

“No one would show up in them—we’re undead. Skip the photographer,” Mary replied logically.

“Point,” I agreed, even though it was difficult to take someone hanging in the air like a marionette with no strings seriously.

“Nix the photographer. I always forget about the reflection thing. My damn dress hasn’t arrived and I left the planning of my bachelorette party to four Baby Demons who think strip clubs are high entertainment. Do you see why this isn’t working for me?” I demanded as I accidentally set my pants on fire.

“Um… you’re smoldering,” Mary said, pointing to the burning leather.

“Goddamn it,” I shouted, dousing the flames and then calming myself with effort. “So you think Spike is impersonating me at the portal openings?”

“I think it’s possible,” Mary said carefully.

“But he’s not opening the portals,” I shot back, remembering Samuel’s assessment of Spike.

“The Kev said there was Fairy essence there as well.”

“True, the Fairies don’t like me at all,” I muttered.

“Not many people seem to like you very much,” Mary commented.

“Pot, kettle, black,” I said, matching her bitchy tone. “Now I’d like to ask you why?”

“Why what?”

“Why the information?”

“Two reasons,” she replied smoothly as she attempted to look dignified while dangling up above. She failed. “I despise Spike far more than I despise you.”

“Reason two?” I questioned. Her reasoning was heinous which made it believable… Vampyres were a very nasty lot.

“You spared my life and restored my beauty,” she finished.

“Well, you’re certainly vain.”

“Pot, kettle, black,” Mary repeated my words right back at me.

She wasn’t exactly wrong, but she wasn’t right either.

“I might be a materialistic Prada whore who has a slight obsession with shoes and purses and Chanel lipstick and few hundred other meaningless things, but we are nothing alike, Mary. While there may be a few unfortunate similarities, I have morals and a conscience. You lost yours a very long time ago.”

“Possibly,” she agreed. “But looks can be deceiving.”

“Pun intended?” I couldn’t help myself.

“Very.”

“Sorry to leave you hanging—not,” I said with a humorless laugh as I moved toward the door. “But I have to go play Buffy the Vampyre Slayer for a bit. I’d say it’s been a lovely visit, but it hasn’t. As soon as I’m done here, I’ll let you down and you will leave. Permanently. Capisce?”

“Take me with you,” she begged. “If it’s Spike, I want his head. He ruined my life. I’d like to kill him for a legitimate reason.”

“Do I look like an idiot to you?” I demanded as she raised a brow pointedly. “Do not answer that. Why in the Hell do you think I would trust you enough to let you free?”

“Two reasons.”

“Oh my Uncle God,” I griped. “Are we back to this game?”

Mary went on ignoring my sarcasm. “One, I owe you my life which means I’m unfortunately in your debt until I can return the favor. I know Spike far better than you ever will. My presence will throw him off.”

“And two?” I questioned, knowing every aspect of the first point was accurate.

“I want Ethan’s respect. I can’t have his love, but if I can save what he does love… I’ll have the most I will ever get from him,” she said quietly unable to meet my eyes.

I watched her struggle with the impact of her admission and I actually felt sympathetic. What the Hell was wrong with me? Sometimes this compassionate shit sucked. I might be tolerant, but I wasn’t a pushover. I was a deadly motherhumpin’ powerful freak of nature.

“You make one wrong move and I will kill you so dead you won’t even know what hit you. Clear?” I told her.

“Very,” she said. “I’ll have your back. I’ll do nothing to harm anyone you love, but once I save your life, all bets are off.”

“Fair enough.”

The knowledge that no good deed goes unpunished kept bouncing around my brain, but my gut said to go with the plan.

My damned gut had better be right this time.

Chapter 15

We entered the large weapons facility to find a very confused group of Vampyres and Fairies. Venus, Gemma, The Kev, Gareth, Martha, Jane, Francisco and Trista stared at me like I had two heads. Was Mary doing something weird next to me?

I glanced over at my hostile ally but she was just staring back at the surprised Vamps.

“Ohhhhhh,” I said, realizing the confusion. “I restored Mary. Mother Nature went a little too far and I just thought it was the right thing to do. It’s all good. She owes me her life and all that crap, so she’s coming with us tonight.”

The peanut gallery was still mute.

“Seriously guys, it’s fine. Mary knows I’ll wipe her ass off the face of the earth if she even looks at anyone wrong. Right, Mary?” I asked in a politely civil tone, to show my peeps I’d made the correct move.

“Right,” she agreed equally as politely. “Why is David Cassidy here?”

I waited patiently for The Kev to set her straight on his disguise, but he simply stood there gaping at me with alarm written all over his Michael Bolton face.

“What the Hell is wrong with you people?” I demanded, starting to feel very uncomfortable. “Truly, Mary is fine. It’s all under control. I mean she’s still a rude bee-otch and all… Wait. Where’s Ethan?”

“He’s with you,” Gemma whispered in distress.

“Um, no. He’s not with me. I was just in Mary’s suite kicking her ass around a little until we came to a belligerent compromise. Gareth, note I said compromise, not consensus. I won.”

I expected something sarcastic from my brother-in-law’s mouth—or at the very least a comment about Venus’ ass, but nothing came.

“Okay, you guys are going to give me gas which is impossible since I have no internal organs. What’s happening here?” I snapped.

“You told us that you’d received information from Satan about the portals,” Venus said speaking calmly, but the slight tremor in her voice made my blood run cold. “You told us there was a new plan and it didn’t include us.”

“What?” I shouted as fear and anger gripped me.

“You said that Satan only needed you and Ethan to come. He had it covered and too many of us would destroy the plan,” The Kev insisted. “You were right here not even five minutes ago. I fought you on it, but you pulled the Chosen One card.”

“I would never do that,” I said, as I began to pace the room in agitation.

This was not good.

“I thought it was out of character,” Gemma said, taking The Kev’s hand in hers. “But you’re under so much pressure now, I didn’t listen to my gut.”

“It wasn’t me.” I glanced wildly around the room and just as I suspected, Spike was missing. “It’s Spike. He morphed into me and lied. He’s the one who’s been at the portals. How could Ethan think he was me?”

“We all did,” The Kev said, shocked.

“Spike can be very convincing when he wants to. His gift is like no other morpher’s,” Trista informed us from the back of the group, trying to hide her smirk.

“Absolutely genius,” Francisco added with grudging admiration.

“You two.” I growled as I pointed at Francisco and Trista. I released a wave of magic from my fingertips and levitated them into the air, rendering them helpless. “You two knew Spike was gone, but you did nothing to stop it.”

They hung silently and glared.

“Mary, start talking fast, or you’re gonna be hanging there with them.”

“There was a loose plan to discredit you,” Mary said as she glared at the furious Trista and Francisco. “Nothing solid was decided, so I assumed it was moot.”

“Watch what you say, Mary,” Trista snarled as she hung in the air. “We have plenty of ammunition to blacken your reputation with your beloved Ethan.”

“Go to Hell,” Mary shouted. “You wanted her gone as much as the rest of us. At least my reason was realistic.”

“That’s debatable,” I said as I watched the drama unfold. With a flick of my fingers, I levitated Mary as well. I added a little extra painful zap to Trista and Francisco just because I could. My kind understood pain and violence. I was happy to indulge their expectations. “Did you know what Spike was doing? Are you part of this plan?”

“No,” Francisco said, gnashing his fangs at me. “We don’t work as a team—never have and never will. We developed our own plans. Mary was supposed to seduce Ethan. Trista was supposed to kill the child. I was to find blackmail information on you to halt the division of wealth or kill you if there was nothing to be found. And Spike? Spike always did his own thing.”

“We had no idea what Spike was going to do. I never thought he was very smart with all the film talk nonsense, but now you’ll be blamed for everything,” Trista snarled at me as she wriggled and tried to free herself. “The brilliant Spike marches to his own drummer.”

“His next performance will be the death march,” I snapped as I turned and let Mary down with a slash of my hand through the air.

She fell to the floor with a thud and crawled to her feet with as much dignity as she could.

“Let us down as well,” Francisco bellowed. “She is as guilty as we are.”

I slowly glanced up at Francisco and Trista. My hair blew around my head and my eyes had turned a sparkling blood red. My voice lowered in pitch and it took everything I had not to fry them where they hung.

Their gasps of fear were music to my ears and my own friends backed away from me just in case I went ballistic. With a quick glance to my mentor, The Kev, I found my inner balance and touched the tattoo on my chest that had been a gift from my Baby Demons. Power, both dark and light coursed through my veins and I floated up to the deceitful Vamps.

“Can’t do that,” I stated calmly to the terrified Trista and Francisco. “You see, Mary owes me her life. She is beholden to me in ways that you are not.”

“I demand to be released. Our people will not tolerate this kind of treatment from someone as worthless as you,” Trista snarled. “You’re an abomination.”

“You may be right,” I agreed with a smile that came nowhere near to reaching my eyes. “But the prophecies make me your leader. And while I might not be your first choice—I’m not even my first choice—it is what it is. I am fair and I have morals. Something the two of you wouldn’t understand.”

I floated nearer and got close enough that whispering would suffice.

“I’m not going to kill you,” I murmured quietly. “Nope, I’m going to do something much worse. You see, my Uncle really enjoys new friends. Normally he has to coerce people to join him in Hell.”

“Or kidnap them,” Venus added from the floor.

“Exactly,” I agreed with my friend. “Rarely does he receive a gift of such highly esteemed Vampyres to play with. He’ll be so happy.”

“You’ll do no such thing,” Francisco shouted. “Our people won’t allow this.”

“Our people are in for some changes,” I explained in a flat tone. “And some new leaders. If you have anything else to say, I’d suggest you come clean now. It might make your time in Hell a bit less, um… excruciating.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Trista said, baring her fangs at me. “Your mate, the Prince, will be dead this evening and you’ll be blamed. The monarchy will fall apart. You will lose.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” I informed her as the room began to tremble with my fury. “Spike could never eliminate Ethan. My mate’s power far exceeds that of that Buffy the wannabe Vampyre slayer.”

“But you could kill him.” Trista hissed, her eyes wild with insane glee. “He would never harm you.”

“Sweet Hell on earth, she’s right,” The Kev said, alarmed. “Ethan won’t fight you. He believes Spike is you.”

My vision blurred and I wanted to crawl out of my skin. This was not happening. Why did I think being a Vampyre-Demon was okay? Was every moment for the rest of eternity going to be like this? Was my life and the lives of everyone I loved going to be in danger because of me?

“Unacceptable,” I roared as a violent wind blew up and scattered everyone all over the room. “Satan, come to me.”

The wind amped up and black and gold glitter obscured everything in sight, but I knew where I was and I knew what I was doing. I just needed to move quickly.

“Really?” Satan coughed in annoyance as he appeared half dressed. “I was just getting to the good part with Jessica.”

“I thought it was Esmeralda,” I said as I took in the ungodly beautiful sight of my half naked Uncle.

“That was last night. Jessica is every Wednesday,” he explained with a shrug of masculine pride. “This had better be good.”

“It is,” I replied. “I have some Vampyres to loan you for a while. They seem quite keen to spend some time in Hell.”

“Interesting” Satan purred. He snapped his fingers and halted the windstorm. “I’ve been a bit bored lately.”

His evil chuckle even made me uncomfortable…

“You can’t kill them. It will be Ethan’s honor to destroy them,” I warned. “But they came here to kill me and Samuel.”

Satan glanced up at the dangling and now petrified Vamps and winked. “Are they daft? You can’t be killed except with The Sword of Death and neither can our boy Samuel. Stupidity is such a wonderful trait. I’m very fond of playing with stupid people.”

“Yes, well, they’re yours until further notice.”

“You will let us go immediately,” Francisco shrieked.

I was certain if he was capable of pissing himself, he would have.

“I’m sorry,” Satan said silkily as sparks of fire began to dance lovingly around his entire body. “Did you say something?”

“I said you will let us go at once,” Francisco demanded, cowering back from Lucifer.

“I had no idea you wanted to visit Hell so badly. Far be it from me to delay your request,” Satan replied, misunderstanding him on purpose. “Your wish is my command.”

My gorgeous and very evil Uncle waved his pinkie at the hanging traitors and they disappeared in billowing red and golden flames. Their screams could be heard as they got sucked into the fire and transported to Hell.

“Do not under any circumstances kill them,” I told Satan. “Punish them certainly, but stop short of death.”

“Astrid, Astrid, Astrid,” he said with a pouty expression on his pretty face. “You really are no fun. And to think I was under the impression your Demon side was coming to the forefront.”

“You thought wrong. Do we have a deal?” I inquired, as I let my power recede some and floated back down to the floor.

“Yes,” he said slowly and clasped his hands together with delight. “But you will owe me for this.”

“I know,” I shot back. “What do you want?”

The King of Darkness pursed his lips and feigned deep thought. “Can I get back to you on that one?”

“Do I have a choice?”

“No,” he replied with a laugh and a quick hug. “I love my job. See you at the wedding, darling niece.”

With that he blasted away in an enormous puff of black glitter. I prayed he’d hold true to his word, but right now I didn’t really care. I had to find Ethan.

“Where did they go?” I demanded of my friends.

“We don’t know,” The Kev said in frustration. “You said you knew of the next portal that would be opened. You said you were going to ambush the Fairies with the help of the Demon SWAT Team.”

“First of all, it wasn’t me. Let’s get that shit straight,” I snapped.

The Kev nodded and began to glow. “Bottom line, we don’t know where Spike took Ethan.”

“This is a freakin’ clusterfuck,” Martha yelled. She ripped weapons off the wall and shoved everything she could fit into the pockets of her camouflage jumpsuit.

“We need to find that pecker head and rip his ass to shreds,” Jane grunted as she too grabbed whatever deadly device she could find.

My dread increased as I imagined the worst happening to the man who was my reason for living, aside from my son. Ethan had to say I do on Saturday and then bang me until I couldn’t walk. Dying was not in the plans.

“Gareth,” I yelled, scaring everyone in the room. “You can call your siblings to you, can’t you?”

“Yes,” he said, limping toward me.

He looked horrible, but I needed him.

“When we were in Paris you were able to go to them because they were caged and couldn’t come to you. Right?”

“Right,” he said as a triumphant smile began to pull at his still beautiful mouth. “How many of us do I have to transport? I can’t move all of us. I’m too weak and we could end up lodged in a black hole somewhere.”

“That would suck ass,” Jane muttered to a nodding Martha.

“How many can you handle?” I asked as I slid an extra katana into a sling and belted it on.

“Five including you and me,” he said. “I hope… I need a minute or two to prepare.”

“Five it is,” I said ignoring his doubt and scanning the room to figure out which three to take. “The Kev, Venus and Mary. You will come with us.”

Gemma bowed her head in disappointment and stepped back.

“I’m sorry, Gemma. Mary can turn to mist and move behind Spike if I need her to. Venus is a bloody Vampyre killing machine and The Kev is… well he’s The Kev,” I said as I took her face in my hands. “Plus the Fairies would love to have your head on a platter. Can you forgive me?”

“I can do you one better,” she said with a small smile on her lovely face.

She placed her delicate hands on my head and chanted a short haunting melody. A tingle shot through my body and settled low in my abdomen. My balance was off for a few seconds and my vision blurred to the point I had to reach out and hold onto Gemma for balance.

“What did you do?” I whispered as I slowly came back to myself.

“You have some immunity to the Fairies now. Your focus needs to be on Ethan. If the Dark Fairies are present you just need to blow on them,” she replied.

“Will it kill them?” I asked, still a little confused from the new magic swirling inside my body.

“How does it make you feel?” she asked, eying me with concern.

“Dizzy, blurry—weird,” I replied.

“Multiply that by a thousand and that’s what it will temporarily do to the Fairies,” she promised and then hugged me tight. “You will be careful. You have a wedding to go to on Saturday.”

“I will,” I told her.

“Ain’t you gonna tell us you’re sorry, Booby Boobmeister?” Jane demanded with her bony arms crossed over her sagging chest.

“Um, am I supposed to?” I asked with raised brows.

“I think it’s only fitting,” Martha said, squinting at me.

I pretended to sigh dramatically even though breathing wasn’t in my repertoire. “Actually, I am sorry. You could have been an appallingly wonderful distraction, but now that the game has changed, I think you’re more valuable here protecting our boy.”

“You hear that?” Jane crowed to the room. “She called him our boy!”

“Bout motherhumpin’ time she realized how fucking important we are in that baby’s upbringing,” Martha grumbled with a delighted grin on her face.

“It’s time,” Gareth said tersely.

The magic was taking a toll on him, but no one would ever hear a complaint from the dying Vampyre. Even Venus looked worried, but his narrow-eyed glare made everyone swallow any words of concern we might have uttered.

“Put your hands on me,” he instructed. “Venus, I’d like your hands on my ass please. Or if you feeling especially kind this fine evening, my dick is a little chilly.”

“You’re a pig, Gareth,” Venus snapped, but without her usual rancor towards him.

Maybe she was softening a bit toward the Vampyre…

The Kev, Mary and I put our hands on Gareth and waited.

“Hold on tight,” Gareth warned. “It’s going to be a bumpy ride.”

And that was the biggest understatement I’d ever heard.

Chapter 16

“Holy shit, are we still alive?” Venus whispered, looking around the dark hallway as we tried to untangle ourselves from each other.

“That was one Hell of a ride,” The Kev muttered, popping his neck and grinning. “Thought we were goners there for a minute or two.”

“I did warn you,” Gareth shot back with an unapologetic shrug.

“Where are we?” Venus asked.

“No clue,” I said as I took in the décor. “It’s butt-ass ugly though.”

“Word,” she said, gingerly touching an enormous golden lion statue.

It was a castle of some sort. It fell short of grand due to the tacky nature of the wall treatments, furniture and zoo of shiny statues—kind of nouveau riche gross. Satan would have adored the place.

“I don’t detect Fairies,” The Kev said quietly as he gently moved us all to the wall.

Gareth looked like he was going to collapse. His pallor—usually pale as most Vamps were—was now ghostly.

“You’ll stay here,” I instructed Gareth firmly. “I love you for transporting us, but you’re now a liability.”

“While it hurts my pride tremendously to agree with you… I do. I will wait here in the shadows for you to come back. I expect my brother to be with you,” he said.

“He will be,” I promised.

“Should he be alone?” Venus asked as she stared at Gareth with concern.

“Why Venus,” he purred. “Didn’t know you cared. What a lovely turn of events. I’m quite fine, but very horny…”

“Enough,” I snapped. “If he can talk about his dick, he’s fine.”

“I disagree,” The Kev said examining Gareth closely. “After the transport he needs blood. Venus are you willing to let him feed from you?”

Venus hesitated for a moment and stared at the man who’d once been so vibrant. “Yes. I will feed him and then come find you.”

“That works,” I said, realizing I was so focused on Ethan I wasn’t taking care of my people. I nodded in grateful respect to The Kev.

“We’re in Spike’s home,” Mary said, speaking for the first time since we arrived. “I was here about fifty years ago. We’re on the outskirts of Chicago. Lake Michigan is a few miles away.”

“He won’t be expecting us,” The Kev reminded us softly. “He’s probably in no hurry with whatever he has planned.”

“Possibly,” I agreed. “But we can’t count on that. I want to find them now.”

“Can you feel Ethan?” Mary asked.

I was well aware that she wanted to be the one with the ability to find him, but she wasn’t—and never would be. I closed my eyes and nodded curtly. He was here, but our bond was weak.

“He’s here, but he’s damaged,” I said as fire began to spit from my fingertips.

“Tamp it down,” The Kev warned. “We don’t want to blow our cover by burning the bastard’s house to the ground.”

I reined it in with difficulty. I’d burn his house down after I killed him.

“Do you remember anything about where Spike might like to be in his house?” Venus asked Mary in a cold tone.

She didn’t trust Mary. Hell, I didn’t trust Mary either, but Mary owed me and seemed to despise Spike more than all of us put together.

“On the main level in the back of the house is a studio,” she said, and began to move down the hallway at a quick clip. “He always fancied himself a movie star and had a film studio built in the house.”

“Seriously?” The Kev asked with a grunt of disbelief.

“Quite,” she replied. “Follow me.”

“If she leads us on a wild goose chase, I will kill her,” The Kev said as we jogged to catch up with Mary.

“No,” I corrected my trusted friend. “If she does that, she’s all mine.”

***

“Holy Hell,” I whispered as I took in the studio. It was an exact replica of the Buffy the Vampyre Slayer set. “I was joking about the Buffy thing with Spike and his name.”

“He changes his name on a regular basis depending on which movie Vampyre he’s obsessed with,” Mary snipped derisively. “Last year he was Edward.”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” I said with a humorless laugh. Spike was batshit crazy. How in the Hell did Ethan not know this?

“I know what you’re thinking,” Mary said. “But even with Spike’s movie obsession, he’s somewhat stable, although he’s scum. Bad things happen when you live forever, Astrid. No one should have to be like us.”

“Shhhh,” The Kev hushed us and pulled as behind the curtains. “Someone’s coming.”

Ethan and Astrid slash Spike entered the room. Ethan was a bloody mess. Spike dragged him along the floor with total disregard for his head or any other part of him.

“Ethan, if you had been a good boy and signed all the papers I wouldn’t have had to hurt you,” Spike whined in an exact replica of my voice.

“Amazing,” The Kev said under his breath.

“Over. This is over now,” I whispered and started to move out from behind the curtain.

Mary’s vise like grip on my arm stopped me. She nodded her head toward the scene and I froze. There was a contraption strapped to Ethan that held a silver stake aimed at his heart and Spike held some sort of remote.

“Now darling,” Spike purred. “You can’t go to sleep yet. There’s still so much to do before you die.”

“Astrid, what the Hell are you doing?” Ethan choked out weakly as blood poured from his mouth. “What has happened to you?”

“I’m tired, Ethan,” Spike said. “I’ve decided I don’t want to be a Vampyre anymore. Too many politics.”

“What?” he mumbled, confused. “You can’t simply decide not to be a Vampyre.”

“Really?” Spike asked in mock surprise as he kicked Ethan in the head. “That’s terrible news. However, you’re very wrong. Tell you what, you sign all of your immortal legal power to the Fairies and they’ll turn me human again. How about that? I know you want me to be happy.”

“What the fuck is he talking about?” I whispered to The Kev. “Is that true?”

“It’s a myth,” he said. “I wondered how the Fairies were finding the portals. It has to have been Spike.”

“It’s an elaborate plan,” I said, not sure The Kev was on the right track.

“It’s like a movie,” Mary whispered. “He’s starring in his own movie.”

“Let’s get to the part where he dies,” I said. “Mary, mist and go behind him. You’re going to take the remote. I’m going to reveal myself and get him to monologue. He’s such a shitty, arrogant fuck that I know he won’t be able to help himself.”

“I want to be the one to kill him,” Mary insisted with so much hatred in her voice I stopped and stared at her.

“Nope, that’s my role and I’m very good at it,” I replied. “What did Spike do to you?”

There was much more here than met the eye.

“He turned me against my will. I have to live forever because of that bastard,” she hissed as her eyes glowed green with loathing. “Is it really a lie about the Dark Fairies making immortals human?” she questioned The Kev harshly.

“It’s a lie,” he confirmed.

“I’m still not following the whole plot here,” I said. “This is a shitty B movie at best, but I do know it’s time for the credits to roll.”

“Let’s do it,” Mary said, as she disappeared before our eyes.

“Can she be trusted?” The Kev asked as I felt her float away.

“Yes,” I said with more certainty than I felt. “She has to be. I’m going to transport out and come through the door so he doesn’t realize I’ve heard everything.”

“It’s a plan,” The Kev said as he squeezed my hand.

“A good one?” I asked.

“That remains to be seen.”

Chapter 17

“Tell me I’m not seeing things,” I yelled, doing my best to sound awestruck as I stood in the doorway of the studio. “This has to be the set of Buffy the Vampyre Slayer! But look at you! Are we playing Parent Trap? You look exactly like me.”

Spike froze and then a slow, proud grin spread across his face. “I loved that movie,” he gushed. “I even liked the remake.”

“Me too!” I squealed as I stepped farther into the room. “When I realized you’d left without me, I tapped into Ethan’s and my mate connection and followed. Oh my God, what happened to Ethan?”

Spike didn’t miss one insane beat. “Oh Astrid,” he said sadly. “We tried to stop the Dark Fairies, but they beat him almost to death. I saved him.”

“Really?” I asked as I took a few more tentative steps forward. “Are the Dark Fairies still here?”

“No,” he replied. “I brought Ethan here to my home so they wouldn’t kill him.”

“That was so kind of you, Spike. Thank you.” I almost choked on my words, but they came out sounding truthful. I would walk through the fires of Hell to save my mate. Lying would be easy.

“You’re most welcome,” he said warmly, and then pressed his hands to his temples as if he had a headache. “Would you like a tour of the studio? I have the bed that Edward and Bella made love in from Twilight just over there.”

He pointed to the far left side of the cavernous room with delight—head pain apparently forgotten by fictional sparkly Vampyre sex.

“No. I think I’d like to check on Ethan. He doesn’t look so good.” Again I moved a little closer toward the love of my life.

“No, Astrid,” Spike bellowed as I saw him slip the remote into his pocket. “The Fairies put a contraption on him, and if we touch him, it will trigger the silver spike to pierce his heart. Stay back.”

Spike was getting nervous. He paced erratically clearly trying to find a way out of the Hellish mess he’d created.

Good luck with that. It was getting very close to his final bow.

I closed my eyes for a split second to find Mary. She was as good as her word. The mist was slipping into Spike’s pocket with the remote in it. I just prayed she could remove it without him knowing.

As unsettling as it was to speak to myself, I had to keep Spike talking. Until the remote was gone, Ethan’s life was still in danger.

“Are you an actor, Spike?” I asked, feigning great interest.

“Oh Astrid, you flatter me, but yes I am. I’ve done a few movies,” he said a gleeful lack of humility.

“As yourself?” I inquired, trying to keep my eyes on him instead letting them stray to Ethan.

“Nooooooo.” He laughed like I’d made an outstanding joke. “I simply take on others’ forms and then do the film. Kind of like I took on your form.”

“Amazing,” I said, attempting to sound like a fan-girl. “What movies have you been in?”

“Did you ever see Debby Does Dallas?”

“Um… the porno?” WTF? It was all I could do not to gag.

“I prefer to call it adult entertainment,” he corrected me sternly.

“Right. Sorry. Um, nope, I never saw that one.”

“Ohhhh, you should. I was wonderful. Would you like to see it? I have a lovely in-home theater with surround sound.”

Was he serious?

He was.

Mary needed to get the damned remote out now.

“Maybe some other time,” I told him with a smile that I hoped to Hell didn’t look like a grimace. “I really need to help Ethan now.”

Spike stared at me for a long moment and then wiped a nonexistent tear from his eye. “No one can help Prince Ethan,” he said as he went for his pocket. “He’s going to die tonight. I’m so sorry.”

“Ohmigosh!” I said wracking my brain for something of interest to give Mary more time. “You must know a lot of famous people.”

“I do!” Spike said removing his hand from his pocket and throwing both in the air. “But sadly the ones I enjoyed the most are dead now.”

“I’m sorry,” I said watching him closely.

“Yes, well it happens.”

“Isn’t it nice that we never die?” I asked testing the waters of a theory that he had planted only moments ago. I wanted the whole story before he died.

“Do you think so?” he asked, truly perplexed.

“Don’t you?”

He paused and stared hard at me for a bit and then resumed his pacing. “I don’t Astrid, but what would you know? You’re still in the natural time that a human should live. What are you? Thirty-five?”

“Thirty,” I corrected him, slightly insulted that he thought I was older than I was. It had been a Hell of a year, but I thought I was looking pretty good.

“Do you miss it?” he asked wistfully.

“Being human?”

“Of course,” he said getting a bit agitated. “You must miss it.”

I eased a little closer to Ethan and prayed that he would open his eyes and see me. “Um… well, I do miss eating. I miss ice cream and pizza and chips and salsa. Why?”

I watched Spike struggle with how much he wanted to say. “I like you Astrid. You’re different from the others. It was difficult for me to do the things I’ve had to do as of late, but when one is presented with one’s greatest desire one must go for it. I don’t wish this Hell on you. You have no idea how horrific it is to live for eternity.”

“I didn’t follow most of that,” I told Spike, prompting him explain himself.

“I didn’t expect you to, dear. I’m very cryptic,” he boasted as he mussed his hair, and then brushed at invisible lint on his jacket.

“Soon to be crippled,” I muttered under my breath.

“My point is that we are all doomed by this immortality. Everyone goes bad —everyone.”

“But we have no choice,” I told him in the most helpless voice I could pull out of my ass. “There’s no way out, Spike. We’re stuck like this forever.”

I dropped my head into my hands and pretended to cry. Spike’s delighted hiss was exactly what I was hoping for. Now I just needed the sick fuck to supply me with the rest of the pieces of the puzzle.

Spike ran to the far side of the studio to get something. Shit, I prayed like Hell that Mary was still in his pocket. Thankfully the studio was a fucking cavern and he was out of sight.

“Don’t move! I want to show you something I think you will find interesting. I just need to find it.”

“Waiting with bells on,” I called out, as I squatted down where I stood and whispered to Ethan. “Baby, it’s me. The real me.”

His eyes opened and he stared in confusion. My non-beating heart was lodged in my throat. His bleeding was excessive and if I didn’t get this show on the road I feared he would bleed out—beyond unacceptable. I needed the fucking remote.

“Spike morphed into me. He has a remote in his pocket that activates the stake to pierce your heart. Mary misted and is going to get the remote and then Spike is a dead fucker. You just hold on. You understand me?”

“You don’t want to be a Vampyre,” he whispered brokenly, choking on his own blood.

“Spike doesn’t want to be a Vampyre. I’m playing along until I can get the remote,” I told him wanting to cry.

“I love you, Astrid,” he said as he closed his eyes again.

“If you die, I will make your afterlife a living Hell,” I warned him, holding back my tears with super human effort.

Spike was whistling as he made his way back over. I stood quickly and clapped my hands in excitement. “Is it a present?” I asked, playing the vapid idiot to a hilt.

“Kind of. Can I trust you?” he asked, narrowing his eyes and glancing suspiciously over at Ethan.

“Since we’re twinsies, I don’t see why not,” I replied as I waggled my eyebrows at him.

His laugh went through me like shards of glass. “You are so funny,” he squealed, clearly coming more unhinged with each passing second. “I had a good feeling about you from the moment we met. When you mentioned Buffy the Vampyre Slayer, I knew we were kindred spirits.”

“So?” I asked, eyeing the paper in his hands.

He made great show of unfolding the paper as if it were the most precious fiber ever created. I could scent Dark Fairy dust on the note, which I was certain held a death warrant for me written in some kind of magical ink. Spike gently caressed the paper and then raised to eyes Heavenward and closed them.

“This is a promise to make me human again,” Spike whispered reverently, opening his eyes wide with joy. “The Dark Fairies can make an immortal human again.”

“You’re kidding,” I said, reaching for the paper so he stayed focused on me.

He snatched back, held it close to his chest, and made little tsking sounds as his grin grew wider and his fangs dropped.

“No, my dear. I’m not kidding. I’ve made a little deal with them and that’s where you come in. Did you know that you and Ethan are despised by the Dark Fairies?” he inquired with a giggle.

“I’d heard that,” I answered vaguely, as I watched the remote float out of his pocket and get whisked across the room. I wanted to lift my hands and blow Spike to smithereens, but I knew a bit more of the plot of this fucked up movie would be very helpful.

“Yes,” Spike said flatly. “They want you dead. Since I didn’t really know you at the time of the negotiations, I agreed to the plan. It’s really quite brilliant.”

“Really?”

“Yes! All I had to do was pretend to be you after I showed them where the portals were. You would be blamed and the monarchy would be in chaos. All those nasty Demons would wreak havoc and the Fairies could take over. But do you want to know the best part?”

“I’m not really sure I do,” I said as Mary materialized about ten feet behind Spike with the remote in her hand.

“Because I helped them, the Dark Fairies will restore my humanity. I will live out a normal life and die a natural death. This immortal shit is for the birds. Which, by the way, was a wonderful movie starring Tippi Hedren.”

“How is Ethan involved with this?” I asked, tamping down the fire that begged to explode out of me.

“Oh, he really isn’t. It was simply a thrilling B plot to the story. There were never any solid plans as far as you and he were concerned. I was improvising. It’s very exciting, isn’t it?”

“I think you might have read the wrong script,” I said evenly as The Kev slipped out from behind the curtain and stood silently with the seething Mary.

“Oh no. It’s all happening better than I could have dreamed. The Dark Fairies will be back eventually and you will be here to greet them. They’ll be delighted with me.”

I took a huge risk and let my eyes stray from the nut job. The Kev was examining the contraption on Ethan’s chest and Mary was on her knees beside my mate. They didn’t make a sound and I prayed Spike would be too caught up in himself to turn before Ethan was safe. I watched as they carefully pulled him behind a large set piece. I could spot The Kev and Mary, but Ethan was now hidden from my view. Using magic to help him was too risky. He was still bleeding profusely and I needed to be able to see him better before I made any calls on how to take him home.

“I don’t think so Spike. But that’s not your real name is it? What is your real name? You look like a Herbert or a Marvin to me.”

The appalled expression on Spike’s face almost made me laugh, but the situation held no humor. His death was going to be an execution, not active self-defense. Not my favorite way to run the show, but compassion would not rule this time.

“I won’t be going with the Fairies and Ethan won’t be dying. However, you will get your wish to no longer be immortal this fine evening, because I’m improvising a new and improved ending. It’s the one where the bad dude bites it,” I ground out.

Spike’s laugh was ugly and so was the sneer on his handsome face. Mary had been correct about my misjudging his character. Never again would I make that mistake.

“That’s where you’re wrong, pretty little Vampyre,” he snapped and went for the absent remote in his pocket. “What the fuck?” he bellowed as he frantically checked all of his pockets in alarm.

“It’s gone,” I told him. “Mary took it and left with it.”

“That stupid bitch is worthless,” he hissed as turned his head and realized Ethan was gone.

Spike rechecked his pockets and then dropped to the floor and searched in case it had fallen out.

“She hates being a Vampyre more than I do. But she doesn’t deserve to be human again. That’s my remote and my way out of this Hell,” he shrieked.

“You told me Ethan wasn’t part of the plot,” I reminded him, as I watched him crawl around on the floor like an animal.

“I lied. They want you and Ethan dead, and since you’re so goddamned hard to kill, I thought the Prince would suffice. I will kill Mary,” he growled as his search became panicked.

“You already did,” I replied, sarcasm lacing my voice.

“Semantics.”

“Why?” I asked.

“Why what?” he snarled.

“Why doesn’t Mary deserve to be a human?”

My question stopped him. He paused his search and closed his eyes in confusion. In a beat he morphed back to himself. “All I wanted was a friend,” he pouted. “She was so pretty and full of life. I wanted her like I’d never wanted anything.”

“So you turned her against her will?” I asked, peeking over at my people. Pain and pure loathing passed over Mary’s face as she stared daggers at the soon to be dead Vampyre.

“I had to,” Spike explained, as he was now rocking back and forth like a child.

Thankfully his eyes were still squeezed shut. However, closing his eyes wouldn’t let him un-see what he had done.

“Why?”

“She had a husband and children. She was supposed to be mine and she fucked it up. I knew she’d have to be punished for betraying me. That was sad, but it’s the way it had to be.”

My stomach roiled as I guessed what was coming.

“You killed her family?” I asked, unable to keep any kind of neutral expression on my face. “You murdered her children?”

“Good Heavens, no,” Spike said opening his eyes and looked right through me with a vacant expression.

The insane Vamp was no longer here. He was trapped in his ugly past.

“She killed them all by herself.”

His giggle made the bile in my stomach rise to my throat.

“I don’t believe that,” I countered harshly, refusing to look at Mary—afraid of what I would see on her face as she had to relive this horror. “She wouldn’t kill her children.”

“Ahhhhh, but a newbie Vampyre with blood lust would,” Spike said with a feral grin. “It was just brilliant. I didn’t have to lift a finger. She did it all. She despised herself every minute of it, but couldn’t stop. The screams from her babies were positively gruesome and the scene was bloodier than any horror movie ever made—much better than Dawn of the Dead. Her husband fought like a champion, but she overpowered him and tore his head right from his shoulders. I wished I’d been able to record it. I could have edited it into an Oscar winner.”

I was speechless and my undead heart was breaking—for Mary—for her children—for her husband—for the long life she’d had to live knowing what she’d done.

“You are a sick fuck,” I hissed. “You’re lucky she hasn’t staked you.”

“She tried, but it’s difficult to kill family,” he explained.

Now I was sure he’d lost it. “Not following,” I said.

“She was married to my brother, but he wasn’t right for her, I was. Sadly, my beautiful Mary has never quite come around to my thinking. Such a shame. I would have given her the gift of being human as well, but she doesn’t deserve it. Did you know she’s tried to kill herself many times over the years, but it’s impossible for the undead to commit suicide?”

My instinct shocked me and I pushed it back violently. I was not God. I was only Compassion, but I wanted to give Mary the choice between living or dying. I wanted to give her the chance to be reunited with her family. It felt all wrong, but somehow right. Could I really kill someone to give them back a life that had been brutally destroyed hundreds of years ago?

I said nothing to Spike as I caught a flash of silver out of the corner of my eye. Mary was approaching Spike from behind with the very same stake that had been poised over Ethan’s heart to kill him. I stepped back. This was no longer my party.

It was hers.

Without a word, she softly tapped Spike on the shoulder. He startled and turned with a gasp of horrified shock. Time seemed to move in slow motion as he tried to overtake her. But years of unimaginable pain made Mary far stronger than her brother-in-law. She was steady and she had a vicious, victorious smile on her face. Spike, realizing the movie was turning into a reality he hadn’t planned for, tried to run.

“You’re Running on Empty,” Mary said, laughing shrilly at her reference to a movie.

“Mary,” Spike begged as he turned and tentatively held his ground. “We can be human again. I will let you come with me,” he lied. “The Dark Fairies promised. You’ll see, I can make you happy. All I ever wanted to do was make you happy.”

“You failed,” Mary replied tonelessly, as she raised the stake in her hand and threw it with such speed, accuracy, and violence that Spike didn’t even see it coming.

Spike crumpled to the floor with a look of disbelief on his face. His death came too fast for his sins, but that wasn’t my call. It was Mary’s.

“I spiked Spike,” she said as hysterical laughter consumed her and then turned to gut wrenching sobs.

We watched as the man who’d destroyed her life in the most vile way possible turned to ash. The Kev stepped forward with an unconscious Ethan in his arms and gently laid him on a couch. Then he moved toward Mary. He took in the end of the tragic scene quietly and ran his hands through his hair in deep thought.

He whispered something in Mary’s ear and she gaped at him in shock. Mary whispered something back then fell to her knees before The Kev and laid her cheek on his feet. The Kev’s head fell forward to his chest and he sighed with great sadness.

I rushed to Ethan’s side and laid his head in my lap as I wondered what was going on.

“Astrid, I need your word that nothing leaves this room. Ever,” The Kev said as he dropped his Michael Bolton disguise and took on his true form.

His beauty was blinding to most, but I’d become slightly immune after the time we’d spent in his world of Xanthia.

“What are you going to do?” I asked, hesitantly.

“That is not a question you can ask me now or ever,” he replied in a voice so weary it made me feel like crying. “I need your word as the Chosen One and Compassion that you will honor my request.”

I swallowed back the myriad of questions I had and nodded my head. I trusted The Kev more than I trusted myself. Anything he asked of me was his for the having. “You have my word.”

He stared hard at me for a beat then lifted his palms Heavenward and chanted a spell so melodic I almost fell into a trance. The room filled with hundreds of golden iridescent bubbles that bounced and jiggled. Shimmering pink Fairy dust burst from the bubbles as they landed on the surfaces of the room and tiny glowing neon purple fireflies emerged from the dust.

In a symphony of purple light and soft buzzing the little bugs gently surrounded Mary, flitting about her and bathing her in their magical glow. Mary gasped and convulsed at The Kev’s feet. My mentor’s eyes were still closed and his palms still extended in the air. He continued to chant as Mary writhed and moaned beneath him.

I pressed my hand to my mouth in both fear and awe. Was he giving Mary her wish by killing her? That was unlike him, but I froze with the realization that I had been planning to give Mary the choice of living or dying. I watched in horrified fascination and held Ethan close to my body.

And then I realized what The Kev had done.

Slowly Mary’s writhing stopped and her skin lost its pale pallor and became a glowing peachy pink. Her chest rose and fell as she gasped for air. She crawled to her knees with effort as she ran her hands over her now human body. Her tears were clear—not bloody—as they ran unchecked down her cheeks. She clasped The Kev at his knees and murmured barely intelligible thanks.

The Kev put his hand on her head and gently stroked her as if she were a small child. On shaky legs, she stood and gave the powerful Fairy one last nod. She then turned to me and smiled. Mary was radiant and more stunning than when she had been a Vampyre.

“Thank you. I thought meeting you would lead to nothing but more pain, but I was wrong. This is the greatest gift I could have ever been granted. Lead well, Astrid… and make sure you change the ways of our people. They are wrong.”

I nodded because speech was impossible.

“Someday, I will see you again, I hope,” she said as she turned her back on me and walked over to the pile of ash that was formerly Spike. She spit on his ashes and then bent down and picked up the stake.

Every part of me wanted to turn away because I knew exactly what she was going to do, but out of respect for her, I watched. I watched her raise the stake high as she blew a kiss toward the Heavens.

“I’m coming,” she whispered.

And then she plunged the same stake into her body that had killed the man who had destroyed her. It went right through her heart and out of her back. It was as starkly beautiful as it was gruesome. I buried my face in Ethan’s neck as I let my bloody Vampyre tears fall.

I cried for Mary. I cried for her husband and her children. I cried for the life that had been stolen from her and I cried for The Kev who looked like a broken man.

“Are you okay?” I asked quietly as I nicked the vein in my wrist and let the blood fall into Ethan’s mouth. His bleeding had stemmed and he swallowed my blood ravenously.

“No,” The Kev answered flatly. “I have just broken a vow I swore to uphold thousands of years ago.”

“Why did you do it? Why not just kill her as she was?”

“Because she was sinless in her human form. I wanted her to have the ability to reunite with her family. Because of the transgressions she’d committed as a Vampyre that would have been impossible.”

“Have you ever done this before?”

“No,” he said. “If she’d chosen to live as a human, the price she would have had to pay would have been very high indeed.”

“What’s the price you’ll have to pay?”

“That remains to be seen, my little Krumecaca.”

“Can I ask you one more thing?”

“I do believe you will even if I say no,” he said with a small smile on his beautiful face.

“What did you and Mary say to each other?”

He paused and inhaled deeply. “I asked her what she would do if I gave her back her human life,” he said softly. “And she told me she would take that life and rejoin her family.”

We shared the space in silence, both lost in our own thoughts. I wiped at a stray tear or two and then brushed my lips across Ethan’s bruised cheek.

“We need to get Ethan out of here,” I said, as I gently brushed the hair out of my mate’s face and thought about the unimaginable things Mary had been forced to do to her husband and children. I’d have wanted to kill myself as well.

“And so we shall,” The Kev said.

“I wanted to kill her to give her peace,” I told him.

“I know,” he replied as he picked up Mary’s dead body from the ground and lifted it in the air. The fireflies made a glowing bed around Mary and disappeared with her lifeless body with a crackle of electricity and an explosion of glittering pink dust.

“You knew?” I asked, shocked as I watched the spray of Fairy dust float gently to the floor.

The Kev ignored me and dispersed the pile of ash that was Spike until there was no evidence of his death.

“You did that for me?” I demanded, angry and humbled at the same time.

The Kev looked up at me and smiled. “I did it for Mary because she deserved it and I did it for you because you didn’t. It would have been a heavy burden to bear for someone as new to this world as you.”

“I could have handled it because it would have been the right thing to do,” I said. “I’m very strong.”

“Yes, you are, but this one was a bit murky. What happened here tonight never happened. Mary died defending Ethan from Spike. We are in her debt. Understood?”

“Completely,” I agreed. “Thank you. From me—and from Mary.”

Brushing aside my comment, he took Ethan in his arms again and headed for the door. “Let’s find Venus and Gareth. I’m a little worried about his immortality at the moment.”

“You think he’ll die because he transported all of us?” I asked as I quickly followed him out of the room.

“No, he’ll survive that. I’m more concerned he’ll say something wildly inappropriate to Venus and she’ll put him out of his lecherous misery.”

“Shit.” A small laugh escaped my lips. I was surprised I could laugh at all after what had happened, but I realized I was happy. Ethan was alive. I loved The Kev more than I ever had, and I was happy for Mary. My life without Ethan and Samuel would mean nothing.

It was time to go home.

Chapter 18

“We really should deal with a few details,” Gemma said quietly. She sat with me while I kept vigil next to my bed.

Ethan had been unconscious since we’d brought him home twenty-four hours ago and I was getting panicky. He should have been awake by now. All of the external injuries had healed, but he wouldn’t wake up. He’d let Spike do a number on him because he’d thought the bastard was me. If Spike wasn’t already dead, I would have torn him to shreds with my bare hands.

The only two things I’d done since being home was sit with Ethan or hold Samuel. Everything else could wait.

“Ethan will wake up. His wounds have healed. His body just needs a little more time to recuperate,” Gemma said as she took my hand in hers. “The wedding is on Saturday and if you don’t get involved, Charles’ three heads are going to explode. He’s barely hanging on as it is.”

“Do you know that for a fact?” I questioned her more harshly than I intended.

“About Charles’ heads?”

“About Ethan.”

She was quiet for a moment as she stared at the motionless man on the bed. “No. I don’t know it for a fact. It’s a feeling and I’m getting better about trusting them.”

“I want you to be right, but I’m not the only one here in a panic. The Vampyres are running around the compound freaking out—not a very promising sign. I know you mean well, but I don’t care about the wedding anymore. I’m not human. I’m a mated Vampyre. The sooner I get used to that, the better. Just please cancel it for me.”

“Are you sure?”

I wanted to scream no, but I didn’t. I would not end up like Spike or Mary. I didn’t want to hate my immortality. Hanging on to my human past would get me nowhere. I’d seen what pining away for a life that was over did to people. Never would I become like that.

“I’m sure,” I said, turning my head away from my dearest friend so she wouldn’t see my tears.

Gemma rose from the chair and laid her cheek on my head. “If you change you mind, just let me know, okay?”

“I won’t change my mind,” I said flatly. “My place is here with Ethan, in his world. I’m doing the right thing, Gemma.”

“If you say so,” she said, walking quietly toward the door. “Call me if you need me.”

“I will,” I replied without turning my head to acknowledge her exit.

If I made eye contact with her, I would fall apart. Terror clawed at my insides. If Ethan didn’t come back to me, I’d have very little to live for. Oh. My. God. How selfish could I be? I had Samuel and I would live for him. Ethan would want it that way and I would want the same thing if the situation were reversed. Ethan would have my ass in a sling if I gave up, but it would be a hollow existence.

“Why won’t you wake up?” I whispered as I pressed my lips to his. “I need you.”

“Mommy?” Samuel’s tiny voice called out from the doorway of our suite. “Can me come in?”

“Of course you can, baby,” I said, as I plastered a smile on my face that I was certain my astute little boy would be able to see through.

Samuel scrambled across the large room and threw himself at me. He smelled so good. I buried my face in his soft curls and willed myself not to cry. Pam followed him in and sat down on the bed next to Ethan. She brushed my mate’s hair back and kissed his forehead.

“I’ve had enough of this shit, young man,” she growled at Ethan. “I’m gonna kick your sorry ass when you wake up for making us all so damned scared. I raised you better than this.”

“He no hear you,” Samuel told Pam as he patted her back.

“Sure he can,” she told Samuel with a smile as plastic as my own. “Your daddy will be just fine. You’ll see.”

Samuel crawled off my lap and settled himself next to his father on the bed. Pam cocked her head, indicating for me to get up and follow her.

“I’m not leaving the room,” I warned. I stood and took a few tentative steps away from the bed.

“I’m not asking you to, Assbarrel. I just want to have a few private words with you.”

My stomach knotted in pain as I joined her in the sitting area on the far side of our suite. Positioning my body so I could still clearly see my boys, I sat down and steeled myself to hear horrific news. I was sure she knew something I didn’t want to know. Earlier I’d physically removed three healers from of the room when they couldn’t help Ethan—and I wasn’t gentle.

Had they gone to Pam with news because I’d frightened the living Hell out of them?

I wouldn’t blame them. Pam was scary, but right now I was terrifying.

“Say what you need to say quickly. I have to stay close to Ethan,” I said tersely.

Pam eyed me and shook her head. “He’s right across the room. If you get wound up any tighter, you’re gonna pop like a fuckin’ tick, little missy.”

“Just get to it,” I snapped. “What do you know that they’re not telling me?”

“What in the Hell are you blabbering about?” she asked, confused.

“I assume you know something about Ethan that the damned healers are too scared to tell me, so out with it.”

“Never assume. It makes an ass out of you and me… especially you,” she chastised with arched brows and pursed lips.

“Fine,” I muttered, too tired and agitated to worry about my bad manners. “What did you want to discuss?”

“What’s this I hear about you cancelling the wedding?” she inquired.

Letting my head fall back on my shoulders, I stared at the ceiling and counted to twenty-seven. Sobbing or yelling would help nothing. “News sure travels fast around here.”

“Yeah, well a lot of people around here seem to care about you—don’t ask me why. You’re a pain in the butt. Is it true?”

“Pam, Ethan is in some kind of fucked up Vampyre coma. I think a wedding is the last thing I should be concerned about. I can’t get married when the groom’s not exactly conscious,” I snapped.

“You and Ethan rule these folks and they’re very much on edge right now. You have duties, child. And one is to comfort your people no matter how you feel. Ethan is the damned Prince and you are The Chosen One. This shit looks bad,” she said.

“I don’t care.”

“Really?” she inquired with an eye roll.

“Really.”

“So you just gonna let everything go to Hell in a hand basket while your man is napping? Just let chaos ensue, and word get out that neither of you can lead your people? You’re gonna have every immortal jackhole trying to attack from every corner of this world and the next,” she informed me. “When Ethan wakes up, he’s gonna be knee deep in crap.”

“And planning the wedding would stop that?” I demanded, slapping my now sparking hands on the table and lighting it on fire. “Shit.”

Waving my hand, I doused the flame, sunk lower on the couch and wallowed in self-pity for a short but satisfying forty-three seconds. Pam was right. Pretending I didn’t inhabit a violent world where usurping power was the fucking norm, was juvenile, stupid and deadly.

“Going on with the wedding would prove what?” I asked her.

“It would prove that you have every confidence that Ethan is coming back to us. It would shut the peanut gallery up and buy more time for Ethan. Don’t forget, you may have killed that bastard Spike, but the Dark Fairies are still out there.”

“They can’t find any more portals without Spike,” I reminded her, hating to speak the horrible Vampyre’s name aloud.

“True, but they sure can cause a sphincterload of other problems,” she shot back.

I stood and paced while watching Samuel play with Ethan’s hair. Ethan had to wake up and when he did everything would be under control. Pam was correct and her verbal kick in the ass was exactly what I needed.

“You’re right,” I said slowly, ignoring her use of the word sphincter. I’d broach that at another less stressful time. “But I can’t leave him. How do I do this?”

“Leave that shit to me and that three headed freak, Charles. I’ll have the King issue a statement that the wedding will go on as planned and…”

“And?” I asked.

“And we wait, baby. We wait for Ethan.”

“What if he doesn’t wake up?” I whispered, voicing the fear that was eating at my sanity.

“That’s unacceptable. That damn boy has everything to live for. You just get on over there and offer him a whopper of a blowjob. He’ll jump right out of that bed,” she suggested with a wink.

“That won’t work,” I said, staring at my fingers with great interest.

“Well, I’ll be damned.” Pam cackled and slapped her thigh. “You already tried that one.”

“Yes,” I hissed and laughed despite the gravity of the situation. “I did and he didn’t bat an eyelash.”

“Maybe you need to work on your skills.”

“Maybe you need to shut your cakehole before I do it for you.”

“Promises, promises,” Pam said with a laugh. “You want me to take Samuel back to the nursery?”

“No.”

I glanced over at my baby. He was whispering in Ethan’s ear and stroking his cheek. It was all kinds of sweet and all kinds of tragic.

“He needs us and frankly, I need him too,” I told her. “Even though you suck, I love you.”

“I know,” she replied with a grin.

“Aren’t you supposed to say it back?” I demanded, squinting at my Guardian Angel.

“I show you every day how much I love your sorry ass, but if you wanna hear it, then yes… I love you too, Asscamper.”

With a grunt of laughter, Pam let herself out of the room. She was a walking, talking, foul mouthed nightmare and I’d go to the ends of the earth for her.

“Mommy, come cuddle wif us,” Samuel said as he patted the space on the other side of him. “Daddy just needs some love.”

I said nothing because I was terrified I was going to cry again. Nodding, I got into the bed and curled my body around Ethan’s. My arm was draped across Ethan’s chest and my head rested near his. The picture was perfect. I just prayed the reality would catch up.

With a yawn of sheer exhaustion, I closed my eyes. I’d just rest them for a few minutes. Going without sleep was not making me a very popular person. My bitchiness was showing. Whatever. I’d apologize to everyone later.

***

“What the fu…?” I shrieked as I tumbled out of the bed and hit the floor with a hard thud.

The buzzing woke me, but that wasn’t what made me scream. No. The sight of my son engulfed in flames and my mate floating above the bed was the scenario that made me cry out in terror.

“Ohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygod. Samuel, hold on. Mommy will fix this,” I shouted, as the buzzing increased to a volume that made it difficult to hear my own voice.

Lifting my hands above my head, I flung them at the horrifying scene in front of me, but nothing happened.

Again. I tried again.

Nothing.

Samuel was barely recognizable inside the firewall. The flames licked at Ethan, but he didn’t notice. His eyes were still closed and he had no awareness that our son was burning to death below him.

“Shitshitshitshit,” I cried out. I pulled deeper on my magic and attempted to douse the flames yet again.

Nothing.

If anything the flames grew.

“This has to be dark magic,” I hissed to no one, since I was virtually alone with my soon to be incinerated family. “I have dark magic. Where in the fuck did it go?”

Closing my eyes I tried to center myself, but my panic won. I wasn’t proud and I didn’t have a hero complex. I couldn’t handle this. I needed someone who could reverse dark magic. Now.

“Satan, come to me,” I screamed.

I sprinted around the firewall to find on opening. If I could get inside I could pull Samuel to safety. Ethan wasn’t engulfed yet. There was no opening. I tried running through it only to be thrown across the room with more power than I’d ever experienced. What was doing this?

“You rang?” Satan said, appearing in a cloud of glittering black smoke.

“Help me,” I gasped as I ran at the firewall in another attempt to get in. “Samuel is inside and he’s on fire. Reverse the magic,” I screamed.

“I can’t,” Satan said, watching the flames with great interest. “And neither can you.”

“Bullshit,” I grunted, as I slammed up against the wall only to be blasted across the room once more.

Satan’s delighted laugh made me want to kill him dead where he stood, but I didn’t have the time and I couldn’t spare the energy. An acrid green smoke now billowed out of the center of the fire and obscured my view of Ethan. My world was ending in front of my eyes and I couldn’t do anything to stop it.

“I hate you,” I snarled at the Devil and slammed at him with my fists. “You could help me and you won’t.”

“Astrid,” he hissed as his eyes turned red with displeasure at my disrespect. “If you had a brain in your head, you wouldn’t ask me to stop this.”

“What the Hell are you talking about? They’re dying.”

“Quite the opposite,” he replied, circling the firewall—examining it with awestruck appreciation. “I had no idea he’d be capable of something so powerful at his age.”

“Explain,” I insisted wildly as I continued to look for a way in.

“Samuel is doing this,” Satan said.

His words stopped me in my tracks.

“He would never do anything like this,” I snapped.

Satan made himself comfortable on the couch and watched the fire with the excitement of a child on his birthday. “Do you even know what he’s doing?”

“Obviously not,” I said rudely. “It looks to me as if my child is being burned alive and my mate is next on the list.”

“It does look like that,” Satan agreed with a nod an evil little grin. “But that’s not what’s happening.”

“Would you care to enlighten me?” I asked, calming a bit.

Satan was wildly taken with Samuel even though he’d deny it until his homeland froze over. The Devil would move Heaven and Hell to keep my child safe. However, watching your family burn was awful, no matter what was actually going on.

“Samuel is saving his father,” Satan explained. “Do you see the green smoke?”

“I do.”

“The smoke is the remnant of a poison to immortals. Samuel is removing it from his father’s system. I can’t imagine the Vampyre Spike was able to do that. If he did, I’m impressed and shall amp his punishment up higher than it is now. The cretin was quite surprised when he woke up in Hell the other day. He’s been a very unwilling guest.”

“Could the Dark Fairies have done this?” I asked as I finally relaxed, ignoring the quips about Spike. The bastard was exactly where he was supposed to be.

“Hmm…” My Uncle shrugged and walked closer to the billowing smoke. “It’s possible. If they did, they’re breaking vows that will send them straight to the basement of Hell,” he said as he rubbed his hands together with glee.

“How so?” I asked as a pit began to develop in my stomach.

“They’re playing God,” he replied smoothly. “This kind of magic reverses immortality. A big fucking no-no.”

“Do you think they were trying to make Ethan human?” I asked, secretly wondering if it was a residual effect from what The Kev had done. Ethan had been present and bleeding. Had he been too weak to protect himself from such an intense level of magic?

“Doubtful, but I wouldn’t put it past them. Screwing with immortality would certainly be an interesting way to upset the balance of power. No one would accept a human Vampyre Prince.”

“What would have happened if they’d succeeded?” I asked.

The fire started to die down and Ethan’s body floated back to the bed.

“Don’t really know,” Satan said. “Not one Fairy I’m aware of is powerful enough to actually accomplish it. I’d guess that the idiots that did this to Ethan have some fabulously evil little plan.”

“They failed.”

“Thanks to your son,” Satan pointed out. “Even if the Dark Fairies did magically put the poison in him, Ethan wouldn’t have become human. He would have simply died.”

Little did Satan know how wrong he was.

I was quiet for a long beat as the fire burnt itself out and my baby appeared sleeping peacefully beside my mate on a perfectly pristine bed—no sign of the apocalyptic fire that had just raged in my suite. My stomach still churned at the thought of what The Kev had done for both Mary and me. Never—even under the threat of real death would I reveal what I’d seen—not even to Ethan.

“Are they okay?” I asked Satan, afraid to move toward my family in case they turned to ash in front of my eyes.

But Satan was gone. Only black glitter was left where he had stood only moments ago. He’d done his job. Joyful reunions weren’t really his thing and tears of happiness gave him hives. I owed him for this, but I knew he’d never collect on this particular episode. He was a bad, bad man, but he was also good. As much as he’d despise hearing me say it—it was true.

“Astrid,” Ethan said weakly from the bed. “I just had the strangest dream.”

“Tell me about it, baby,” I said softly as I got into the bed with the two most important people in my life. I pressed my lips to his and closed my eyes to hold back the waterfall of tears that were trying to escape.

“It felt so real,” he whispered hoarsely.

“The truth is always stranger than fiction,” I said, touching both him and Samuel to prove to myself they were alive.

“Do you want to hear it?” he asked as he wrapped his strong arm around me.

“Does it have a happy ending?” I inquired, resting my head on his chest.

“As long as you’re with me, it does.”

“Then tell me your dream, my love, because I will always be with you. Always.”

Chapter 19

“I’ve missed you,” I said, sitting on my hands so I wouldn’t squeeze the ever-lovin’ life out of my grandfather.

“And I’ve missed you too,” he said, as he pulled my hands free and wrapped them around his small frame.

I tried really hard not to smoosh him, but it was tough. Grandpa was a True Immortal, so I knew I couldn’t kill him. However, he’d been injured repeatedly over the years because of his irresistible cute factor. My Grandpa Bill was a tiny thing—the size of an Oompa Loompa—and as adorable as they came. He was Satan’s father and was mated to Mother Nature. Mother Nature and Grandpa adored each other, but spent much of the time apart because they fought like cats and dogs.

“Are you and Gigi good at the moment?” I asked with a little grin as I disengaged myself with difficulty and folded Samuel’s pajamas.

The last time they’d been off, an ice storm occurred in Hell. Hell had literally frozen over. Satan was none too pleased, but Mother Nature was a loose Howitzer when pissed. From what I’d heard she’d asked Grandpa if he thought she looked fat… Gigi was anything but fat, but apparently Grandpa had told her to change her dress if she felt fat. Hence, the ice storm in Hell. They took a little break after that one.

“We are wonderful,” he assured me with a chuckle. “The weather will be lovely in Hell for the wedding.”

“About that,” I said, as I pushed down my inner turmoil about the whole human ceremony thing. The morning had dawned bright. Ethan was alive and my world was exactly the way it should be. It was a new day. “I was wondering…would you give me away?”

Grandpa clasped his small hands together and let out a squeal of joy. “I would be honored, my child. Are you sure you want an old Demon giving you away?”

He pulled out a crisp white hanky and dabbed at his eyes while the smile on his face grew wider. My heart felt light and the need to pick him up and throw him in the air like a doll almost overwhelmed me.

“I’m quite sure,” I told him. “There’s no one else I’d rather have.”

“Deal.” He tucked his hanky back in the pocket of his double-breasted coat and seated himself next to me on the leather couch. “Anything I should know? I’ve never done this before.”

“Um… I don’t think so,” I said with a giggle. “I’ve never done it either.”

“This is true. We’ll wing it. Do I get the father-daughter dance at the reception?”

“Absolutely as long as everyone isn’t dead from eating Gigi’s cake.”

Now we were both giggling.

“Can you keep a secret?” he asked with a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

“I can,” I answered warily.

Grandpa hopped up and ran over to the main door of my suite and made sure it was securely locked. He peeked under the antique chairs and tables and searched for any kind of listening device. When still unsatisfied, he waved his arms in a circular motion and enclosed us in a big orange bubble.

“Is all this necessary?” I asked, getting uncomfortable. If he was going to tell me the secrets of the Universe, I was pretty sure I didn’t want to know. “Are you going to share something you shouldn’t tell me?”

“Of course,” he said, testing the bubble’s elasticity with his finger. “If it was something I should tell you, I wouldn’t have to take all these precautions.”

“Shit,” I muttered as I considered telling him to put a sock in it, but as usual, my rabid curiosity got the best of me. “Hurry up. I don’t want to get busted.”

“Holy Hell,” Grandpa said, glancing around one more time. “Neither do I. Okay, here it is… Mother Nature has hired someone to cook for her. She is no longer inadvertently poisoning the masses with her deplorable culinary skills.”

His eyes were huge and kept darting about to make sure we hadn’t been spotted or heard.

“Is that it?” I asked. “That’s why we’re in a big ass orange bubble? Because Mother Nature is passing someone else’s baking as her own?”

“Shhhhhhhhhhh,” he said, pressing his finger to my lips. “This information could mean a massive earthquake if it gets out—and I mean massive.”

“I thought you were going to tell me the secret of life or something like that.”

“Oh,” he said and then wrinkled his brow in thought. “I’d be happy to if you’d like to know.”

“No. I have enough secrets to keep. I don’t have room for anymore,” I replied, snapping my fingers and releasing us from the oversized bubble.

It fell around us like little shards of sugar spun glass and turned to piles of orange dust on the floor. It reminded me of the powder from pixie sticks and I wondered if it tasted as sweet as it looked. Shaking my head, I pulled myself back to the matter at hand.

“Astrid, the secret of life is not a secret at all,” he said as he wiggled his nose and made the sparkly orange residue disappear. “Although many people seem to have forgotten it.”

“What is it? Love?” I asked sarcastically.

Grandpa paused and stared at me thoughtfully. “What’s wrong, my dear? You’re not yourself.”

I was at a total loss for words. I thought I was hiding all of my angsty bullshit, but clearly, I was mistaken.

“I was led to believe that Ethan was fine now,” Grandpa prompted.

“He is,” I told him.

“And Samuel?”

“He’s great.”

“Astrid,” he said, taking my hand and leading me back to my closet. “Let’s go in here. Shoes always make you feel better. I can make a bubble again if we need more privacy.”

I grinned as he hustled me into my enormous closet full of more clothes, shoes, bags and accessories than a girl should legally have. He seated me on a stack of hard-sided Gucci suitcases and crossed his little arms over his chest.

“Out with it.”

“Well, um…”

We sat in silence admiring my impressive shoe rack for a few minutes while I decided how much of the truth I was going to burden my beloved Grandpa with. He said nothing—simply waited. And waited. And waited…

“I’m not human. I’m a Vampyre-Demon. I need to let go of my old life and join my new one. I refuse to be a cranky old immortal who hates the fact I can’t die. The longer I prolong accepting who I am, the worse it will be for me in the long run. I wouldn’t go back for anything, but I’m worried—only a little—well, maybe a lot—about not handling living forever very gracefully. Getting married is stupid and human and I’m above petty bullshit like that.” I blurted out my dirty secret so fast I almost missed it.

“Interesting,” Grandpa said. He took my hand and examined the gorgeous pink diamond ring on my finger. “I followed most of that.”

“What did you think of it—the part you understood?” I asked hesitantly, as I too admired my ring.

It had been a gift from Ethan when we mated. It had belonged to Pam hundreds of years ago. Ethan had held onto it until he found me—the girl he’d been waiting for all his life. He’d offered to get me an engagement ring to go with my mating ring, but I didn’t want one. My sparkling rare pink diamond was perfect. I didn’t need anything else except him.

“I think that you think too much.”

“Tell me something I don’t know,” I mumbled, and then punctuated my statement with an eye roll.

“Okay, I will,” he shot back agreeably. “Living forever is hard. I won’t lie, but everything is what you make of it. Even a human life can feel like an eternity if not well lived.”

“That sounds way too simple,” I told him, pulling on my my hair in frustration.

“Most truths are,” he replied.

“So I just get married and hang on to my human side?” I demanded, desperately wanting someone to tell me what to do. Deciding things on my own sucked.

“That my dear, is entirely up to you, but let me point out a few facts. Everything that happens in a life makes you whoever you are in the present. No experience—even bad—is wasted. If you deny your past, you deny your future. Your human side is what makes you the perfect choice for the job of Compassion. It’s very easy to let go of humanity when the days are as long as ours.”

“I’ll never lose my humanity,” I insisted.

“Then why would you want to forget you were human?”

I was speechless. Was it really that simple?

“Because, um…”

“I’m not waiting for an answer,” Grandpa assured me with a quick kiss to my cheek. “Just wanted to leave you with a few things to think about.”

“Well, you certainly freakin’ did,” I said.

“Good! Then my job here is done. Why don’t we go tickle Samuel? I haven’t seen the boy in a few weeks. Being with people I love fills my soul—makes eternity far more bearable,” he said pointedly with a smile on his face.

I nodded slowly as a grin pulled at my lips. “I think that’s an outstanding idea,” I agreed, feeling lighter and happier than I had been in days.

My Grandpa’s True Immortal title was Wisdom.

He sure as Hell lived up to it.

Chapter 20

“This is a very bad idea,” I said as I stared in mortified dismay at the long pink Hummer.

The obnoxious limousine idled quietly in the circular driveway in front of the Cressida House. The sun had dipped below the horizon and a full golden moon bathed the manicured lawns like magic. However, not even the lovely evening could hide an enormous pink eyesore.

“We have to drive,” Venus insisted. “We can’t just have a bunch of hot chicks wearing Prada poof into a bar.”

“That sounds like the beginning of a very bad joke,” I said with a groan.

“Yep, one where we have to magically wipe the minds of all the humans in attendance,” Dixie added with a giggle. “We do have to drive. Venus is right.”

“Fine,” I griped. “But you are not getting my ass into a Hummer.”

I narrowed my eyes at the embarrassing show of wealth and growled. If I wasn’t mistaken, I was sure the ugly hunk of metal growled back. Awesome. Not only was it gross, it had an attitude.

“We are getting your ass in the Hummer,” Paris informed me as she tossed Raquel a wad of cash. “The Baby Demons will be devastated if we don’t. They worked very hard on the Bachelorette party.”

I glanced back over my shoulder and saw seven little faces plastered against the window of the grand entryway door. Abe, Beyoncé, Ross, Rachel and all three of Charles’ heads were pressed against the glass. They were grinning like idiots and quivering with excitement.

I stared up at the stars as they began to dot the navy sky and pretended to sigh—as much as a non-breather could. Well, at least the girls had brought real money this time. We wouldn’t have to erase memories of the patrons for stealing, not that we’d need much money considering Gemma and Dixie were the only ones who could actually drink or eat.

“Abe will cry,” Raquel added very seriously. “And Charles… I don’t know what in the Hell that little weirdo will do. We have to ride in the pink monstrosity”

As Charles was prone to throwing fits where people ended up as shit piles with faces, I agreed. If this was what they had planned for the Bachelorette party, what was the wedding going to be like tomorrow? A large part of me wanted to run, but the hopeful faces of my friends and the kisses being blown at us from the peanut gallery in the window made me give in—albeit not very gracefully.

“Get in Miss Grumpy Pants,” Gemma instructed. “It’s your party and you’re going to enjoy it.”

“Motherfucker,” I grumbled as I stomped over to the vehicle and climbed in. “This is all kinds of embarrassing and stupid. And where in the Hell is Pam? She’s the only one of us that would enjoy riding in this thing.”

“Said she’s too old for this shit—direct quote,” Paris said with a grin, climbing in behind me. “She and The King are bowing out of tonight to babysit Samuel. She told us if we got arrested, she was planning on letting our asses rot in jail until the wedding tomorrow.”

“Another direct quote?” I asked.

“Of course,” Paris confirmed.

I glanced around the interior and almost gagged. It looked like a hooker’s nightmare or a princess party on crack—either worked. There were tufts of shimmering pink tulle tied to everything that that wasn’t nailed down. Pink champagne was icing in buckets—not that I could drink any unless Gemma was willing to down a bottle or two. But the kicker was the hot pink sex toys littering the entire limo.

“What in the Hell do they think we’re going to do tonight?” Raquel asked, dangling a vibrator fit for an elephant in the air.

“Are you sure they read a manual on Bachelorette parties? Because it looks like a miniature brothel in here,” I said with a snort. I gamely held up a pair of hot pink fuzzy handcuffs and some edible panties.

“Holy Hell,” Dixie laughed. “I don’t even know what some of this stuff is.”

“And you don’t want to know,” Venus said, flicking a set of Ben Wa balls off the seat so she could sit down without being impaled by a toy.

“So where are we going?” Gemma asked as she clicked on her seatbelt to peals of laughter from everyone in the Hummer. “Right,” she said with a blush. “Immortals don’t need seatbelts. Old habits.”

“You guys don’t know where we’re going?” I asked, starting to worry. If the pink Hummer was any indication of what lay ahead, we should all be terrified.

“I know where we’re going!” Fat Demon Doug yelled from the driver’s seat.

“Oh Hell no,” I muttered and I went for the door handle. I could deal with crying Demons, but Doug? Not so much.

Venus and Gemma grabbed me as I dove to make my escape and before I knew it, the Hummer was speeding out of the compound with an obese, jazz hand prone Demon at the wheel.

Just fucking awesome.

“I sure as Hell hope the guys have to ride in a Hummer driven by an unbalanced Demon,” I said as I sat back and squished a monster wad of tulle with my head.

“Ohhhhh yes!” Doug informed us. “The men’s Hummer is rainbow!”

“Is a dancing Demon driving them?” Paris inquired as she was the only one who could speak at this point.

The rest of us were laughing too hard.

“Oh no,” Doug corrected her with great reverence. “They have a dancing Goddess!”

“I’m sorry, what?” I choked out. My eyes grew wide with fear, shock and complete disbelief. Tonight would go down in the immortal history books.

“Mother Nature is chauffeuring the gentlemen this fine evening,” Doug said with a squeal of delight.

And it was all over. We laughed until we cried all the way to wherever the Hell we were headed.

***

“Is this a joke?” I stared at the neon sign of the venue where we were supposed to celebrate my final night of being a kind-of single gal.

Even my bridesmaids were struck mute. No one could believe it. We all sat in the Hummer staring opened mouthed at the marquee.

“Um, Doug, are you certain this is the correct place?” Dixie asked doing her best not to laugh.

She failed.

Doug checked the address written on the paper he had and nodded. “Is this 6669 Boolery Ave?” he asked, squinting at the tiny writing on the paper.

“Yes,” Gemma replied with a horrified expression marring her lovely face.

“Is it called Big Sean’s Booby Bungalow?” Doug inquired.

“Yes,” Paris choked out.

“Then we’re at the right place!” Doug announced grandly. “The party awaits you m’ladies.”

“Not happening,” I said, trying not to laugh at the utter ridiculousness of the situation. It was my own fault for letting the Baby Demons plan it. “You know what? I told those little bastards no male strippers. I can’t believe this.”

“They certainly took you at your word,” Venus said, chewing on her lip.

“Not following,” I said.

“There are no male strippers at Big Sean’s Booby Bungalow—only female,” she choked out as she bent forward in hysterics.

I sat back and tried desperately to wipe the silly grin off of my face. Why was I being such a butthole? It really was funny and something we’d talk about for years—or possibly centuries—to come. Was I still torn about what I was doing?

“Astrid,” Raquel said watching me closely. “I know this is rather bizarre, but we are here and you are getting married tomorrow. I say we go for it. None of us have ever been to a bachelorette party before. Big Sean’s Booby Bungalow won’t know what hit them.”

The chorus of begging from my friends and even Doug made me feel ridiculously happy. They were right. We had one life—albeit a long one—and we should live every day to its fullest. I was a Vampyre-Demon with a recent human past I was going to embrace. This was not stupid—well, maybe going to Big Sean’s Booby Bungalow was stupid—but it was planned with love by my questionably sane and classless Baby Demons. We were here and we were going to party.

“I’m in,” I said, as I fluffed my hair and swiped on some more lipstick. “Ground rules—stick together, and if a stripper tries to give one of us a lap dance, someone has to come to the rescue.”

“Sounds good,” Venus said as she adjusted her shirt to reveal a little more cleavage.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“I have nice girls. Can’t be outdone by a bunch of strippers,” she replied as she reached into her bra and gave them an extra lift.

“Probably not a good idea to snack on the patrons,” Paris suggested as she, too fixed herself up and made a few risqué adjustments to her outfit.

“Um… that should be a given,” Raquel choked out with a grunt of laughter. “Not quite sure what the quality of blood would be here anyway.”

“Word,” Venus agreed.

“Will we be the only immortals here?” Dixie asked, clearly excited to be doing something so naughty.

My cousin would be delighted to let her father know she’d gone to a strip club. I was pretty sure he was still under the impression she had stolen all my bridal shower gifts. Dixie was earning a bunch of extra credit from Satan by hanging out with me.

“Oh Hell no!” Doug informed us, finishing up his own primping. “The Bachelor party is here too.”

“Isn’t that wrong?” Gemma asked, confused. “I’m pretty sure that’s a no-no.”

“Um… the entirety of the evening is a no-no,” I said with a shrug and a grin. “It was planned by the Baby Demons. We should expect just about everything to go wrong. Ready?”

After a loud chorus of yesses and a bit more primping, we were good to go. Piling out of the car, we walked across the uneven, cracked pavement toward the slightly dilapidated front door. The excitement was palpable and I was happy. Human traditions might be silly, but they made life worth looking forward to.

We were a motley group, dressed to the nines and on a mission. Prada, True Religion and Gucci had never been worn so well. I was fairly sure we would stick out like sore thumbs especially with Demon Doug dressed as the Indian from the Village People, but I didn’t care. The evening was breezy and the brilliant stars winked at us from above. I was just a young woman out for her final night of single ladydom with her best friends in tow.

What could go wrong?

I was going to enjoy my damned party no matter what happened once we were inside.

Chapter 21

“This place is a dump. I love it,” Doug squealed, clapping his hands together with glee. “Let’s dance!”

The Demon was correct. It was dirty, smelly and all kinds of tacky. My girls glanced around with shock and wrinkled noses, but said nothing. We definitely were over-dressed as most of the women in the joint were clad only in sequined pasties and G-strings.

“This might be a terrible idea,” Gemma whispered, as all the men in the club leered at us with great interest. “I’m pretty sure they think we’re strippers.”

“I’m not stripping,” Paris said.

“No one is stripping,” I told her as I cased the joint for our guys.

Bingo.

They were in a far corner all looking as uncomfortable as we did except for Gareth who was faring quite well. He was receiving a lap dance from a gal with breasts so enormous I was sure she hadn’t see her toes in years.

“What a freakin’ jack-off,” Venus snapped in disgust. She squared her shoulders, swore a few more times and began marching over to the pornographic display.

“I think she likes him,” Raquel whispered with a giggle as we hustled across the open area following Venus.

“Possibly,” I agreed. “But she’ll still kill him for being a perv.”

“That would ruin the party,” Paris said, picking up her pace. “We’d have to erase at least fifty human’s memories and try to explain why the Royal Family and friends were slumming it at a strip bar.”

“Shit,” I muttered. I began to walk-run across the room.

A mirror ball and neon flashing lights gave the club a colorful glow, but it couldn’t erase the reality of what it was. The Kev, Heathcliff, Hayden and Ethan waved with laughable relief as we hightailed it over. Maybe we could leave and go to IHOP or something like that. The smell of pancakes—even if I couldn’t eat them—would beat this place hands down.

“I didn’t arrange this,” Ethan said with a helpless, lopsided grin and his hands in the air. “I had no clue we were coming to a strip club.”

He looked edible in his jeans, boots and icy blue Henley. My fingers itched to bury themselves in his thick blond hair. Tomorrow night couldn’t come fast enough. Even in the disgusting bar with strippers and lowlifes milling about, I wanted to jump his bones. I had it soooo bad—or good—depending on how I looked at it.

“Neither did I,” I told him, as I wrapped my arms around him and squeezed tight. “How was your Hummer ride?”

“Death defying,” he replied with a shudder. “Your grandmother should have her damned license revoked. Her driving is worse than her cooking.”

“Pretty sure she doesn’t have one, babe,” I told him, glancing around hoping Mother Nature wasn’t within earshot. We didn’t need a destructive natural disaster at Big Sean’s Booby Bungalow tonight. Venus was enough. “Is she here?”

“No,” Ethan said, closing his eyes. “She went back to Nirvana to put the last touches on the catering for tomorrow.”

“Fuck,” I mumbled and then was drawn back into the situation in front of me.

My Vampyre bridesmaid yanked the surprised, busty stripper right off of Gareth’s lap and got in his face. “The things you said to me the other night were utter bullshit,” Venus hissed to a tremendously uncomfortable Gareth. “You’re a liar and a pig.”

“I didn’t think you’d be here,” he said with a careless shrug, but his eyes belied his uncaring tone.

“And that makes it okay?” she demanded, as her fangs dropped and her eyes blazed green.

“Shit, I think we’re gonna have to erase some memories,” Paris said, wringing her hands as the showdown escalated.

She was correct. The patrons were pointing at Venus and growing concerned. I didn’t know what Gareth had said to Venus, but I had a good idea. My brother-in-law was a smooth talking ladies’ man. Sadly, I knew he had it bad for Venus and if he’d made some headway the other night, he’d just fucked it up.

“Can we discuss this somewhere private?” Gareth asked, standing up and taking a few steps toward the seething Venus.

“Nope. Two hundred and twenty strikes and you’re out, asshole,” she hissed. “I was an idiot. Something I will not repeat.”

“That remains to be seen,” he shot back. His eyes had turned green as well. However, he wasn’t angry. He was lusting for her.

“In your dreams, douchecanoe,” she snapped. “Doug, where are you? I want to dance.”

“You are not going to strip,” Gareth snarled, advancing on her.

“No, I am not,” she growled and stopped him with her hand. “But —if I wanted to strip, I would and it would be none of your damned business. Public displays of lewdness are not my thing. I’m going to dance with a classy person who would never betray me.”

“Someone called?” Doug trilled as he jazz-ran over and ended in a pose that made me bite down on my tongue.

I wished he’d at least dressed as the construction worker. The Indian get-up made him look a little girly, but all Gareth seemed to notice was that he was a man. Interesting.

“I called you,” Venus said, as she grabbed the surprised Demon and pulled him close. “I want to dance. Can you make that happen?”

“Your wish is my command, m’lady,” Doug said, sensing the tension with wide eyes and a mischievous grin.

And because Doug was a Demon, he laid a big wet smackaroo on Venus’ mouth. Starting trouble was a Demon’s greatest gift—and Doug was definitely a Demon—a weird one, but a Demon all the same. I wanted to laugh, but Gareth’s eyes had narrowed to slits of jealousy and I bit back my giggle. It was hard to swallow your own medicine, but Gareth deserved it. With a raised middle finger to the furious Gareth, Venus turned and left with Fat Doug the Dancing Demon. They hit the dance floor with a vengeance, Doug twerking like a fool and Venus doing her best to keep up. It was a hot mess, but she’d accomplished her goal. Gareth was fuming.

“She can’t possibly like that Demon,” he snapped without taking his eyes off of her.

Ethan glanced at his brother askance and started to explain the situation. Gareth, in his jealousy, couldn’t see that Doug clearly batted for the other team. I quickly pressed my finger to Ethan’s lips to quiet him. Gareth’s stewing was not our problem to fix. It was his and he was going to have a Hell of a time trying to make it right.

“Do you think they slept together?” Raquel inquired, enjoying watching her brother get his ass handed to him.

“Um… yep, but I think Hell will have to freeze over before it happens again,” I replied watching Gareth stride over to the small dance floor.

“It froze over once,” Heathcliff said as he joined our conversation. “It could happen again.”

“Possibly,” I agreed. “But highly doubtful.”

Thankfully the customers had moved on from watching the sideshow Venus and Gareth had just performed. Hopefully they were too drunk to remember what they’d seen. No one would believe it anyway. It was simply some fake fangs and green contacts…

“We should all dance. We’re here. Let’s make the best of it,” Gemma said as she took The Kev’s hand and pulled him to the dance floor.

“We’re in,” Dixie said, yanking a laughing Hayden into the fray.

“It’s a good idea,” Ethan said, placing his hand on my back and gently pushing me toward Demon Doug’s twerkfest. “We can make sure Venus doesn’t kill Gareth and I can cop a feel of your fine ass.”

“Works for me,” I agreed with a grin. I playfully pushed my bottom back against him. “Feels like you’re very happy to see me.”

“I’m always happy to see you, my love. Unfortunately, I can’t show you how happy I am to see you until tomorrow night. So grinding with you on the dance floor will have to suffice.”

His grin was hot and his words weakened my knees. I loved him so much it was probably going to be my undoing, but I didn’t know any other way. Being with Ethan completed me in unexplainable ways and I knew the feeling was mutual. Yes, I could survive without him because of Samuel, but my life was so much more with him in it.

We danced like idiots. Even some of the strippers and customers joined in. The Kev was working some kind of move that would have been impossible for a mortal man, but as weird as it was he made it look good. He was back in his Michael Bolton disguise and I watched a few drunk dudes try and figure out who the Hell he was. Promising myself to give him a list of more recognizable B-list stars to go for next time, I got into the dancing and let it rip. Dixie and Hayden had some kind of fabulous Pulp Fiction type of groove going, but Doug was the star of the show.

Demon Doug was on fire. He was tossing Venus around like a rag doll and she was screaming with laughter. Gareth stood off to the side pouting like a child. I felt a little sorry for him, but not bad enough to stop having fun. Ethan moved like a dream and he was mine. All mine.

“This is so awesome,” Paris yelled as she hopped around like a jumping bean, smiling from ear to ear. “I love you, Astrid!”

“Love you more,” I yelled back right, as Ethan dipped me and kissed me so thoroughly I forgot my own name.

And that’s when the sign from God came. Well, maybe not God per se, but it was definitely a sign. The old jukebox slowed it down and Open Arms by Journey filled every corner the room. It was more magical than any magic I had inside me. It didn’t matter that we were in a cut rate strip club. The smell, the dirty surroundings, and the fact that there were scantily clad women everywhere disappeared. All I could see was the beautiful man in front of me —my mate and the man I was going to marry tomorrow.

“Slow dance?” Ethan asked with a sexy smirk, holding his strong arms out to me.

“Thought you’d never ask,” I replied, throwing myself at him.

Pressing my body against his felt right and I gloried in the tingles that danced along my skin.

“I thought this would be a clusterfuck,” he whispered in my ear. “I couldn’t have been more wrong.”

But actually he could…

An eerie wind filled with burning silver embers blew up out of nowhere and all the humans scattered in fear. Tables and chairs and pasties flew around the club as the ominous wind grew stronger and louder.

“Dark Fairies,” The Kev yelled, as he dropped his Michael Bolton facade and took on his true form.

Fangs dropped, eyes turned green, and Gemma morphed into something the size of the Hummer we’d ridden in—fangs, claws and spikes included.

“We are definitely gonna have to erase some memories,” Paris said, scanning the room.

Truer words had never been said.

“Show yourselves,” Ethan shouted over the din.

None of us were armed except for Heathcliff who, amazingly, was never unprepared. My worry was for the humans in the bar. They had no part in this game and could die tonight for no reason.

“Paris, Dixie, Hayden — can you get the humans out?” I asked, watching the unsuspecting men and women cowering in abject fear.

No one was drunk enough to forget this one.

“On it,” Dixie said as she, Hayden and Paris began to expertly round them up and shove them out the door.

“I’ll wipe their minds,” Paris yelled as she picked up two huge men, three strippers and made a run for it.

“Holy Hell, she’s strong,” I muttered as I tried to spot the Fairies.

“You will stay out of this,” The Kev tersely instructed the Vampyres. “Gemma and I will take them out. They can hurt you far more than they can hurt us.”

We backed up and made a line of support behind The Kev and Gemma. I’d heard what he’d said, but it didn’t mean I was going to obey. From the expressions on the faces of the other Vamps, I knew we were all on the same page.

And then they appeared. There were six of them—all male. Their beauty rivaled The Kev’s but their evil ways made them pale in comparison to my friend.

“We want the Chosen One,” a dark haired Fairy in the front hissed. “None of you have to die tonight if she comes willingly.”

“I don’t think so,” The Kev said with a benign smile on his face. “She’s having a party and it’s a rather inconvenient time right now.

“Tuesday would be better for me,” I called out with a middle finger salute.

“Not funny,” the lead Fairy roared. “We will continue to open the portals and destroy your world if you don’t come quietly.”

“I’d have to disagree with you there,” Ethan said, stepping up next to The Kev. “Your buddy Spike is dead and you don’t have the ability to find the portals on your own.”

The Fairies exchanged looks. Were they unaware of Spike’s demise? Or were they shocked that Ethan hadn’t died from the magic they’d dosed him with?

“Not to mention, that magic you were using on my mate interested my Uncle Satan tremendously. He’ll be expecting you in Hell soon,” I informed them coldly.

The Kev shot me a look as well as Ethan. I winked at both and they seemed to calm.

And then it hit me.

No fighting needed to take place tonight. I was not going with them, but they’d worn out their welcome in this realm and it was time to send them home.

“Do you trust me?” I asked Ethan and The Kev under my breath.

“Yes,” Ethan said even though my question made him tense.

“I do,” The Kev added.

“Then just stay back. I’ve got this.”

They both gave me a look so stern, I laughed. I wasn’t a helpless female. I was a freak of nature with a new trick up my sleeve that I wanted to try.

“Gemma,” I called out. “I’m I still good to go?”

“Yes,” she answered in a voice far lower than normal. Her beast’s voice was Lauren Bacall-ish—all kinds of sexy. “You’re good to go.”

She winked at me and gnashed her huge fangs. The Dark Fairies stared at her in wonder and fear. She was their soon-to-be Queen. They were in for a massive smackdown when Gemma finally took over.

“Don’t do anything unless I say so,” I muttered, giving my mate a look.

“As you wish—maybe,” Ethan added.

“Fine,” I said, knowing he was incapable of tamping back his alpha-male, Vampyre Prince instincts. “Give me three uninterrupted minutes.”

“Two,” he bargained.

“I probably only need one, so I accept,” I replied cockily.

Ethan’s eye roll was typical and The Kev’s grunt of displeasure was expected, but I knew exactly what I was doing.

“I will walk to you,” I shouted to the Dark Fairies. “You will stay where you are. If anyone makes a move I will summon Satan. He’s very keen on meeting you. You understand?”

“Yes,” the one in the front snarled. “If you bring the Devil into this, you will be sorry.”

“No sorrier than you will,” I shot back politely.

They glanced at each other in slight confusion. They clearly had no sense of irony or humor. They’d ruined my party and I was getting tired. My damned wedding was only hours away. I needed a little beauty rest.

Slowly I approached. They were situated perfectly—one right next to the other. No one innocent had to die tonight. It was the saving grace here and I would take it happily.

“You could have waited until after I’d tied the knot tomorrow,” I griped, as I got within range to try out my new skill. “Get in closer. I want to make it very clear what my terms are.”

“You will make no terms. We will be making the terms, Chosen One,” the head dude snapped, but they amazingly did as I asked.

They were huddled together and bent forward to hear whatever other crazy thing was going to come from my mouth.

“I have a surprise for you,” I promised, puckering my lips and swinging my head left and right while I blew at them like Hell was on my heels.

The expressions of fury on their faces as they dropped like oversized sacks of potatoes was priceless. It was by far the easiest battle I’d ever fought. I didn’t mess up my outfit or my hair. Totally awesome.

“Holy shit! It worked,” I yelled as I backed away from the dazed, confused and incapacitated Dark Fairies. “Do you have The Dave’s cell number?” I asked The Kev. “I think he might like to come and pick these fuckers up.”

“As a matter of fact I do,” The Kev said with an impressed grin. “He’ll be quite happy to get them back and very proud of you.”

I grinned. I adored The Dave. If I could pick a father, it would be him. He was truly special.

Glancing over at the pile of douchebags on the floor, I let my shoulders sag in relief. I was very aware that this was not even close to the last battle I would fight in my life. I was just pleased it was by far the easiest. All of my people were safe and no human blood was spilled.

Win.

Win.

Best damned Bachelorette party ev-ah.

Chapter 22

“Sweet Heaven on Earth—or Hell to be more accurate,” Pam said as her amethyst eyes misted with tears. “You are the most gorgeous bride I’ve ever seen.”

I closed my eyes so I wouldn’t join her crying. My stomach was in knots and I was seconds away from a full-on bridal meltdown. I’d been holed up in Dixie’s childhood bedroom in the Dark Palace since we’d arrived in Hell. Surrounded by my bridesmaids, seamstresses, along with Demon make-up and hair stylists, the morning whipped by in a flurry of crazed activity. I’d barely had time to think, which was actually a good thing, but still….

“Thank you,” I told Pam as I gathered my wits and decided to enjoy the time with my girls.

“Wait until she puts on her dress,” Raquel said with a little squeal. “Our Astrid will be a true princess.”

“Did Satan make a dispensation for the Vamps to spend time in Hell?” Pam asked, carefully removing her bridesmaid gown from the dress bag.

“He did,” Dixie promised, painting her lips with the perfect shade of Chanel pink. “I made sure of that.”

“Good thing,” Pam said, stepping into her dress. “I hate to be celebrating and then have a shitload of Vampyres drop dead. It’d ruin the ambiance and give me gas.”

“Speaking of…” I started.

“Gas?” Pam inquired with a huge grin.

“Um, no. I don’t ever want to hear about your bodily functions. Ever,” I warned her.

“You’re just jealous that you don’t have any, Asscrackada,” she shot back with a cackle.

An enormous eye roll was my answer to that. “The ambiance part. Has anyone seen the Grand Ballroom? I’m a little concerned. After the Big Sean’s Booby Bungalow choice of venue, it might be, um…”

“Tackier than shit?” Pam supplied, politely.

“I would have said uglier than a sack of assholes,” I replied primly, and then burst out in giggles.

“That visual is foul,” Raquel commented wryly with a shake of her red curls. “You two are disgusting and no. Charles and the Baby Demons won’t let anyone in until the wedding starts. Not even Satan.”

“How’s that going over?” Paris asked with a grin.

“I don’t think he’s noticed,” Dixie said, handing out the delicate diamond drop necklace and earring sets I’d bought for my girls. “He’s so put out that he has to stay two hundred feet from Steve Perry, he’s doesn’t know what to do with himself.”

“I thought it was only fifty feet,” I said as I straightened Venus’ dress and then did the clasp on her necklace.

“I upped it to be safe,” Dixie informed me with a wink and a proud smirk.

My gals looked like fairy princesses. The pale pink gowns floated on air and whispered when they moved. The shoes matched and the diamond jewelry finished the off the magic to perfection.

“Where’s our little man?” Pam asked, partaking of the heavily laden food table that Satan had provided.

“He’s with the guys,” I told her, watching her destroy a cheese platter with gusto. “I saw him in his tux. He’s positively the most beautiful baby alive.”

“Of course he is,” she said through a mouthful. “And the smartest. Sweet Baby Moses in crotchless panties, this pound cake is the best damned dessert I’ve ever tasted.”

“Thank you,” Mother Nature squealed, magically blasting into the room in a storm of peach and pink glitter. “I made it myself!”

Pam choked and almost spit the cake from her mouth, but she was far smarter than to incite my grandmother into a hissy fit that could result in God only knew what. With tremendous effort, Pam swallowed the cake and gave Mother Nature a warm hug.

“Am I gonna die from it?” Pam asked with a twinkle in her eye.

Pam was one of the very few that could gently rib my grandmother without getting fried to a crisp.

“Absolutely not,” Gigi purred, still preening over the fact that Pam swallowed her creation. “I’m no longer sending people into gastrointestinal distress with my cooking.”

“You knew?” I asked, surprised.

“Of course I did,” she replied as she circled the room oohing and aahhing over the dresses. “I have no talent in the kitchen—now the bedroom is a different matter altogether.”

“TMI, Gigi,” I cut in quickly before she could go into graphic description of her sex life with my grandfather.

“Sorry, dear. Anyhoo, I’ve secretly hired a cook! My cooking was a test of sorts,” she explained to a now confused room.

“Not following,” I said, as I found the gift I’d gotten her and held the gaily wrapped package out.

“If someone loves me, they’ll eat my food and at the very least pretend to like it before they have to run and find a vomitorium,” she said.

“Vomitorium?” Gemma asked, confused.

“It means a big toilet, darling. I’m old,” Mother Nature explained. She then examined the package in her hands and began to cry.

My stomach dropped. I’d never seen Mother Nature cry. I knew what happened when she got mad, but sad? It was anybody’s guess.

“What’s wrong?” I asked. I moved to her and took her in my arms. “Did I say something wrong?”

“No. You did something,” she blubbered and grabbed one of the many layers of her ethereal peach gown and dabbed at her eyes.

“I’m so sorry. What did I do?”

“You gave me a present,” she wailed inconsolably. “No one gives me presents.”

Shitshitshit. How the Hell was I supposed to know I wasn’t supposed to give her a present? The fucking immortal rules were endless—and weird.

“Doesn’t Grandpa give you presents?” I asked, trying to keep her talking so she didn’t blow up the Dark Palace or something worse.

“Well, yes, but he’s my mate. That’s a requirement,” she replied, still sniffling. “No one but you has ever thought that I might like a present.”

“So, um… that’s a good thing?” I asked tentatively, knowing it could go one of two ways.

“It’s a wonderful thing,” she whispered and lovingly cupped my cheek in her perfectly manicured hand. “May I open it?”

“It’s yours. You can do whatever you want,” I said, so relieved my knees almost buckled.

She tore at the paper with excitement and opened the small box. She then gasped and froze. I prayed to every deity I could think of and a few I made up hoping her reaction was a good sign.

In the box was a locket on a gossamer thin silver chain. Inside the locket was a small hand drawn picture of her and Samuel. The likeness was uncanny and it was almost as clear as a photograph. In the best of worlds it would have been a photograph, but Samuel didn’t show up in pictures.

“Do you like it?” I asked quietly.

“Put it on me,” she demanded.

I did.

“I shall never remove it for the rest of my centuries. It is the most thoughtful and exquisite gift I’ve ever received. I love it!” she screamed and then burst into tears again.

Oh my Hell. Getting married was hard. I wasn’t sure how many more people I could tolerate crying. Being on the verge myself was difficult enough.

“I have to go and check on the food,” Mother Nature said through her sniffles, giving me air kisses. “Mum’s the word on the secret hired cook. I need to see how many people will eat my food thinking I prepared it. It’s a fabulous way to weed out the riffraff.”

She poofed away in another small explosion of glitter. Those in the room that could breathe heaved huge sighs of relief.

“That went far better than expected,” Dixie said with a giggle. “She didn’t even leave a partial jungle behind.”

“Are you ready to put on your dress?” Gemma asked. “It’s almost time.”

Shitshitshitbuttballsalmighty.

My stomach roiled and I was sure my forehead was clammy. I felt like I weighed a thousand pounds. What was wrong with me? Was my body telling me not to get married? Was I giving myself signs that I shouldn’t ignore?

Maybe my immortal side was pissed at my human side and it was making me ill to prove this was an epic mistake. I was already mated. Why in the fucking Hell did I think I needed to get married?

I sat mutely and tried to figure out what to do. I couldn’t move if the Palace caught on fire. My indecision made me immobile.

“She’s having pre-wedding jitters. From what I’ve read on the subject this happens to all brides or at least seventy-two percent of them,” Paris said, examining me as if I were a science experiment.

“What happens to the seventy-two percent?” Gemma asked.

“Well, some ride away on a horse in their wedding gown. Some realize that they’re marrying the wrong guy so they take the honeymoon money and go into the witness protection program. Some snap out of their stupor and tie the knot.”

“What the Hell kind of book were you reading?” Pam asked, perusing the food table.

“It was a combination of books and movies. I’m a little ADD,” Paris explained.

“That certainly explains some of that bullshit you just spouted,” Pam said and then inhaled a few cookies.

“What do we do?” Venus asked as she too looked me over in a slight panic.

“We dress her up and drag her ass down the aisle,” Pam said, tucking a large piece of cake into her bouquet.

What was she going to do with it? Eat it during the ceremony that might or might not happen?

“Um… that sounds kind of violent,” Dixie said, checking my pulse.

“What are you doing?” Raquel asked, pacing tight circles around the chair I was glued to. “She’s dead. She doesn’t have a pulse.”

“Right. I forgot,” Dixie said as she and the others began to freak.

“Astrid,” Paris got in my face and yelled. “Are you in there? We need to bust a move if we’re gonna be on time.”

I just stared and said nothing. I was here. I was just unsure if I should be.

“Jesus! Somebody get Jesus. He’ll know what to do,” Pam said sounding more concerned than usual.

“Jesus is with the groomsmen. I don’t think he’s supposed to see her before the wedding,” Venus said.

“Nope,” Paris corrected her. “The book said the groom can’t see the bride. It said nothing about Jesus seeing the bride.”

“Wait,” Raquel said, now completely confused. “Did the book actually mention Jesus?”

“Um… I forgot,” Paris mumbled, now in full freak out mode. “It might have. Maybe they said Jesus couldn’t see the bride. This is a clusterfuck. Maybe Satan could help. I’m one hundred percent sure he wasn’t mentioned in the wedding book.”

“Satan is having his own meltdown at the moment,” Dixie said wringing her hands. “I don’t think having Dad come in here and bitch about not getting to sit next to Steve Perry is going to help.”

“Agreed,” Raquel said, taking the bull by the horns. “Clear the room. All make-up, hair and sewing people out. We have some girl stuff to do.”

Everyone but my bridesmaids hightailed it out of the room. My friends were whispering and pointing. My rational side knew I needed to pull my shit together, but my irrational side was winning at the moment.

“Get the dress,” Pam instructed, picking me up and holding me like a doll. “Strip her.”

Gemma and Venus removed my robe while Pam held me dangling in the air. Dixie and Paris somehow shoved me into the exquisite Eve of Milady wedding gown and then Venus wedged my feet into the to-die-for Prada shoes. Gemma grabbed my diamond tiara demi veil and pinned it into my hair and Paris swiped my lips with the sheer gloss I’d chosen to wear over my lipstick.

“She a fucking gorgeous zombie,” Pam announced, admiring me.

“Grandpa!” Dixie yelled, startling everyone. “Grandpa can make this right. He can do anything.”

“Should I go get him?” Gemma asked frantically.

“Nope. No time,” Pam grunted as she picked me up and threw me over her shoulder. “We’re going to him. Just surround me so no one realizes I’m carrying her sorry ass like a sack of potatoes. Where is Grandpa?”

“In the parlor next to the Grand Ballroom,” Dixie said.

“Fine. We get her down there and put her in a closet or something so no one sees her like this. Sound good?” Pam asked, heading for the door.

“Wait,” Paris screamed. “We need something borrowed, something blue, something made of mold and something made of glue.”

“Glue and mold? Are you sure?” Gemma asked doubtfully.

“Yes, I’m sure about this one.”

“Cheese is moldy, smear some on her dress,” Pam advised. “And be quick about it.”

“She can borrow my dagger,” Raquel offered. “Yank her dress up. I’ll hook it to her garter.”

“Done,” Venus said. “I have a blue ink pen. Will that work?”

“Yes,” Paris said. “Stick it in her cleavage.”

“What about the glue?” Dixie shrieked, waving her hands in distress. “She can’t get married without the glue.”

They ran around the room like chickens with their heads cut off looking for glue. It was hazy, but it was definitely happening.

“Got it,” Gemma shouted triumphantly, brandishing her find in the air. “Eyelash glue! Found it in the makeup kit that the Demons left behind.”

“Where should we glue her?” Paris asked, worried.

“How about we glue her damned brain back together?” Pam grumbled. “I can’t hold her here forever. Glue her and let’s get this shitshow on the road.”

“Glue her ring to her hand. It will represent her commitment to Ethan,” Raquel suggested.

“Perfect,” Venus said as she glued it tight.

“Wait.” Paris groaned and smacked herself in the head. “I think she has to remove her mating ring to put her wedding ring on.”

“Tough shit,” Venus said as she pushed everyone out the door. “Too late, that sucker isn’t going anywhere.”

Chapter 23

“You put her where?” I heard Grandpa ask.

“In the closet,” Dixie said, near tears. “She got the wedding jingles and went all comatose zombie on us.”

“Jitters,” Paris corrected my cousin. “But the zombie part is accurate.”

“I see,” Grandpa said. “So you carried her down here and shoved her in the closet.”

“I carried. They shoved,” Pam volunteered.

“Sound a little excessive,” Grandpa observed.

“Yes,” Gemma said. “But we made sure she had the borrowed, blue, mold and glue.”

“Oookay,” he said. “Why don’t you gals go get to the back of the Ballroom and I’ll deal with Astrid.”

“Swearing is helpful,” Pam recommended as she left the room. “Works for me all the time—especially words combined with ass. She responds well to that.”

“Thank you. I’ll keep that in mind,” he said, as I heard him close the door to the parlor.

As his footsteps drew near the closet, I hung my head in shame. He was going to be so disappointed in me. Hell, I was disappointed in me.

“Astrid, do you mind if I come in?” he asked.

“No,” I said in a small voice, pushing the coats and umbrellas over. I didn’t realize it rained much in Hell, but it must. There had to be at least fifty black umbrellas in here. “There isn’t much room, but you’re not very big.”

“Being small can come in handy sometimes,” Grandpa said, opening the door and settling himself down next to me. “You look lovely, my dear.”

“Thanks, Grandpa,” I mumbled. “I think I’m having second thoughts.”

“About Ethan?” he questioned. He moved a pair galoshes over and lifted the raincoat off my head.

“No. Not about Ethan. I love him. It’s the getting married part I’m still struggling with.”

“That pesky human versus immortal thing.” He chuckled and patted my head.

“It’s not funny, Grandpa,” I said, feeling hurt.

“I wasn’t laughing at you,” he promised as he took my hand in his. “I’m laughing at the situation. Do you know how many people wish for eternal life?”

“Lots?”

“Yes. But only a few are given the task—or rather gift—of actually living it. We are chosen to endure it and do you know why?” he asked.

“No.”

“Because we’re strong enough to handle it. None of us come to this without pain and suffering in our past, but that’s what makes us the perfect ones to assume the job.”

“Spike and Mary didn’t want to be immortal,” I countered.

“Are these friends of yours?”

“Not Spike, but Mary kind of was—in the end,” I told him.

“There are always exceptions to the rule,” Grandpa stated wisely. “But in my many years, I have found very few. It’s a blessing and a curse. To handle it well, we must stay in touch with the world around us. The humans don’t know of our existence, but we definitely know of theirs. Most of us were human at one point. To negate mortals, or belittle their existence, puts our own existence in danger.”

“This is all very interesting, but I’m not sure how it applies here,” I said, as I laid my head on his shoulder.

“I think the timing of you entering our world is not an accident. The Vampyres now have a leader with the conscience of a mortal. Dehumanization of your kind and mine is far too common. The further the divide, the more difficult it will be to bridge the gap that could end us all.”

“So the division of Vampyre wealth is a good thing?” I asked, perking up and beginning to feel hopeful.

“Yep.”

“And Samuel—the fact that I gave birth to him is good?”

“Very good.”

“And the wedding?” I asked wanting him to finish my thought.

“Getting married is up to you. If you love Ethan and want to bridge the gap between your worlds, I think it’s a beautiful thing.”

We sat in silence while I mulled it over.

“I know the secret of life.”

“Do you?” Grandpa asked with a grin.

“I do,” I answered with a giggle. “I knew it the first time we discussed it.”

“Refresh my memory. I’m an old Demon.”

“It’s love.”

Grandpa leaned over and kissed my cheek. “Yes, my child, it is love. And if you’re lucky enough to find it, celebrate in every way with every ritual you can.”

“I love you.”

“And I, you. You ready to get married?”

A slow smile spread across my face and I crawled out of the closet on my hands and knees. “Yes. Yes I am.”

“Then let’s get this show on the road,” he said, offering me the crook of his arm. “It’s time.”

I straightened my dress and shoved the ink pen further down my cleavage since it didn’t really match. I was wildly unsure if my bridesmaids had gotten it all correct, but I wasn’t taking any chances. I was going to do this right.

Dress, shoes and veil? Check.

Borrowed, blue, mold and glue? Check.

Waiting groom? Check.

Bride who is ready to get married with all of her undead heart? Check. Check. Check.

***

We stood in front of the closed, enormous teak doors to the Grand Ballroom. Grandpa was as steady as a rock and I was shaking—a little. I was really going to do this. Letting go of everything except the fact that I loved Ethan with everything I was calmed me.

It didn’t matter if there were six thousand people inside.

If Charles and the Baby Demons had decorated with hot pink sex toys, it would still be fine—heinous, but fine.

Hearing Martha and Jane warble some random Prince song wouldn’t destroy my wedding. It might burst a few eardrums, but no one would die as a result.

Pam could munch on cake and Satan could pout about Steve Perry avoiding him. At least I was certain that not one person would die from food poisoning today. That was a plus.

All I needed was Ethan, Samuel and the people I cared about around me when I shared my joy and love with the man of my dreams. Grandpa had been correct. I thought too much. Life was a little less complicated when I embraced the moment and just went with my gut. Yes, I had many, many, many years to live, but with Ethan by my side, I would make each of them count.

My dress was exquisite and I felt like a princess. I was going to get laid tonight and, as I knew without a doubt we’d passed the premarital test, Jeff could kiss my ass.

“I’m ready,” I told my Grandpa, as I slid my hand into the crook of his arm. “You look really handsome.”

“Thank you, my darling girl. And you are stunning. I’m so proud of you,” he said with shining eyes. “I had no idea I would be blessed with another granddaughter, but I am so very happy I was. I shall never forget this day.”

“Me neither.” I giggled and planted a kiss on the top his head. “Let’s do it.”

With a wave of his small hand, Grandpa opened the enormous doors with a blast of breezy silver and red magic. I closed my eyes as I heard the lone guitar playing the beginning notes of a song that made me tingle all over.

“Open your eyes child. You don’t want to trip going down the aisle. Do you?” Grandpa asked with a small chuckle.

“I’m afraid to,” I admitted.

“Still having second thoughts?”

“No, not at all. I’m exactly where I want to be. I’m just terrified the Ballroom looks like a brothel on crack.”

“You might be pleasantly surprised,” he said. “Take a peek.”

And I did.

There were not six thousand people in the room. There was not a single pink decoration except the bridesmaid dresses and some of the flowers. Thankfully no sex toys in sight. All of the stripper poles had been removed or at least disguised enough that they were unnoticeable. Mother Nature and Demon Doug had most likely brought their own and were saving them for the reception…

Yes, the carved gold Demon orgies were still embedded in the walls, but we were in Hell after all. And if I wasn’t mistaken—and I wasn’t—all of their privates had been strategically covered with flowers.

The cavernous room glowed with twinkling candlelight. Thousands of candles warmed the overblown grandness of Satan’s massive ballroom and made it cozily magical. Sprays of sparkling golden roses lined the aisles and a simple but tasteful platform was the centerpiece of the ceremony. Pale pink lilies mixed with more of the golden roses spilled over the sides of the stage and huge candelabras bathed the area in warmth.

Charles and the Baby Demons beamed like the little freaks that they were—blowing kisses at me and hopping around like they’d consumed several gallons of coffee.

I glanced at the guests and smiled. I saw Lucy and Elijah. Apparently they were starting to get along better. This was a good thing since Elijah had it really bad for her. Carl, Janet and Myrtle were seated and waving excitedly. Janet was sporting a lovely bushy beard for the ceremony and my grin grew wider as she fluffed it with delight. The Seven Deadly Sins were all in a row, looking bored but behaving well.

There was a group of my Vampyre friends from the Cressida House and a gathering of my Demon friends from Hell. Mr. Rogers and Hemmingway were off to the left side, deep in conversation. I was sure they were making bets on the odds of me showing up. I hoped Mr. Rogers won—he usually did.

Martha and Jane were on the end of the second row warming up their voices. Shit. I’d forgotten about my present. They both saluted me with their middle fingers and I knew all was right with the world. It would have been far more disturbing if they’d blown kisses.

Sir James and his daughter Cathy looked regal and lovely. They were Heathcliff’s father and sister, and therefore my family. A sad smile pulled at my lips as I thought of my beloved Nana. She was in Heaven and she was the love of Sir James’ life. He waited patiently for the time she was allowed to come back to him. It was my one sadness of the day that she wasn’t here. I truly hoped she was able to watch me get married from Heaven.

A tiny squeal left my lips when I spotted The Dave with Susu, Lulu, Tutu and Huhu. The miniature Fairies were beside themselves and flitted around The Dave’s head like gnats. Susu was eyeing Gemma with besotted adoration. Gemma hadn’t met her tiny Guardian Angel yet. Susu was a freakin’ nutbag, Gemma was in for the ride of her life with that one.

Mother Nature sat in the front row with her sons on each side. A shimmering silver and golden glow surrounded my Uncle God. He nodded his head to me and a feeling of absolute peace and harmony rushed into my body and settled in a warm little ball near my heart. Satan, on the other hand, was clearly still pouting about Steve Perry. Lucifer waved but then pointed in frustration at the famous singer who was tucked safely in a seat across the aisle and several rows back. The reception should be interesting…

Mother Nature, slapped the back of Satan’s head as God tried to cover a covert laugh. Satan rolled his eyes and slumped low in his chair. My grandma then blew me a kiss and winked at Grandpa.

The bridesmaids and groomsmen were in the back with me ready to walk. A door opened in the far wall of the ballroom and the most beautiful man in the world walked out and took his place on the platform. His eyes were glued to me and mine to his.

What in the living Hell had I been worried about?

Everything about this moment and the man I was marrying was perfect.

Rejoice in love in every way possible. The thought of the many years ahead and the ways I could accomplish didn’t scare me anymore. Nope, the thought excited me. I was going to love Ethan like he’d never been loved—with my mind, my body and my non-beating heart.

“Mommy, do me go yet?” Samuel asked, pulling on my dress.

He was such a handsome little boy—just like his daddy. Balancing the pillow with rings on it carefully in his hands, he sat atop Bambi the Hellhound. Bambi was ginning so hard I couldn’t help but join her. All three rows of the Hellhound’s razor sharp teeth were showing. If I didn’t know and love her, I would have run for my undead life. Bambi was a fine example about not judging a book by its cover. She held a basket of golden rose petals in her canines and wore a garland of pale pink lilies around her thick and hairy neck.

“I’m so honored to be the flower girl,” she told me as she nudged me lovingly. “This is a first for me.”

“Me too,” I said as I bent down and hugged her. “Is Samuel okay on your back?”

“Another honor,” she replied with a snuffle. “He’s a delight like I have never known. You must bring him to visit me more often.”

“Yesssss!” Samuel agreed as he buried his face in Bambi’s fur. “Bambi will love Blobbityflonk!”

“I’m sure she would. Is he here?” I asked with a slight wince. Our baboon was capable of tremendous damage.

“Yes! He in the kitchen cooking up a storm!” Samuel informed me.

Sweet Hell in a supersonic hand basket. Was Blobbityflonk Mother Nature’s secret chef? Wonders would never cease to amaze me.

“Okay, Samuel and Bambi, it’s time to go,” Demon Doug said quietly as he gently gave Bambi a little push. “Remember to smile.”

Demon Doug had gone all out. He looked like an Elton John impersonator from the 70’s. The tight pantsuit, platform boots and humongous sunglasses were something to behold. However, his outfit belied his calm and professional manner. He couldn’t stop himself from throwing up a few jazz hands, but he was running the show in the back with loving military precision.

“The wedding party will go next and then you and your grandpa,” he whisper-squealed and then did a quick and mind boggling cartwheel.

Well… professional for a rotund, dancing, gay Demon.

The guitar still played the intro to the song. It repeated the same beautiful refrain over and over as the words seemed to wait for me.

Each of the couples walked down the aisle and took their places on the stage.

Dixie with Hayden.

Pam with The Kev.

Raquel with Heathcliff.

Paris Hilton with my cousin Jesus.

And finally Venus with Gareth. I was happy to see that Gareth was still alive. However, Venus refused to even spare him a glance as they made their way to their spots, much to his frustration.

Jesus came as a dapper hippie—long hair, sandals and a Jim Morrison t-shirt. It was totally fabu with his tux. His smile and hug warmed me to the core. I was so humbled that he and God had come to Hell for the wedding.

Gemma and The King were the last to walk as they were the Best Man and Maid of Honor.

“I love you, Astrid,” Gemma whispered as she hugged me tight. “We’ve waited for this since we were little girls.”

“It’s kinda perfect. Right?” I said as happy tears pooled in my eyes.

“Totally, dude. And you’ll be pleased to know there’s not one clown here.”

“Amen to that,” I said with a giggle.

The King gave me a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek. “Welcome to the family—again.”

“Thank you—again,” I replied and kissed him back.

“See you down there,” Gemma said over her shoulder, as she and The King walked to their spots.

“Looks like it’s our turn,” Grandpa said, squeezing my hand.

“Yep,” I agreed and glanced around one last time. I knew when I got to Ethan, he was all I would see.

Steve Perry stepped up to a mic, gave me a wink, and started to sing. Happy chills ran through my body as my friend sang the beautiful words to Marry Me by Train. I wasn’t sure who picked the song, but it couldn’t have been more right.

“Forever can never be long enough for me,” Steve sang as I started to walk.

The song filled my soul and the words defined my feelings. I felt the impulse to run to Ethan, but thankfully Grandpa had my arm tucked firmly through his. His slower pace was far more appropriate. It would have been a major faux pas for me to sprint down the aisle dragging my grandfather, but it was exactly what I wanted to do.

Ethan’s eyes burned green with love and adoration as I approached. Grandpa handed me over and shook Ethan’s hand before he seated himself between Mother Nature and Satan.

“Stunning,” Ethan whispered.

“Back at ya, Sexy Pants,” I said, as I held onto him for purchase.

Ethan in a tux should be illegal. He was more beautiful than any movie star or model from a magazine. But even more important than his fine abs, ass, lips and things I couldn’t think about while Uncle God and Jesus were present, was his soul. It was kind, strong, loving and good. And it was mine.

Movement out of the corner of my eye pulled my focus from my mate to the man approaching the stage.

It was Jeff the premarital Angel and he was grinning from ear-to-ear. His unruly red hair was slicked back and he wore a pair of wire rim glasses instead of the horn rims I’d seen. But the kicker was his wings—huge, fluffy and as white as snow. He was still dorky, but beautiful at the same time.

“I’m pleased to let you know you passed,” Jeff informed us with a pious nod.

“Thank God,” I said sarcastically.

“What?” God called out from his chair as Ethan blanched and I wanted to crawl under something.

“Um… nothing,” I stammered while Jeff gave me the eyeball. “My bad. Sorry.”

“No worries,” God replied with a chuckle. “Happens all the time. Carry on, please.”

Jeff cleared his throat a few times, adjusted his wings and pushed his glasses up on his nose. “Because of the rather non-traditional venue, I’ve been forbidden to do a regular religious ceremony,” Jeff said with a slightly sour look on his freckled face.

“Damn straight,” Satan shouted and then got walloped by both his mother and father.

Ignoring the now cursing Devil, Jeff continued. “So why don’t we go ahead with the vows you’ve written to each other.”

Ethan and I froze. What in the living Hell was douchebag Jeff talking about? We were supposed to write vows? Why didn’t I know this? I shot Charles a look that made him duck for cover. Shit, could our file be reopened? Would we fail because of this new fucked up wrinkle?

“Um… we didn’t exactly write vows,” I mumbled.

“You didn’t do your homework?” Jeff asked looking down his nose at us as his wings ruffled in distress.

“We were kind of busy killing stuff and trying to stay alive,” Ethan offered lamely.

“This could be a problem,” he said. He produced a manual out of thin air and proceeded to frantically page through it searching for the answer of this new problem.

“Ahhh, give me a fucking break,” Pam groused through a mouthful of cake as she stomped over from her position in line and shoved Jeff out of the way. “You are too pious for your own good, Jeff. What we need here is a female Angel with some sass and attitude. God, are you good with this?” Pam asked the Heavenly Father.

“I’m good.” God gave Pam a thumbs up. “Let’s try to keep the profanity to a minimum, though,” he suggested.

“Will do. Asstastic, did you hear the man?” she demanded with a cackle.

“Pretty sure he was talking to you,” I shot back with an eye roll.

“Hmm…” She considered the possibility and then shrugged it off with a grin. “You ready for me to marry you two?”

“Do we have a choice?” I asked with an answering grin.

“Nope.”

“Then we’re ready,” Ethan chimed in gamely.

“What about the vows we didn’t write?” I whispered to Pam.

“No worries. Just pull them out of your ass,” she said.

“Pam…” God called out with a raised brow.

“Sorry,” she apologized to her boss. “I meant to say butt—not ass. Pull them out of your butt… please.”

“So we just make them up?” I asked, terrified.

“You have a better plan?” she inquired.

I looked at Ethan and then I looked back at Pam. I didn’t have a better plan. I didn’t have any plan at all.

“We’ll wing it,” I choked out to the delight of our friends and family.

Ethan nodded, but looked as unsettled as I felt.

We were about to wing the Hell out of it and then some.

The crowd stared and waited. If it was embarrassing, I planned to wipe the memories of everyone in attendance. It would be hard but doable.

“Just say what’s in your heart,” Pam suggested with a wink.

“I can do that,” I said as I glanced up at Ethan and smiled. I could definitely do that. “Ethan, you are my best friend. Today I promise you this… I will laugh with you and cry with you. I will support you in kicking ass and taking no prisoners—I mean unless we have to take prisoners so we can get to the bottom of whatever clusterhump is happening. With you, I want to build a home full of love for our son and I want to live everyday of our excessively long lives together with you by my side. I will be your friend, partner, and lover until the end of time. I love you, Ethan.”

Ethan’s smile delighted me and his kiss sent my head into a spin.

“Not yet, boy,” Pam chastised him. “You say your vows and then I say the man and wife crap and then you can kiss her. Got it?”

“Got it,” he replied with a shrug and a lopsided grin. “Astrid, you are the light in my life that I’ve waited an eternity for. It wasn’t until you came to me that I understood what living and love truly meant. I will always be your biggest fan and your partner in crime—mostly white collar of course—unless the bad guys deserve to be destroyed. I will love and cherish you and I will do my best not to be an alpha-hole. This will be difficult at times, but I’ll work on it. With you, I will build a life full of love for our child. I will love and cherish you till the end of time. I love you, Astrid.”

“You done?” Pam asked Ethan.

“And I will be your lover,” he added quickly with a sexy gleam in his eye.

“Now are you done?” she inquired with a laugh.

“Yes. I’m done now.”

“Alrightyroo, by the power vested in me because I’m a freakin’ Angel, I now pronounce you husband and wife. Now you can kiss the bride,” Pam shouted to the cheers of our guests.

And he did.

He kissed the ever lovin’ heck out of me.

And I kissed him right back.

Chapter 24

“Let the festivities begin!” Satan shouted, taking a grand bow and accepting applause like it was his due.

Food and drink came through the swinging doors and music filled the huge ballroom. Mirror balls dropped in from the ceiling and Demons in red tuxedos quickly moved all the chairs from the ceremony and placed them at the large tables that had magically appeared. Shimmering golden balloons floated around the room and bounced off the heads of the delighted guests. I’d never been hugged and kissed so much in my life. I held my son in my arms and my husband stood at my side. It was all kinds of awesome.

As I’d suspected, Blobbityflonk was Mother Nature’s secret chef. He wore a crisp white chef’s hat and an apron—and looked ridiculous. He ran circles around the ballroom making sure plates were filled, startling the pants off of most of the guests. Mother Nature took all the accolades for the food, but Blobbityflonk could have cared less. He was flirting his baboon ass off with the very receptive Bambi. I saw some half-baboon, half-Hellhound babies in our future…

Many guests were dancing and those that could eat were partaking with enthusiasm. Satan had generously provided O positive for those who couldn’t consume food. There were open bars in every corner and the enormous wedding cake was the crowning jewel. I knew I couldn’t eat it, but I spotted Gemma stuffing some in her mouth so I could taste it.

The lights dimmed and I expected my buddy, Steve Perry, to take the stage, but I was premature. The crowd cringed as two old biddies in sheer, flowing, pale pink tops with sequined matching boob tubes underneath paired with gold lame hot pants and black orthopedic shoes strode onto the stage. I rolled my eyes, but strangely looked forward to the hot mess that was about to occur.

“I’d like to point out that we kept to the color scheme that Hooters McMarriedboobs chose,” Martha bellowed into the mic. “We were going to wear orange, but that little three headed freak threatened to turn us into shit piles.”

“That’s correct,” Jane added as she picked up a second mic while pulling her underpants out of her crack. “We would like all of you to know that we will be appearing on American Idol this season. We won in Xanthia and have blackmailed that little fuck, Simon Cowell, into working a deal out for us.”

“Well done,” Satan shouted. “I approve.”

“We’ll be touring Siberia after the show ends and have a website you can subscribe to. It’s called We Can Sing the Shit Out of Anything. Our business cards will be at the door when you leave,” Jane announced.

“We’re also on Facebook and Twitter,” Martha added.

“I love Facebook,” Sloth yelled as she and the other Deadly Sins scoped out some of my male Vampyre friends.

“You’ll find lighters on the tables to use during our performance,” Martha said, doing a few deep knee bends to warm her skinny old bones up. “Try not to light anyone on fire. It will smell bad and Breasticle Knockersman won’t be happy. Without further ado, we give you our rendition of…”

“Back in Black!” Jane grunted as the very famous beginning of one of the best songs ever written was about to be butchered.

“Oh Hell no,” Ethan groaned, pressing the bridge of his nose and trying not to laugh.

“Um… oh Hell yes,” I replied with a grimace. “I’m thinking we’ll never be able to listen to this song again.”

“It okay mommy,” Samuel said, playing with my tiara. “Marfa and Jane practiced. It was so good all the glass bwoke in their room!”

“Awesome,” I said, as I kissed my positive little man.

It took nine minutes, forty-three seconds, and three encores to get them off the stage. The best part was when Martha tried to do the drool thing that Angus from AC/DC had perfected. Martha choked and Jeff had to run on stage and give her the Heimlich. It was mortifyingly appropriate that Jane never stopped singing even when her sister was potentially dying.

No one used the lighters. My friends and family were too shocked and needed their hands to cover their ears. God and Jesus were the only two who actually danced at the edge of the stage, but they were the kindest guys in the Universe—literally.

“Never seen anything like that,” Gemma said, offering me her wrist. “The cake is unbelievable. Try it.”

“Don’t mind if I do,” I said as I bit down on her wrist.

My eyes rolled back in my head, it was so delicious. She offered her other wrist to Samuel who had the same reaction I did. Blobbityflonk was a culinary genius. I filed the discovery away in my head and made a mental list of all the food I missed. Wonderful things came in strange hairy packages.

“You didn’t tell me your grandmother was going to dance,” Ethan said as he paled.

“I tried to block it out,” I told him.

We all watched in horror as two poles descended from the ceiling. Mother Nature was on one and Fat Gay Demon Doug was on the other. Everyone clapped politely because they were terrified not to.

The mirror balls increased in speed and the room became a bad acid flashback. Everyone in attendance let out horrified gasps as I Like Big Butts by Sir Mix-A-Lot blasted through the speakers. Mother Nature and Demon Doug went to town. Grandma Gigi only fell off her pole three times and thankfully everyone was too polite to point or laugh. Demon Doug, on the other hand, didn’t fall once. He was difficult to watch, but at least he stayed on the pole.

“She’s a real pro,” Grandpa shouted over the loud music. “She falls off and gets right back on.”

I smiled and nodded. I was too afraid I would say something that might be overheard by Mother Nature and my reception would end with a monsoon.

When they finished, they were both limping but so proud that I clapped like a fool. Nudging my appalled mate, I indicated that he’d better cheer like there was no tomorrow… because one never knew with my Grandmother.

“Please tell me the entertainment is over,” Ethan said in between whistling for the outrageous performance from Mother Nature and Demon Doug.

“Only good stuff is left,” I promised as I leaned in and kissed him, smooshing a giggling Samuel between us.

The mirror ball went back to a speed that didn’t induce seasickness and the lights in the room lowered. Two spotlights illuminated and the crowd hushed. One spotlight picked up Steve Perry as he humbly walked onto the stage and the other lit the area smack in the middle of the empty dance floor.

“I’m here tonight because my dear friend Astrid invited me,” Steve said with a smile and a nod to Ethan and me. “I wish the very best to Astrid and Ethan. A love like theirs is something to be cherished and protected. I’m only a mere Unicorn singer, but I’d like to offer you a gift. Astrid, Ethan, can you come to the dance floor?”

Gemma took a sleepy Samuel from my arms and Ethan led me to the center of the spotlight. After a bow of thanks to Mr. Perry, Ethan held out his strong arms. I went to him with no hesitation because I was home. Home was where the heart was and he had mine forever.

“I need one more thing,” Steve Perry said with a huge sigh. “I may live to regret this one, but I need a piano player for this particular piece. Many of you will be surprised by this man’s virtuoso talent—on the piano. Don’t ever ask him to sing. That’s a whole different ball of wax… Lucifer would you do us the honor of playing for me tonight?”

The girly squeal that came from the crowd made me laugh. Satan ran to the stage like his pants were on fire up before Steve Perry could change his mind. He went to hug the living shit out of his idol, but Steve held up the restraining order and Satan backed off.

Satan snapped his fingers and a gorgeous Baby Grand appeared. He seated himself and ran his fingers over the pearly whites like a freakin’ concert pianist.

“Did you know he could play?” Ethan whispered as we watched open mouthed.

“Nope. No clue.”

But my uncle was the Devil. I was certain he had many talents we didn’t know about. Singing wasn’t one of them, but the piano clearly was. Steve Perry said something quietly to Satan and Satan bit down on his lips in excitement. The most evil man in the Universe was as giddy as a child on Christmas morning. Lots of dreams were coming true tonight.

Then magic happened.

The quiet melody, played to perfection by the Prince of Darkness, began. The hauntingly beautiful opening notes of Open Arms drifted through the ballroom and a collective sigh was expelled by those who could breathe.

“May I have this dance, my bride?” Ethan asked with a smile that melted my undead heart and set my girlie parts into overdrive.

“Why yes, my husband. I believe you can,” I replied.

Steve Perry sang and Satan played. I was in the arms of the man who I would happily spend eternity with and the world spun perfectly on its axis. The dance seemed to last only seconds, but I’d be dancing with the man in my arms for many life times to come. Samuel joined us as Steve Perry went into a medley of his greatest hits and all our friends and family hit the dance floor.

Everyone danced—even Jeff. I boogied with Charles and the Baby Demons and congratulated them on a job well done. Grandpa and I had our “Father-Daughter” dance and I did the Bunny Hop with Samuel until I thought my feet would fall off. Ethan was a good sport and cut the rug with Mother Nature. I even saw Venus and Gareth dancing. Interesting.

The Kev kept changing his façade until he settled on Donny Osmond—everyone recognized Donny Osmond. And he even thought to conjure up some purple socks. God and Jesus only stayed for a short time, but gave me a whispered message from my Nana—she approved and wished me many blessings on my special day. She told them to tell me she loved me and would see me soon. The message made me cry and Ethan held me in his arms while I blubbered in happiness.

Satan played the piano the entire evening, much to the delight of all. And I even got to smoosh some cake in Ethan’s face. Of course he smooshed some back, but it was a wedding and that’s what you do.

I returned the ink pen and the dagger to my bridesmaids and Pam did a little hocus pocus so my ring wouldn’t be glued to my hand for eternity—not that I was going to take it off, but the glue was getting itchy. Samuel grew tired so Pam and The King took him to bed. After many hours the reception was winding down and my friends were all leaving.

“Can we go yet?” Ethan asked impatiently.

“Why? Is there someplace you need to be?” I asked feigning a yawn and confusion.

“Yes,” he hissed and pointed to the tent in his pants. “My porksword is demanding conjugal rites with his wife.”

“I think I can fit that in—pun intended,” I teased as I grabbed his hand and led him out of the room. “Did you have somewhere specific in mind?”

“The hallway would work, but it might make a few people uncomfortable,” he said with a sexy smirk.

“Satan did provide a honeymoon suite. Could I interest you in that?” I asked. I felt my eyes go green with desire.

“Is it soundproofed?” he asked.

“I think so.”

“Good. Because we’re going to make some noise tonight.”

“That’s the sexiest thing you’ve ever said.”

“I’ve got more,” he said, picking me up and kissing me silly.

“I can’t wait to hear it,” I said as I wrapped my legs around him and nipped at his lips. “Take me to the suite.”

“Thought you’d never ask.”

Chapter 25

“This might sound crazy, but I think married sex is even better.” I traced the light sprinkling of blond hair on Ethan’s chest and snuggled closer.

“That was pretty damned good,” he agreed smugly with a very satisfied grin. “But I do believe we should test it out a few more times to make sure.”

“Six times wasn’t enough?” I giggled and quickly straddled him.

All he had to do was look at me and I was ready. Making love with my husband was spiritually, physically and mind blowingly awesome. Never would I get enough of my man.

“Six hundred times wouldn’t be enough,” he said as his eyes hooded and his fangs dropped.

“That would kill us,” I pointed out as my own fangs descended.

“Not a problem. Already dead.”

“You think you’re so smart,” I said with a laugh, leaning down and getting in his face.

“Nope,” he disagreed, flipping us and pinning me beneath him. “I think I’m that good.”

“Prove it,” I challenged.

“With pleasure,” he shot back.

We were skin-to-skin and his familiar body felt somehow new to me. I knew we hadn’t changed, but maybe we had—we were more.

Maybe sharing our love and joy wasn’t just a stupid human ritual—maybe it meant something far more important.

His carnal smirk sent zings of delight through my body and I arched into him wanting to be even closer.

Was it possible to love someone this much? Was it healthy? Did I care?

Ethan watched the emotions flit across my face and smiled with amusement.

“What are you thinking?” he asked, looking down at me with an expression full of adoration and lust.

“I’ve never felt so beautiful or wanted,” I whispered.

“You are both,” he said as his lips met mine and our tongues tangled in a rhythm that was age old—and very, very hot.

His lips and fangs feathered over my skin, making my body feel like molten lava. Wave after wave of desire and need washed through me as his body ground into mine.

“Need you,” I cried out hoarsely. “Need you now.”

“Not sure you’re ready yet,” he growled as his mouth closed over my nipple and I arched up and screamed.

“I’m ready,” I panted. “I’m sosososososo ready.”

“Let me check,” he teased. He slid his hand down my body and settled between my legs.

“Oh my God,” I moaned as he found the spot and pressed. Stars blasted across my vision and I was certain I was speaking in tongues.

“More,” I begged as my body convulsed in orgasm. “Please.”

He went from teasing to serious in a short second. His hands and mouth memorized my body in the most sensual way. I writhed against him and parted my legs, silently begging for what I wanted. Speech eluded me as moan after moan left my lips. Fangs clashed and our kisses became more violent with need.

“Need. You,” I ground out. My hands pressed against his back willing him to take me to heights only he could.

“Your wish is my command.”

He entered me in one swift thrust and we both cried out in carnal satisfaction. My umpteenth orgasm came on quickly and my body locked around his like a vise. Ethan’s movement became frantic as I rode out the aftershocks and pulled on his hair until his lips met mine.

“I love you,” he hissed against my mouth as he increased the speed of our love making, throwing me into another orgasm so intense I was sure the entire Dark Palace could hear my screams.

I didn’t care. Nothing mattered but him and me and the perfect joining of our bodies.

“I love you more,” I whispered, keeping full eye contact as his own orgasm consumed him.

It was so freakin’ sexy my body joined him. Sinking my fangs into the smooth skin of his neck sent him over the edge again and he returned the favor like a true gentleman. I wasn’t sure he was correct about us living through this kind of pleasure, but it was a fine way to go if one had to leave this world.

We laid in quiet sexual stupor for a few minutes. Coherent speech was impossible for both of us. I closed my eyes and breathed him in. Contentment like I’d never known washed over me and I giggled.

“I thought you were asleep,” Ethan said as he pulled me even closer.

“Nope. Just wondering if we were still alive after that one.”

“Not real sure,” he replied with a chuckle. “But if we are, I think we should do it again.”

I took in what he said with a surprised laugh. Running my hands over his body, I discovered his happy camper was indeed ready to go again. Unbelievable.

“You’re serious?”

“Yep. I’m very serious.”

I squealed with delight as his strong arms pulled me on top of him.

“It’s your turn to take the reins, Cowgirl. Can you do that?” he asked with a lopsided grin that I would swear made my dead heart beat like a jackhammer.

“I do believe I can handle that, Tex,” I purred, tipping my imaginary cowgirl hat.

And I did.

Six more times.

Our wedding day would go down in history for many reasons—Satan’s piano playing, Mother Nature’s pole debacle, Martha and Jane’s butchering of a classic, God and Jesus in Hell, my zombie episode…

But the one I would remember the most was the wild, loving, sexy, beautiful, mind-boggling, perfect time I was having in this very moment.

## The End. For Now… ##

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~ Robyn Peterman

KEEP READING in this ebook to see an excerpt

from NEARLY DEPARTED IN DEADWOOD by author Ann Charles.

After that, KEEP READING to see first book excerpts from Robyn’s other series:

Ready To Wear
(Book 1, Shift Happens Series)

Switching Hour
(Book 1, Magic and Mayhem Series)

Excerpt: Nearly Departed In Deadwood

The first time I came to Deadwood, I got shot in the ass. Now, twenty-five years later, as I stared into the double barrels of Old Man Harvey’s shotgun, irony was having a fiesta and I was the piñata.

I tried to produce a polite smile, but my cheeks had petrified along with my heart. “You wouldn’t shoot a girl, would you?”

Old Man Harvey snorted, his whole face contorting with the effort. “Lady, I’d blow the damned Easter bunny’s head off if he was tryin’ to take what’s mine.”

He cocked his shotgun—his version of an exclamation mark.

“Whoa!” I would have gulped had there been any spit left in my mouth. “I’m not here to take anything.”

He replied by aiming those two barrels at my chest instead of my face.

“I’m with Calamity Jane Realty, I swear! I came to …”

With Harvey threatening to fill my lungs with peepholes, I had trouble remembering why I’d driven out to this corner of the boonies. Oh, yeah. Lowering one of my hands, I held out my crushed business card. “I want to help you sell your ranch.”

The double barrels clinked against one of the buttons on my Rebecca Taylor-knockoff jacket as Harvey grabbed my card. I swallowed a squawk of panic and willed the soles of my boots to unglue from the floorboards of Harvey’s front porch and retreat. Unfortunately, my brain’s direct line to my feet was experiencing technical difficulties.

Harvey’s squint relaxed. “Violet Parker, huh?”

“That’s me.” My voice sounded pip-squeaky in my own ears. I couldn’t help it. Guns made my thighs wobbly and my bladder heavy. Had I not made a pit stop at Girdy’s Grill for a buffalo burger and paid a visit to the little Hens room, I’d have a puddle in the bottom of my favorite cowboy boots by now.

“Your boots match your name. What’s a ‘Broker Associate’?”

“It’s someone who is going to lose her job if she doesn’t sell a house in the next three weeks.” I lowered my other hand.

I’d been with Calamity Jane Realty for a little over two months and had yet to make a single sale. So much for my radical, life-changing leap into a new career. If I didn’t make a sale before my probation was up, I’d have to drag my kids back down to the prairie and bunk with my parents … again.

“You’re a lot purtier in this here picture with your hair down.”

“So I’ve been told.” Old Man Harvey seemed to be channeling my nine-year-old daughter today. Lucky me.

“Makes you look younger, like a fine heifer.”

I cocked my head to the side, unsure if I’d just been tossed a compliment or slapped with an insult.

The shotgun dipped to my belly button as he held the card out for me to take back.

“Keep it. I have plenty.” A whole box full. They helped fill the lone drawer in my desk back at Calamity Jane’s.

“So that asshole from the bank didn’t send you?”

“No.” An asshole from my office had, and the bastard would be extracting his balls from his esophagus for this so-called generous referral—if I made it back to Calamity Jane’s without looking like a human sieve.

“Then how’d you know about my gambling problem?”

“What gambling problem?”

Old Man Harvey’s eyes narrowed again. He whipped the double barrels back up to my kisser. “The only way you’d know I’m thinking about selling is if you heard about my gambling debt.”

“Oh, you mean that gambling problem.”

“What’d you think I meant?”

Bluffing was easier when I wasn’t chatting up a shotgun. “I thought you were referring to the … um …” A tidbit of a phone conversation I’d overheard earlier this morning came to mind. “To the problem you had at the Prairie Dog Palace.”

Harvey’s jaw jutted. “Mud wrestling has no age limit.”

“You’re right. They need to be less age-biased. Maybe even have an AARP Night every Wednesday.”

“Nobody told me about the bikini bit ‘til it was too late.”

I winced. I couldn’t help it.

“So, what’re you gonna charge me to sell my place?”

“What would you like me to charge you?” I was all about pleasing the customer this afternoon.

He leaned the gun on his shoulder, double barrels pointed at the porch ceiling. “The usual, I guess.”

No longer on the verge of extinction, I used the porch rail to keep from keeling over. Maybe I just wasn’t cut out for the realty business. Did they still sell encyclopedias door-to-door?

“This ranch belonged to my pappy, and his pappy before him.” Harvey’s lips thinned as he stared over my shoulder.

“It must hold a big place in your heart.” I tried to sound sincere as I inched along the railing toward the steps. My red Bronco glinted and beckoned under the July sun.

“Hell, no. I can’t wait to shuck this shithole.”

“What?” I’d made it as far as the first step.

“I’m sick and tired of fixin’ rusted fences, chasing four-wheeling fools through my pastures, sniffing out lost cows in every damned gulch and gully.” His blue eyes snapped back to mine. “And I keep hearing funny noises at night coming from out behind my ol’ barn.”

I followed the nudge of his bearded chin. Weathered and white-washed by Mother Nature, the sprawling building’s roof seemed to sag in the afternoon heat. The doors were chained shut, one of the haymow windows broken. “Funny how?”

“Like grab-your-shotgun funny.”

Normally, this might give me pause, but after the greeting I’d received today from the old codger’s double barrels, I had a feeling that Harvey wore his shotgun around the house like a pair of holey underwear. I’d bet my measly savings he even slept with it. “Maybe it’s just a mountain lion,” I suggested. “The paper said there’s been a surge of sightings lately.”

“Maybe. Maybe not,” Harvey shrugged. “I don’t care. I want to move to town. It gets awful lonely out here come wintertime. Start thinking about things that just ain’t right. I almost married a girl from Taiwan last January. Turned out ‘she’ was really a ‘he’ from Nigeria.”

“Wow.”

“Damned Internet.” Harvey’s gaze washed over me. “What about you, Violet Parker?”

“What about me?”

“There’s no ring on your finger. You got a boyfriend?”

“Uh, no.”

I didn’t want one, either. Men had a history of fouling up my life, from burning down my house to leaving me knocked up with twins. These days, I liked my relationships how I liked my eggs: over-easy.

Harvey’s two gold teeth twinkled at me through his whiskers. “Then how about a drink? Scotch or gin?”

I chewed on my lip, considering my options. I could climb into my Bronco and watch this opportunity and the crazy old bastard with the trigger-happy finger disappear in my rearview mirror; or I could blow off common sense and follow Harvey in for some hard liquor and maybe a signed contract.

Like I really had a choice. “Do you have any tonic?”

## Visit http://www.anncharles.com/ for information about this title. ##

Excerpt: READY TO WERE

Book Description

I never planned on going back to Hung Island, Georgia. Ever.

I was a top notch Were agent for the secret paranormal Council and happily living in Chicago where I had everything I needed –  a gym membership, season tickets to the Cubs and Dwayne – my gay, Vampyre best friend. Going back now would mean facing the reason I’d left and I’d rather chew my own paw off than deal with Hank.

Hank the Tank Wilson was the six foot three, obnoxious, egotistical, perfect-assed, best-sex-of-my-life, Werewolf who cheated on me and broke my heart. At the time, I did what any rational woman would do. I left in the middle of the night with a suitcase, big plans and enough money for a one-way bus ticket to freedom. I vowed to never return.

But here I am, trying to wrap my head around what has happened to some missing Weres without wrapping my body around Hank. I hope I don’t have to eat my words and my paw.

***This novella originally appeared in the Three Southern Beaches collection released July of 2014. This is an extended version of that story.

Chapter 1

“You’re joking.”

“No, actually I’m not,” my boss said and slapped the folder into my hands. “You leave tomorrow morning and I don’t want to see your hairy ass till this is solved.”

I looked wildly around her office for something to lob at her head. It occurred to me that might not be the best of ideas, but desperate times led to stupid measures. She could not do this to me. I’d worked too hard and I wasn’t going back. Ever.

“First of all, my ass is not hairy except on a full moon and you’re smoking crack if you think I’m going back to Georgia.”

Angela crossed her arms over her ample chest and narrowed her eyes at me. “Am I your boss?” she asked.

“Is this a trick question?”

She huffed out an exasperated sigh and ran her hands through her spiked ‘do making her look like she’d been electrocuted. “Essie, I am cognizant of how you feel about Hung Island, Georgia, but there’s a disaster of major proportions on the horizon and I have no choice.”

“Where are you sending Clark and Jones?” I demanded.

“New York and Miami.”

“Oh my god,” I shrieked. “Who did I screw over in a former life that those douches get to go to cool cities and I have to go home to an island called Hung?”

“Those douches do have hairy asses and not just on a full moon. You’re the only female agent I have that looks like a model so you’re going to Georgia. Period.”

“Fine. I’ll quit. I’ll open a bakery.”

Angela smiled and an icky feeling skittered down my spine. “Excellent, I’ll let you tell the Council that all the money they invested in your training is going to be flushed down the toilet because you want to bake cookies.”

The Council consisted of supernaturals from all sorts of species. The branch that currently had me by the metaphorical balls was WTF—Werewolf Treaty Federation. They were the worst as far as stringent rules and consequences went. The Vampyres were loosey goosey, the Witches were nuts and the freakin’ Fairies were downright pushovers, but not the Weres. Nope, if you enlisted you were in for life. It had sounded so good when the insanely sexy recruiting officer had come to our local Care For Your Inner Were meeting.

Training with the best of the best. Great salary with benefits. Apartment and company car. But the kicker for me was that it was fifteen hours away from the hell I grew up in. No longer was I Essie from Hung Island, Georgia—and who in their right mind would name an island Hung—I was Agent Essie McGee of the Chicago WTF. The irony of the initials was a source of pain to most Werewolves, but went right over the Council’s heads due to the simple fact that they were older than dirt and oblivious to pop culture.

Yes, I’d been disciplined occasionally for mouthing off to superiors and using the company credit card for shoes, but other than that I was a damn good agent. I'd graduated at the top of my class and was the go-to girl for messy and dangerous assignments that no one in their right mind would take... I’d singlehandedly brought down three rogue Weres who were selling secrets to the Dragons—another supernatural species. The Dragons shunned the Council, had their own little club and a psychotic desire to rule the world. Several times they’d come close due to the fact that they were loaded and Weres from the New Jersey Pack were easily bribed. Not to mention the fire-breathing thing…

I was an independent woman living in the Windy City. I had a gym membership, season tickets to the Cubs and a gay Vampyre best friend named Dwayne. What more did a girl need?

Well, possibly sex, but the bastard had ruined me for other men…

Hank “The Tank” Wilson was the main reason I’d rather chew my own paw off than go back to Hung Island, Georgia. Six foot three of obnoxious, egotistical, perfect-assed, alpha male Werewolf. As the alpha of my local Pack he had decided it was high time I got mated…to him. I, on the other hand, had plans—big ones and they didn’t include being barefoot and pregnant at the beck and call of a player.

So I did what any sane, rational woman would do. I left in the middle of the night with a suitcase, a flyer from the hot recruiter and enough money for a one-way bus ticket to freedom. Of course, nothing ever turns out as planned… The apartment was the size of a shoe box, the car was used and smelled like French fries and the benefits didn’t kick in till I turned one hundred and twenty five. We Werewolves had long lives.

“Angela, you really can’t do this to me.” Should I get down on my knees? I was so desperate I wasn’t above begging.

“Why? What happened there, Essie? Were you in some kind of trouble I should know about?” Her eyes narrowed, but she wasn’t yelling.

I think she liked me…kind of. The way a mother would like an annoying spastic two year old who belonged to someone else.

“No, not exactly,” I hedged. “It’s just that…”

“Weres are disappearing and presumed dead. Considering no one knows of our existence besides other supernaturals, we have a problem. Furthermore, it seems like humans might be involved.”

My stomach lurched and I grabbed Angela’s office chair for balance. “Locals are missing?” I choked out. My grandma Bobby Sue was still there, but I’d heard from her last night. She’d harangued me about getting my belly button pierced. Why I’d put that on Instagram was beyond me. I was gonna hear about that one for the next eighty years or so.

“Not just missing—more than likely dead. Check the folder,” Angela said and poured me a shot of whiskey.

With trembling hands I opened the folder. This had to be a joke. I felt ill. I’d gone to high school with Frankie Mac and Jenny Packer. Jenny was as cute as a button and was the cashier at the Piggly Wiggly. Frankie Mac had been the head cheerleader and cheated on every test since the fourth grade. Oh my god, Debbie Swink? Debbie Swink had been voted most likely to succeed and could do a double backwards flip off the high dive. She’d busted her head open countless times before she’d perfected it. Her mom was sure she’d go to the Olympics.

“I know these girls,” I whispered.

“Knew. You knew them. They all were taking classes at the modeling agency.”

“What modeling agency? There’s no modeling agency on Hung Island.” I sifted through the rest of the folder with a knot the size of a cantaloupe in my stomach. More names and faces I recognized. Sandy Moongie? Wait a minute.

“Um, not to speak ill of the dead, but Sandy Moongie was the size of a barn…she was modeling?”

“Worked the reception desk.” Angela shook her head and dropped down on the couch.

“This doesn’t seem that complicated. It’s fairly black and white. Whoever is running the modeling agency is the perp.”

“The modeling agency is Council sponsored.”

I digested that nugget in silence for a moment.

“And the Council is running a modeling agency, why?”

“Word is that we’re heading toward revealing ourselves to the humans and they’re trying to find the most attractive representatives to do so.”

“That’s a joke, right?” What kind of dumb ass plan was that?

“I wish it was.” Angela picked up my drink and downed it. “I’m getting too old for this shit,” she muttered as she refilled the shot glass, thought better of it and just swigged from the bottle.

“Is the Council aware that I’m going in?”

“What do you think?”

“I think they’re old and stupid and that they send in dispensable agents like me to clean up their shitshows,” I grumbled.

“Smart girl.”

“Who else knows about this? Clark? Jones?”

“They know,” she said wearily. “They’re checking out agencies in New York and Miami.”

“Isn’t it conflict of interest to send me where I know everyone?”

“It is, but you’ll be able to infiltrate and get in faster that way. Besides, no one has disappeared from the other agencies yet.”

There was one piece I still didn’t understand. “How are humans involved?”

She sighed and her head dropped back onto her broad shoulders. “Humans are running the agency.”

It took a lot to render me silent, like learning my grandma had been a stripper in her youth, and that all male Werewolves were hung like horses… but this was horrific.

“Who in the hell thought that was a good idea? My god, half the female Weres I know sprout tails when flash bulbs go off. We won’t have to come out, they can just run billboards of hot girls with hairy appendages coming out of their asses.”

“It’s all part of the Grand Plan. If the humans see how wonderful and attractive we are, the issue of knowingly living alongside of us will be moot.”

Again. Speechless.

“When are Council elections?” It was time to vote some of those turd knockers out.

“Essie.” Angela rolled her eyes and took another swig. “There are no elections. They’re appointed and serve for life.”

“I knew that,” I mumbled. Skipping Were History class was coming back to bite me in the butt.

“I’ll go.” There was no way I couldn’t. Even though my knowledge of the hierarchy of my race was fuzzy, my skills were top notch and trouble seemed to find me. In any other job that would suck, but in mine, it was an asset.

“Good. You’ll be working with the local Pack alpha. He’s also the sheriff there. Name’s Hank Wilson. You know him?”

“Yep.” Biblically. I knew the son of a bitch biblically.

***

“You’re gonna bang him.”

“I am not gonna bang him.”

“You are so gonna bang him.”

“Dwayne, if I hear you say that I’m gonna bang him one more time, I will not let you borrow my black Mary Jane pumps. Ever again.”

Dwayne made the international “zip the lip and throw away the key” sign while silently mouthing that I was going to bang Hank.

“I think you should bang him if he’s a hot as you said.” Dwayne made himself comfortable on my couch and turned on the TV.

“When did I ever say he was hot?” I demanded as I took the remote out of his hands. I was not watching any more Dance Moms. “I never said he was hot.”

“Paaaaleese,” Dwayne flicked his pale hand over his shoulder and rolled his eyes.

“What was that?”

“What was what?” he asked, confused.

“That shoulder thing you just did.”

“Oh, I was flicking my hair over my shoulder in a girlfriend move.”

“Okay, don’t do that. It doesn’t work. You’re as bald as a cue ball.”

“But it’s the new move,” he whined.

Oh my god, Vampyres were such high maintenance. “According to who?” I yanked my suitcase out from under my bed and started throwing stuff in.

“Kim Kardashian.”

I refused to dignify that with so much as a look.

“Fine,” he huffed. “But if you say one word about my skinny jeans I am so out of here.”

I considered it, but I knew he was serious. As crazy as he drove me, I adored him. He was my only real friend in Chicago and I had no intention of losing him.

“I know he’s hot,” Dwayne said. “Look at you—you’re so gorge it’s redonkulous. You’re all legs and boobs and hair and lips—you’re far too beautiful to be hung up on a goober.”

“Are you calling me shallow?” I snapped as I ransacked my tiny apartment for clean clothes. Damn it, tomorrow was laundry day. I was going to have to pack dirty clothes.

“So he’s ugly and puny and wears bikini panties?”

“No! He’s hotter than Satan’s underpants and he wears boxer briefs,” I shouted. “You happy?”

“He’s actually a nice guy.”

“You’ve met Hank?” I was so confused I was this close to making fun of his skinny jeans just so he would leave.

“Satan. He’s not as bad as everyone thinks.”

How was it that everyone I came in contact with today stole my ability to speak? Thankfully, I was interrupted by a knock at my door.

“You expecting someone?” Dwayne asked as he pilfered the remote back and found Dance Moms.

“No.”

I peeked through the peephole. Nobody came to my place except Dwayne and the occasional pizza delivery guy or Chinese food take out guy or Indian food take out guy. Wait. What the hell was my boss doing here?

“Angela?”

“You going to let me in?”

“Depends.”

“Open the damn door.”

I did.

Angela tromped into my shoebox and made herself at home. Her hair was truly spectacular. It looked like she might have even pulled out a clump on the left side. “You want to tell me why the sheriff and alpha of Hung Island, Georgia says he won’t work with you?”

“Um…no?”

“He said he had a hard time believing someone as flaky and irresponsible as you had become an agent for the Council and he wants someone else.” Angela narrowed her eyes at me and took the remote form Dwayne. “Spill it, Essie.”

I figured the best way to handle this was to lie—hugely. However, gay Vampyre boyfriends had a way of interrupting and screwing up all your plans.

“Well, you see…”

“He’s her mate and he dipped his stick in several other…actually many other oil tanks. So she dumped his furry player ass, snuck away in the middle of the night and hadn’t really planned on ever going back there again.” Dwayne sucked in a huge breath, which was ridiculous because Vampyres didn’t breathe.

It took everything I had not to scream and go all Wolfy. “Dwayne, clearly you want me to go medieval on your lily white ass because I can’t imagine why you would utter such bullshit to my boss.”

“Doesn’t sound like bullshit to me,” Angela said as she channel surfed and landed happily on an old episode of Cagney and Lacey. “We might have a problem here.”

“Are you replacing me?” Hank Wilson had screwed me over once when I was his. He was not going to do it again when I wasn’t.

“Your call,” she said. Dwayne, who was an outstanding shoplifter, covertly took back the remote and flipped over to the Food Channel. Angela glanced up at the tube and gave Dwayne the evil eye.

“I refuse to watch lesbians fight crime in the eighties. I’ll get hives,” he explained, tilted his head to the right and gave Angela a smile. He was so pretty it was silly—piercing blue eyes and body to die for. Even my boss had a hard time resisting his charm.

“Fine,” she grumbled.

“Excuse me,” I yelled. “This conversation is about me, not testosterone ridden women cops with bad hair, hives or food. It’s my life we’re talking about here—me, me, me!” My voice had risen to decibels meant to attract stray animals within a ten-mile radius, evidenced by the wincing and ear covering.

“Essie, are you done?” Dwayne asked fearfully.

“Possibly. What did you tell him?” I asked Angela.

“I told him the Council has the last word in all matters. Always. And if he had a problem with it, he could take it up with the elders next month when they stay awake long enough to listen to the petitions of their people.”

“Oh my god, that’s awesome,” I squealed. “What did he say?”

“That if we send you down, he’ll give you bus money so you can hightail your sorry cowardly butt right back out of town.”

Was she grinning at me, and was that little shit Dwayne jotting the conversation down in the notes section on his phone?

“Let me tell you something,” I ground out between clenched teeth as I confiscated Dwayne’s phone and pocketed it. “I am going to Hung Island, Georgia tomorrow and I will kick his ass. I will find the killer first and then I will castrate the alpha of the Georgia Pack…with a dull butter knife.”

Angela laughed and Dwayne jackknifed over on the couch in a visceral reaction to my plan. I stomped into my bathroom and slammed the door to make my point, then pressed my ear to the rickety wood to hear them talk behind my back.

“I’ll bet you five hundred dollars she’s gonna bang him,” Dwayne told Angela.

“I’ll bet you a thousand that you’re right,” she shot back.

“You’re on.”

## Want more information about Ready To Were? Click Here! ##

Excerpt: SWITCHING HOUR

Book Description

Released from the magic pokey and paroled with limited power is enough to make any witch grumpy. However, if you throw in a recently resurrected cat, a lime-green Kia and a sexy egotistical werewolf, it's enough to make a gal fly off the edge.

Not to mention a mission...with no freaking directions.

So here I sit in Asscrack, West Virginia trying to figure out how to complete my mysterious mission before All Hallows Eve when I’ll get turned into a mortal. The animals in the area are convinced I'm the Shifter Whisperer (whatever the hell that is) and the hotter-than- asphalt-in-August werewolf thinks I'm his mate. Now apparently I'm slated to save a bunch of hairy freaks of nature?

If they think I'm the right witch for the job, they've swallowed some bad brew.

Chapter 1

"If you say or do anything that keeps my ass in the magic pokey, I will zap you bald and give you a cold sore that makes you look like you were born with three lips."

I tried to snatch the scissors from my cell mate's hand, but I might as well have been trying to catch a greased cat.

"Look at my hair," she hissed, holding up her bangs. "They're touching my nose—my fucking nose, Zelda. I can't be seen like this when I get out. I swear I'll just do it a little."

"Sandy…" I started.

"It's Sassy," she hissed.

I backed up in case she felt the need to punctuate her correction with a left hook. You can pick your friends, your nose and your bust size, but you can't pick your cell mate in the big house.

"Right. Sorry. Sassy, you have never done anything just a little. What happened the last time you cut your own bangs? Your rap sheet indicates bang cutting is somewhat unhealthy for you."

She winced and mumbled her shame into her collarbone. "That was years ago. Nobody died and that town was a dump to start with."

"Fine." I shrugged. "Cut your bangs. What do I care if you look like a dorkus? We're out of here in an hour. After today we'll never see each other again anyway."

"You know what, Miss High and Mighty?" she shouted, brandishing the shears entirely too close to my head for comfort. "You're in here for murder."

That stopped me dead in my pursuit of saving her from herself. What the hell did I care? Let her cut her bangs up to her hairline and suffer the humiliation of looking five. Maybe I wasn’t completely innocent here, but I was no murderer. It was a fucking accident.

"You listen to me, Susie, I didn't murder anyone," I snapped.

"Sassy."

"Whatever." She was giving me a migraine. Swoozie's selective memory was messing with my need to protect her ass. "Oh my Goddess," I yelled. "I didn't sleep with Baba Yaga's boyfriend—you did."

"First of all, we didn't sleep. And how in the hell was I supposed to know Mr. Sexy Pants was her boyfriend?"

"Um, well, let me see… did the fact that he was wearing a Property of Baba Yaga t-shirt not ring any fucking bells?"

I was so done. I'd been stuck in a cell with Sassy the Destructive Witch for nine months—sawing my own head off with a butter knife had become a plausible option. I was beyond ready to get the hell out.

"Well, it’s not like the Council put you in here just to keep me company. You ran over your own familiar. On purpose," she accused.

I watched in horror as she combed her bangs forward in preparation for blast off and willed myself not to give a rat’s ass.

"I did not run over that mangy bastard cat on purpose. The little shit stepped under my wheel."

"Three times?" she inquired politely.

"Yes."

We glared at each other until we were both biting back grins so hard it hurt. As much as I didn't like her, I was grateful to have had a roomie. It would have sucked to serve time alone. And coming up with different female names that started with the letter S had helped pass the time.

"I really need a mirror to do this right," Sassy muttered. She mimed the cutting action by lining up her fingers up on her hair before she commenced.

I walked to the iron bars of our cell and refused to watch. Our tiny living quarters were barren of all modern conveniences, especially those we could perform magic with, like mirrors. We were locked up in Salem, Massachusetts in a hotel from the early 1900s that had been converted to a jail for witches. Our home away from home was cell block D, designated for witches who abused their magic as easily as they changed their underwear.

From the outside the decrepit building was glamoured to look like a charming bed and breakfast, complete with climbing ivy and flowers growing out of every conceivable nook and cranny. Inside it was cold and ugly with barren brick walls covered with Goddess knew what kind of slime. It was warded heavily with magic, keeping all mortals and responsible magic-makers away. At the moment the lovely Sassy and I were the only two inhabitants in the charming hell-hole. Well, us and the humor-free staff of older than dirt witches and warlocks.

I dropped onto my cot and ran my hands through my mass of uncontrollable auburn curls which looked horrid with the orange prison wear. I puckered my full—and sadly lipstick-free-lips as I tried to image myself in the latest Prada. The first damn thing I was going to do when I got out was burn the jumpsuit and buy out Neiman’s.

"Fine. We're both here because we messed up, but I still think nine months was harsh for killing a revolting cat and screwing an idiot," I muttered as the ugly reality of my outfit mocked me.

I held my breath and then blew it out as Sassy put the scissors down and changed her mind.

"I can’t do this right now. I really need a mirror."

It was the most sane thing she'd uttered in nine months.

"In an hour you'll have one unless you do something stupid," I told her and then froze.

Without warning the magic level ramped up drastically and the stench of centuries-old voodoo drifted to my nose. Sassy latched onto me for purchase and shuddered with terror.

"Do you smell it?" I whispered. I knew her grip would leave marks, but right now that was the least of my problems.

"I do," she murmured back.

"Old lady crouch."

"What?" Her eyes grew wide and she bit down on her lip. Hard. "If you make me laugh, I'll smite your sorry ass when we get out. What the hell is old lady crouch?"

My own grin threatened to split my face. My fear of incarceration was clearly outweighed by my need to make crazy Sassy laugh again. "You know—the smell when you go to the bathroom at the country club...powdery old lady crouch."

"Oh my hell, Zelda." She guffawed and lovingly punched me so hard I knew it would leave a bruise. "I won't be able to let that one go."

"Only a lobotomy can erase it." I was proud of myself.

"Well, well, well," a nasally voice cooed from beyond the bars of our cell. "If it isn't the pretty-pretty problem children."

Baba Yaga had to be at least three hundred if she was a day, but witches aged slowly—so she really only looked thirty-fiveish. The more powerful the witch, the slower said witch aged. Baba was powerful, beautiful and had appalling taste in clothes. Dressed right out of the movie Flash Dance complete with the ripped sweatshirt, leggings and headband. It was all I could do not to alert the fashion police.

She was surrounded by the rest of her spooky posse, an angry bunch of warlocks who were clearly annoyed to be in attendance.

"Baba Yaga," Sassy said as respectfully as she could without making eye contact.

"Your Crouchness," I muttered and received a quick elbow to the gut from my cellmate.

Baba Yaga leaned against the cell bars, and her torn at the shoulder sweatshirt dripped over her creamy shoulder. "Zelda and Sassy, you have served your term. Upon release you will have limited magic."

I gasped and Sassy paled. WTF? We'd done our time. Limited magic? What did that mean?

"Fuck," I stuttered.

"But… um… Ms. Yaga, that's not fair," Sassy added more eloquently than I had. "We paid our dues. I had to withstand Zelda's company for nine months. I believe that is cruel and unusual punishment."

"Oh my hell," I shouted. "You have got to be kidding me. I fantasized chewing glass, swallowing it and then super gluing my ears shut so I would have to listen to anymore play by plays of Full House episodes."

"Full House is brilliant and Bob Saget is hot," she grumbled as her face turned red.

"Enough," Baba Yaga hissed as she waved a freshly painted nail at us in admonishment. "You two are on probation, and during that probation you will be strictly forbidden to see each other until you have completed your tasks."

"Not a problem. I don't want to lay eyes on Sujata ever again," I said.

"It's Sassy," she ground out. "And what in the Goddess' name do you mean by tasks?"

Baba Yaga smiled—it was not a nice smile.

"Tasks. Selfless tasks. And before you two get all uppity with that 'I can't believe you're being so harsh' drivel, keep in mind that this is a light sentence. Most of the Council wanted you imbeciles stripped of your magic permanently."

That was news. What on earth had I done that would merit that? I conjured up fun things. Sure, they were things I used to my advantage, like shoes and sunny vacations with fruity drinks sporting festive umbrellas in them, served to me on a tropical beach by guys with fine asses...but it wasn't like I took anything from anyone in the process.

"I'm not real clear here," I said warily.

"Oh, I can help with that," Baba Yaga offered kindly. "You, Zelda—how many pairs of Jimmy Choo shoes do you own?"

I mentally counted in my head—kind of. "Um… three?"

Baba Yaga frowned and bright green sparks flew around her head. "Seventy-five and you paid for none of them. Not to mention your wardrobe and cars and the embarrassingly expensive vacations you have taken for free."

When her eyes narrowed dangerously, I swallowed my retort. Plus, I had eighty pairs...

"And you, Sassy, you've used your magic to seduce men and have incurred millions in damages from your temper tantrums. Six buildings and a town. Not to mention your indiscretion with my former lover. If I hadn't already been done with him you'd be in solitary confinement for eternity. Can you not see how I had to fight for you?" she demanded, her beautiful eyes fiery.

"Well, when you put it that way," I mumbled.

"There is no other way to put it," she snapped as her mystical lynch mob nodded like the bobble-headed freaks that they were. "Zelda, you have used your magic for self-serving purposes and Sassy, you have a temper that when combined with your magic could be deadly. We are White Witches. We use magic to heal and to make Mother Earth a better place, not to walk the runway and take down cities."

"So what do we have to do?" Sassy asked with a tremor in her voice. She was freaked.

Baba Yaga winked and my stomach dropped to my toes. "There are two envelopes with your tasks in them. You will not share the contents with each other. If you do, you will render yourselves powerless. Forever. You have till midnight on All Hallows Eve to complete your assignments and then you will come under review with the Council."

"And if we are unable to fulfill our duty?" I asked, wanting to get all the facts up front.

"You will become mortal."

Shit. My stomach dropped to my toes and I debated between hurling and getting on my knees and begging for mercy. Neither would have done a bit of good...There was no way in hell I could make it in this world as a mortal—I didn't even know how to use a microwave.

And on that alarming and potentially life ending note, Baba Yaga and her entourage disappeared in a cloud of old lady crouch smoke.

"Well, that's fucking craptastic," I said as I warily sniffed my envelope—the one that had appeared out of thin air and landed right between my fingertips.

"You took the words right out of my mouth," Sassy replied as she examined hers.

She tossed her envelope on her cot as though she were afraid to touch it and turned her back on it. I simply shoved mine in the pocket of my heinous orange jumpsuit.

"So that's it? We just do whatever the contents of the envelope tell us to do?" Sassy whined. "Okay, so we're a little self-absorbed, but I do use my magic to heal. Remember when I kind of accidentally punched the guard in the face? I totally healed his nose."

I laughed and rolled my eyes. "He was bleeding all over your one and only pokey jumpsuit."

"Immaterial. I healed him, didn't I?" she insisted.

"And then I zapped your skanky jumpsuit clean," I added, not to be outdone by her list of somewhat dubious selfless acts. "However, I get the feeling that's not the kind of healing magic Baba Yasshole means." I sat down on my own cot, still stunned by our sentence from the Council.

"You know what? Screw Baba Ganoush!" Sassy grunted as she grabbed her envelope and waved it in the air. I sighed and put my hand on her arm to prevent her from doing any damage to her task.

"Yomamma. It's Baba Yomamma, Sassy. And seriously—what choice do we have at this point except to do what she says? You don't want to stay in here, do you? I say we yank up our big girl panties and get this shit done. Deal?"

I stunned myself and Sassy with my responsible reasoning ability.

She made a face but nodded. "Baba Wha-Wha said we couldn't share the contents of our envelopes. There's no way in hell we can open these together and not share."

"Correct. Baba Yosuckmybutt is hateful."

"You want to get turned into a mortal?"

I shuddered. "Fuck no. So now what?" I asked as I played with the offending envelope in my pocket.

"See you on the flip side?" Sassy held up her fist for a bump.

I bumped. "Probably not. While it's been nice in the way a root canal or a canker sore is nice I think it's time for us to part ways."

Sassy grinned and shrugged and I answered with my own.

"So we walk out of here on three?" she asked.

"Yes, we do."

We both took a deep breath. "One, two, three…"

The door of our cell popped open the moment we approached it, clanging and creaking.

We exchanged one last smile before Sassy hung a left and headed down the winding cement path that led to freedom. She made her way down the dimly lit hallway until she was nothing but a small, curvy dot on the horizon.

I clutched the envelope in my pocket with determination and sucked in a huge breath.

And then I hung a right.

Chapter 2

Dearest Zelda,

Apparently your Aunt Hildy died. Violently. You have inherited her home. Go there and make me proud that I didn't strip you of your magic. You will know what to do when you get there.

If you ever use the term “old lady crouch” again while referring to me I will remove your tongue.

xoxo Baba Yaga

P.S. The address is on the back of the note and there is a car for you parked in the garage under the hotel. It's the green one. The purple one is mine. If you even look at it I will put all of your shoes up for sale on eBay. And yes, I am well aware you have eighty pairs.

"Motherhumper, what a bee-otch—put my shoes up for sale, my ass. And who in the hell is Aunt Hildy? I don't have a freakin' aunt named Hildy. Died violently? What exactly does ‘died violently’ mean?" I muttered to no one as I reread the ridiculous note. Goddess, I wondered what Sassy's note said, but we had gone our separate ways about an hour ago.

My mother was an only child and I hadn't seen her in years—so no Aunt Hildy on that side. My mom, and I use the term loosely, was an insanely powerful witch who had met some uber-hot, super weird Vampire ten years ago and they'd gone off to live in a remote castle in Transylvania. The end.

And my father...his identity was anyone's guess. In her day my mother had been a very popular and active witch. I suppose Baba I Know Freakin’ Everything Yaga knew who my elusive daddy was and Hildy must be his sister.

Awesome.

I hustled my ass to the garage and gasped in dismay. In the far corner of the dank, dark, musty-smelling garage sat a car… a green car. A lime green car. Even better, it was a lime green Kia. Was Baba YoMamma fucking joking? Why did I have to drive anywhere? I was a witch. I could use magic to get wherever I wanted to go.

Crap.

Did I even have enough magic to transport? Could I end up wedged in a time warp and stuck for eternity?

And what, pray tell, was this? A Porsche? Baba Yoyeastinfection drove a Porsche… of course she did.

I eyed the purple Porsche with envy and for a brief moment considered keying it. The look on Boobie Yoogie's face would be worth it. Another couple of years in the magic pokey plus having to watch my fancy footwear be auctioned off on eBay was enough to curb my impulse. However, I did lick my finger and smear it on the driver's side mirror. I was told not to look at it. The cryptic note mentioned nothing about touching it.

Glancing down at my orange jumpsuit I cringed. Did they really expect me to wear this? What the hell had become of me? I was a thirty-year-old paroled witch in orange prison wear and tennis shoes. My fingers ached to clothe myself in something cute and sexy. Did I dare? How would they even know?

Wait… she knew I called her old lady crouch. She would certainly know if I magicked up some designer duds. Shitballs. Orange outfit and red hair it was.

Thankfully the car had a GPS, not that I knew how to work anything electronic. I was a witch, for god's sake. I normally flicked my fingers, chanted a spell or wiggled my nose. The address of my inheritance was in West Virginia. How freakin' far was West Virginia from Salem, Massachusetts?

Apparently eleven hours and twenty-one minutes.

It took me exactly forty-five minutes of swearing and punching the dashboard to figure that little nugget out. Bitchy Yicky was officially my least favorite person in the world. However, I was a little proud to have made the damn GPS work without using magic or blowing the car up.

***

Five hours into the trip I was itchy, bloated and had a massive stomachache. Beef jerky and Milk Duds were not my friend. Top that off with a corn dog and two sixty-four ounce caffeinated sodas and I was a clusterfuck waiting to happen.

Thank the Goddess New England was gorgeous in the fall. The colors were breathtaking, but they did little to calm my indigestion. The Kia had no radio reception, but luckily it did come with a country compilation CD that was stuck in the CD player. I was going deaf from the heartfelt warblings about pickup trucks, back roads and barefoot rednecks.

Pretending to be mortal sucked. Six more hours and twenty-one minutes to go—shit. Sadly I found myself longing for even the hideous company of Sassy. Being alone was getting old.

"I can do this. I have to do this. I will do this," I shouted at the alarmed driver of a minivan while stopped at a traffic light in Bumfuck, Idon'tknowwhere.

"I'm baaaaaaack," something hissed from behind me.

"What the fu… ?" I shrieked and jerked the wheel to the right, avoiding a bus stop and landing the piece of crap car in a shallow ditch. "Who said that?"

"I diiiiiiiid," the ominous voice whispered. "Have yooooooou misssssssed me?"

"Um, sure," I mumbled as I quietly removed my seatbelt and prepared to dive out of the car. Maybe I could catch a lift with the woman I'd terrified in the minivan. "I've missed you a ton."

"You look like shiiiiiiit in ooooorrrrangeeeee," it informed me.

That stopped me. Whatever monster or demon was in the backseat had just gone one step too far.

Scare me? Fine.

Insult me? Fry.

"Excuse me?" I snapped and whipped around to smite the fucker. Where was he? Was he invisible? "Show yourself."

"Down heeeeere on the floooooor," the thing said.

Peering over the seat, I gagged and threw up in my mouth just a little. This could not be happening. I pinched myself hard and yelped from the pain. It was happening and it was probably going to get ugly in about twelve seconds.

"Um, hi Fabio, long time no see," I choked out, wondering if I made a run for it if he would follow and kill me. Or at the very least, would he get behind the wheel of the Kia and run me over… three times. "You're looking kind of alive."

"Thank youuuuuuuu," he said as he hopped over the seat and landed with a squishy thud entirely too close to me.

I plastered myself against the door and debated my next move. Fabio looked bad. He still resembled a cat, but he was kind of flat in the middle, his head was an odd shape and his tail cranked to the left. Most of his black fur still covered him except for a large patch on his face, which made him resemble a pinkish troll. He didn't seem too angry, but I did kill him. To be fair, I didn't mean to. I didn't know he was under the wheel and I kind of freaked and hit reverse and drive several times before I got out and screamed bloody murder.

"So what are you doing here?" I inquired casually, careful not to make eye contact.

"Not exxxxxxactly sure." He shook his little black semi-furred head and an ear fell off.

"Oh shit," I muttered and flicked it to the floor before he noticed. "I'm really sorry about killing you."

"No worrrrrrries. I quite enjoyed being buried in a Prrrrraaada shoeeee box."

"I thought that was a nice touch," I agreed. "Did you notice I left the shoe bags in there as a blanket and pillow?"

"Yesssssssssssss. Very comfortable." He nodded and gave me a grin that made my stomach lurch.

"Alrighty then, the question of the hour is are you still dead… or um…"

"I thiiiink I'm aliiiiive. As soon as I realliiiized I was breathing I loooooked for you."

"Wow." I was usually more eloquent, but nothing else came to mind.

"I have miiiiiiiisssed you, Zeeeeldaaaa."

Great, now I felt horrible. I killed him and he rose from the dead to find me because he missed me. I should take him in my arms and cuddle him, but I feared all the jerky and Duds would fly from my mouth if I tried. He deserved far better than me.

"Look, Fabio… I was a shitty witch for you. You should find a witch that will treat you right."

"But I looooooovvve you," he said quietly. His little one-eared head drooped and he began to sniffle pathetically.

"You shouldn't love me," I reasoned. "I'm selfish and I killed you—albeit accidentally—and I'm wearing orange."

"I can fix that," he offered meekly. "Would that make you loooooooove meeeee?"

I felt nauseous and it wasn't from all the crap I'd shoved in my mouth while driving to meet my destiny. The little disgusting piece of fur had feelings for me. Feelings I didn't even come close to deserving or returning. And now to make matters worse, he was offering to magic me some clothes. If I said yes, it was a win-win. I'd get new clothes and he'd think I loved him. Asshats on fire, what in the hell was love anyway?

"Um...I would seem kind of shallow if I traded my love for clothes," I mumbled as I bit down on the inside of my cheek to keep from declaring my worthless love in exchange for non-orange attire.

"Well, youuuuuu are somewhat superficial, but that's not alllllllll your fault," Fabio said as he squished a little closer and placed the furry side of his head in my lap.

"Thank you, I think."

A compliment was a compliment, no matter how insulting.

"You're most welcome," he purred. "How would you know what loooooove is? Your mother was a hooooooker and your poor father was in the darrrrrk about your existence most of your liiiiiiiife."

"My mother was loose," I admitted, "but she did the best she could. However, my father, whoever the motherfuck he is, just took off after he knocked up my mom. And P.S.—I'm the only one allowed to call my mom a hooker. As nice as the fable was you told me about my dad… it's bullshit."

"Noooooooo, actually it's not," Fabio said as he lifted his piercing green eyes to mine.

"Do you know the bastard?" I demanded, noticing for the first time how our eyes matched. That wasn't uncommon. Most familiars took on the traits of their witches, but I wished he hadn't taken on mine. It would make it much harder to pawn the thing off on someone else if he looked too much like me.

"I knoooooow of him."

"So where the hell is he if he knows about me now?" My eyes narrowed dangerously and blue sparks began to cover my arms.

Fabio quickly backed away in fear of getting crispy. "Asssssssssss the story goes, a spell was cast on him by your moooooother when he learned of your existence. From what I've heard he's been trying to break the spellllllllll by doing penance."

I rolled my eyes and laughed. "How's that working out for the assmonkey?"

"Apparently not veeeeeeery well if he hasn't shown himself yet."

I considered Fabio's fairytale and wished for a brief moment it was true. Maybe my father didn't know about me. I always thought he didn't want me. That's what my mom had said. Of course she was certifiable and I'd left her house the moment I'd turned eighteen. I did love her but only in the same way a dog still loves the owner who kicks it.

Fabio's story was utter crap, but it was sweet that he cared. Other than Baba Yopaininmyass, not many did.

"Where did you learn all that fiction?" I asked as I eased the lime green piece of dog poo back onto the road before the police showed up and mistook me for an escaped convict.

"Yourrrrrrrr file," he answered as he dug his claws into the strap of the seat belt and pulled it across his mangled body. "Evvvvvvery familiar gets a file on their witch."

"Here, let me," I said as I pulled the strap and clicked it into the lock. "Was there anything else interesting in my file?"

The damn cat knew more about me than I did.

"Nothing I caaaaaan share."

I pursed my lips so I wouldn't swear at him—hard but doable. I wanted info and I knew how to get it. "What if I reattached your ear? Would you tell me one thing you're not supposed to?" I bargained.

"I'mmmmm missssssssing an ear?" he shrieked, aghast.

"Yep, I flicked it under the seat so you wouldn't flip out."

His breathing became erratic. I worried he would heave a hairball or something worse. "Yesssssss, reattach it, please."

I opened my senses, and let whatever magic Baba Yasshole had let me keep flow through me. Light purple healing flames covered my arms, neck and face. Fabio's ear floated up from under the passenger seat and drifted to his head. As it connected back, I had a thought. It was selfish… and not.

"Hey Fab, do you mind if I fill in the fur on your face?" It would be so much easier to look at the little bastard if I didn't see raw cat skin.

"Ohhhhhhhhhh my, I'm missing fur?" He was positively despondent. Clearly he hadn't looked in a mirror since his resurrection.

"Um, it's just a little," I lied. "I can fix it up in a jiff."

"Thhhhhhank you, that would be loooovely."

The magic swirled through me. It felt so good. The pokey had blocked me from using magic and I'd missed it terribly. The silky warm purple mist skimmed over Fabio's body and the hair reappeared. Without his permission I unflattened his midsection, reshaped his head and uncranked his tail. It was the least I could do since I'd caused it in the first place.

"There. All better," I told him and glanced over to admire my handiwork. He looked a lot less mangled. He was still a bit mangy, but that was how he'd always been. At least he no longer looked like living road kill. "Your turn."

"Your Aunt Hildy was your father's sissssssster and she wasssss freakin' crazy," he hissed with disgust.

"You knew her?"

"Ahh no, but sheeeeeee was legendary," he explained.

"Why the hell did she leave me her house?" I asked, hoping for some more info. I'd already assumed she was my deadbeat dad's sister. I wanted something new.

"I suppose you will take ooooover for her," Fabio informed me as he lifted and extended his leg so he could lick his balls.

"Get your mouth off your crotch while we're having a conversation," I snapped.

"Youuuuu would do it if youuuuuu could," he said.

"Probably," I muttered as I zoomed past six cars driving too slow for my mood. "But since I can't, you're not allowed to either."

"Can I dooooooo it in private?" he asked.

"Um, sure. Now tell me what crazy old Aunt Hildy did for a living so I know what I'm getting into here."

"No clue," Fabio said far too quickly.

"You know, I could run your feline ass over again," I threatened.

"Yeeeeeep, but I have six lives left."

I put my attention back on the road. "Great. That's just great."

## Want more information about Switching Hour? Click Here! ##

Book Lists (in correct reading order)

HOT DAMNED SERIES

Fashionably Dead

Fashionably Dead Down Under

Hell on Heels

Fashionably Dead in Diapers

A Fashionably Dead Christmas

Fashionably Hotter Than Hell

Fashionably Dead and Wed

SHIFT HAPPENS SERIES

Ready to Were

Some Were in Time

No Were To Run

MAGIC AND MAYHEM SERIES

Switching Hour

Witch Glitch

A Witch in Time

HANDCUFFS AND HAPPILY EVER AFTERS SERIES

How Hard Can it Be?

Size Matters

Cop a Feel

If after reading all the above you are still wanting more adventure and zany fun, read Pirate Dave and His Randy Adventures, the romance novel budding novelist Rena was helping wicked Evangeline write in How Hard Can It Be?

Warning: Pirate Dave Contains Romance Satire, Spoofing, and Pirates with Two Pork Swords.

About Robyn Peterman

Robyn Peterman writes because the people inside her head won’t leave her alone until she gives them life on paper.

Her addictions include laughing really hard with friends, shoes (the expensive kind), Target, Coke Zero Cherry with extra ice in a Styrofoam cup, bejeweled reading glasses, her kids, her super-hot hubby and collecting stray animals.

A former professional actress with Broadway, film and T.V. credits, she now lives in the South with her family and too many animals to count.

Writing gives her peace and makes her whole, plus having a job where you can work in your underpants works really well for her. You can leave Robyn a message via the Contact Page and she’ll get back to you as soon as her bizarre life permits! She loves to hear from her fans!

Visit www.robynpeterman.com for more information.