Date: 2020-12-14 08:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Paranormal; Romance; Vampires; Fantasy; Humour
Description: Being an undead princess comes with baggage. And unfortunately, it's not Prada. Getting shredded in the Daily Fang , The Bloody Times , and The National Dhampir is par for the course in the life of a royal Vampyre - especially mine. However, that's nothing compared to the shitshow unfolding in my life. My nightmares are coming true. Satan is throwing fits about changing diapers. The Baby Demons are full of cryptic messages. Martha and Jane have a sphincter obsession. There's a half-naked Demon in my closet with a mouth as foul as mine. On top of all that, we're hosting Demon-hating royal house
Rights: Copyright 2020 Robyn Peterman. All rights reserved.

Fashionably Dead and Loving It

Hot Damned Book 14

Robyn Peterman

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Copyright © 2020 by Robyn Peterman

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

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.

Cover design by Dreams2Media

Edited by Kelli Collins

Contents

Books In The Hot Damned Series

What Others Are Saying

Acknowledgments

Book Blurb

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

Epilogue

Robyn’s Book List

Note From The Author

About Robyn Peterman

Books In The 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

Fashionably Fanged

Fashionably Flawed

A Fashionably Dead Diary

Fashionably Forever After

Fashionably Fabulous

A Fashionable Fiasco

Fashionably Fooled

Fashionably Dead and Loving It

HIT HERE FOR THE WEBSITE PAGE WITH ALL THE BOOKS!

What Others Are Saying

“The Hot Damned Series is 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

Acknowledgments

Writing The Hot Damned Series is like coming home. All of the characters live inside my head and talk constantly. I love all of them, but Astrid is one of my besties. She is actually the first heroine I ever wrote and she means the world to me.

My hope is that you enjoy reading Fashionably Dead and Loving It as much as I loved writing it. Each book I write is like giving birth to another beautiful baby. This baby happens to be naughty and full of delightful and ridiculous fun.

Anyhoo, as always, I write the book, but it takes a whole lot of wonderful people to make the magic happen. I am a lucky girl because I have a lot of wonderful people in my life.

Kelli, you are the BOMB of all editors. So happy you are in my life.

Rebecca, thank you for my beautiful cover. You are fabu!

My Cookie, thank you from the bottom of my heart. You saved me from some embarrassing mistakes. When we meet again, I will kiss your butt for real. LOL

Renee George, thank you. You are the most brilliant critique partner in the world! I don’t know what I would do without you. TMB.

My Magic Wanda, you kick ass on a daily basis. I’d be screwed without you. Thank you.

My beta readers—Wanda, Heather and Susan thank you. I adore you.

And to my readers… thank you. I do this for you.

Steve, Henry and Audrey, thank you. I love you and you make everything worth it.

Dedication

For Astrid.

You are the first heroine I ever wrote. You gave me confidence. I will keep you.

Book Blurb

Fashionably Dead and Loving It

Being an undead Princess comes with baggage. And unfortunately, it’s not Prada.

Getting shredded in the Daily Fang, The Bloody Times and The National Dhampir is par for the course in the life of a royal Vampyre—especially mine. However, that’s nothing compared to the sh%tshow unfolding in my life.

My nightmares are coming true.

Satan is throwing fits about changing diapers.

The Baby Demons are full of cryptic messages.

Martha and Jane have a sphincter obsession.

There’s a half-naked Demon in my closet with a mouth as foul as mine.

On top of all that, we’re hosting Demon-hating royal houseguests.

Oh, and did I mention the Vampyre-eating-Zombies on the west coast?

With Ethan by my side, along with new friends and a few well-hidden enemies, it’s time to adjust my crown, put a few Vampyres in their place, and kick some Zombie butt.

I’m dead.

Life is still good.

I have unconditional love.

And on most days, when I’m not covered in Zombie guts, I’m wildly fashionable.

Fashionably dead, that is, and loving it.

Chapter One

If I had a heartbeat, it would be hammering out of my chest.

I didn’t have a heartbeat.

I was dead—or rather, undead.

And I was terrified.

Why? No clue.

I was stronger and more powerful than everyone gathered. I was the Chosen One. I didn’t ask for the job. I was unwillingly saddled with it. Hell, I didn’t even ask to get turned into a Vampyre. My attempt to quit smoking hadn’t gone quite as planned. It had killed me. Literally. It wasn’t all that bad—I hadn’t smoked since the day I died—it was just a bit unusual as far as methods went. For the most part, being deceased was fabulous. I was mated to Ethan, the love of my undead life, and had an extended family that included Satan, God and Mother Nature.

The biggest gift was my son Samuel. He was the light of my and Ethan’s world.

But the Chosen One title… that came with some hairy fucking baggage.

According to the sacred Vampyre Scrolls, the Chosen One would eventually come along and be a leader amongst the undead. They’d been waiting a long while, considering Vampyres had existed since the dawn of time. The Chosen One would embody impossibility becoming reality. As the story went, she would give birth to a child, which was inconceivable for the undead, and she would be beloved by Angels and Fairies. She could also control Demons. The Chosen One was the light who lived in the dark. The darkness was her Vampyre and Demon heritage, and the light was her blood compatibility with Angels and Fairies.

For better or worse, I checked all the boxes. I was a killing machine with compassion, and I’d blown out a beautiful baby with immeasurable powers. It made me a target for most of the creatures that nightmares were made of.

That part royally sucked.

But right now, reality sucked.

“Do I look okay?” I asked, standing in the wings of the enormous auditorium awaiting my turn.

“You look gorgeous,” Nana assured me with a smile that made me a tiny bit calmer. “As always, my darling.”

I was so freaking relieved Nana was here. She’d been far more of a mother to me than my own mother, and I adored my grandmother with every fiber of my being. Nana was beautiful inside and out.

Peeking out at the assembled crowd, I wrinkled my nose in confusion. Color me surprised that I didn’t recognize a single pompous asshole at the Royal Court Consortium, but there were a lot of uppity Vamps in the world. It did seem a little odd, but I was about to walk out onto the stage, and I didn’t have time to pick apart the particulars.

“Oh dear,” Nana said, wringing her hands. “You’ve forgotten your crown.”

My stomach cramped. “I have a crown?” I asked. “I didn’t even know I had a fucking crown.”

Nana patted my back and sighed. “Astrid, all princesses have crowns. Ethan is the Vampyre Prince of the North American Dominion, and you are his Princess. You should wear your crown at all times.”

“Even when I sleep?” I asked, beginning to sweat. How in the hell was I sweating? I didn’t own bodily functions anymore. It had to be the stress of the bullshit about to unfold.

Nana nodded. “Yes, darling, even when you sleep. Your crown will protect you from the dark evil headed your way.”

“Umm… could you be a little more specific?” I asked, wanting to poof out of the arena and back home.

Poofing posed a problem. I wasn’t sure exactly where I was at the moment. Maybe I was home. However, there was no stage at the Cressida House. There was a Grand Ballroom, but I would’ve recognized that. Of course, a stage could have been built, but I would think I would have heard the construction going on. As a Vampyre, I could hear a damn pin drop a mile away. I definitely would have known if we’d built a massive extension onto our already enormous compound.

“Don’t worry,” Nana said. “You’ll be fine. Just make lots of friends, don’t swear too much and remember to get your homework in on time. You don’t want to fail. It would look dreadful on your transcript.”

“I’m sorry, what?” I asked, wondering if Nana had tossed back a few glasses of wine. She was making no sense. I wasn’t in school. I was about to address a buttload of Vampyres who didn’t like me much.

A few years back, I’d insisted the undead start paying taxes. Most of them had amassed ridiculously large fortunes over the centuries and hadn’t paid one cent toward the human world we lived in. I called bullshit. It hadn’t made me very popular, but it was the right thing to do. I had Ethan’s backing and his father the King’s support as well. Plus, if any undead idiot wanted to take me on, I’d hand them their ass on a silver platter.

Even though all magical species were unknown to humans, it didn’t mean we shouldn’t try to make the freaking world a better place. We lived forever. It was the ethical and honorable way to go. Of course, the law was despised by many of the undead, but I wasn’t running for Miss Congeniality.

“Did you memorize your song?” Nana asked, gently tucking my wild dark hair behind my ears and pinching my cheeks to give me a bit of color.

“Are you shitting me?” I choked out. “I have to sing? No one told me I have to sing. I can’t sing a fucking note.”

“Everyone can sing,” Nana promised.

“They can?” I asked, doubting her wisdom. She’d clearly forgotten that I’d been asked to silently move my lips at the second grade Spring Jubilee because my warbling made the entire class cry.

Nana nodded and handed me a large feathered fan. It was about four feet wide and just as tall. It was embedded with fist-sized, blood-red rubies that matched the streaks in my hair. The fan was surprisingly light for its size.

“Use this, Astrid,” Nana insisted, pushing me out onto the stage. “It will cover your nudity.”

“My WHAT?” I screeched as I tripped out onto the very well-lit stage to gasps and laughter from the thousands in attendance.

Why I had chosen fifteen-inch Prada heels was beyond me. I didn’t even realize Prada made fifteen-inch-high stilettos. They should really stop doing that. The shoes were almost impossible to walk in. While I was a sucker for fashion, I’d apparently chosen my footwear very poorly today.

Not to mention, I’d forgotten about the rest of my outfit.

“Who did I fuck over in a former life for this to be happening?” I hissed as I quickly adjusted the fan to cover my bits that should not be on display.

Glancing around wildly for Ethan, I spotted him in the front row giving me a thumbs up. Why was he in the front row and not up on the stage with me? And why was he wearing sweatpants? It was a formal affair, and my man always wore Armani. I had little room to talk, being naked and all, but Ethan was the dang Prince. Even stranger, Satan was sitting on his lap eating popcorn. They didn’t like each other. Satan was forever pilfering Ethan’s office supplies. They only tolerated each other because of me.

But the most alarming visual was Martha and Jane. The two profane, mostly bald, undead idiots were seated to the left of Ethan wearing the latest Prada haute couture. Considering they usually wore boob tubes and booty shorts, I didn’t know what the hell to think.

“You can do it, Astrid,” Mother Nature shouted, hanging from a giant crystal chandelier about three hundred feet off the ground. “I believe in you, and I baked you a cake!”

While the sentiment was lovely, Mother Nature couldn’t cook to save her life. She was also a certified nut job, and she was naked. Maybe I wasn’t underdressed. Whatever. It was too late to do anything about it. Marching to the ornate throne in the middle of the stage, I seated myself and kept my fan placed strategically in front of me.

The chanting started softly and grew louder. It was horrifying. The stage went from stifling hot to frigid as the yelling reached a fever pitch.

“Sing, sing, sing,” the Vampyres bellowed.

This was a fucking nightmare. I was naked. I was wearing horrible shoes. And even though Nana had said everyone could sing, I knew she was gravely mistaken.

Satan had fallen asleep in Ethan’s arms, and my mate carefully carried my uncle to a massive coffin that appeared from out of nowhere in the audience. The coffin caught fire the moment the Devil’s body was placed in it. Under normal circumstances, that would alarm me, but Uncle Fucker adored the flames. He slept right through it.

Besides, the circumstances were anything but normal…

Finally, the blaze abated and Satan snored so loudly the sound could wake the dead. The irony was we were all already dead. And sadly, no one was sleeping. They were all staring at me and chattering away.

“Silence,” I shouted over the noise. “Uncle Fucker is taking a nap. It would be rude to wake him.”

To my shock and relief, the massive crowd quieted.

Now what?

“Umm… I’m honored to be here,” I started, only to realize that I hadn’t written a speech for the occasion. I’d simply pull one out of my ass. Singing was out of the question. “I… umm… well…”

“Tell a joke,” someone shouted from the back.

I was seconds away from poofing the hell out of the place when I realized my bare ass was stuck to the throne. I’d either sat in superglue or someone was screwing with me. I don’t sing and I don’t tell jokes. I had no speech prepared. I wasn’t even sure why I was here. The way Ethan was cooing and fussing over Satan, I’d say I had some marital issues. On top of that, my Nana had allowed me to walk out onto the stage buck-ass naked.

The boos and hisses started and I could see no way out. Mother Nature had fallen from the chandelier with a sickening thud and ripped her left leg right off of her body. She was now hopping around passing out cake to the crowd—naked with one leg. Thankfully, only very old Vampyres could ingest anything other than blood. However, the room was apparently full of ancient bloodsuckers. They were eating the cake like there was no tomorrow. The sheer amount of food poisoning that was about to occur made me want to laugh then exit quickly to avoid the vomit-fest.

However, my ass was still one with the throne. I could blow up buildings, but I couldn’t peel my bare butt from the fuzzy red velvet.

Fuck.

Jokes it would be. It was better than having to live down singing—live being a relative word.

“So, as I was saying,” I continued, shouting above the murmured praise for the cake that was going to make them ill very shortly. “It is an honor to be here. I’d like to start with a few jokes. What do you get when you cross a Vampyre with a snowman?”

No one said a word. But no one heckled me either. I considered it a win.

“Frostbite!” I announced, waving to the crowd with a princess-y wave I’d remembered Princess Diana giving on TV.

“You SUCK,” some undead asshat shouted.

So much for no heckling.

“Fine,” I snapped, flipping the audience the middle finger salute. Not very royal of me, but it felt terrific. “You try having your naked ass glued to a fucking throne and see how funny you can be.”

“Try again, sweetheart,” Nana insisted from the wings. “Maybe show some cleavage.”

“Are you serious?” I hissed at Nana. She’d been joined by a Demon named Lizard. He was a buddy of mine from Hell. Sadly, he didn’t seem to want to help me out either. Lizard just stood there and smacked on his ever-present chewing gum.

“I am very serious,” Nana replied. “You’re a huge flop. A little booby might help.”

“Oh my Uncle God,” I huffed with an enormous eye roll. “You’re supposed to be on my side.”

“I am,” Nana said. “Just trying to be helpful. I don’t want you to show up in the tabloids for bombing at your very first royal event. Your bosom would be a lovely distraction.”

She had to be wasted. I’d never heard my Nana talk that way my entire life. Too many times to count, she’d nailed me for my skirt length in high school like a drill sergeant. She’d made me drop my hands to my sides to make sure my mini-skirts were below my fingertips. Now she wanted me to flash my knockers to a roomful of Vampyres?

“Nope,” I muttered. “These jackholes don’t deserve to see my girls.”

“It was just a suggestion,” Nana huffed then disappeared in a cloud of sparkling white smoke.

Crap. Nana was mad. My mate appeared to be hitting on my uncle. Mother Nature was poisoning the masses. And I really didn’t want to end up being trashed in the tabloids…

“Alright, dead fuckers,” I yelled. “If someone knows the answer to the next joke, I’ll flash my left girl.”

“Is it the bigger one?” a posh-looking female Vampyre inquired while stuffing cake into her mouth.

“Umm… yes, it is,” I replied, hoping that her piece was loaded with rancid ingredients. “What do Vampyres sail the Seven Seas in?”

“Blood vessels,” a pompous male Vamp called out.

“Mother humper.” I closed my eyes. I should have asked a harder one.

The chants of boob, boob, boob, boob would be burned into my frontal lobe forever.

This was one of the worst days of my undead life, and I’d had my share of doozies. However, I was an undead gal of my word. Preparing myself to lower that fan, I glanced once more at the audience.

What the actual fuck?

Mother Nature was gone. Ethan was gone. Satan was gone. Martha, Jane and Lizard were gone. The posh and pompous Vampyres had disappeared. In their place were half-dead, bloody beings with green-tinted skin. Their limbs were mangled, and their flesh was rotting. Slimy foam poured from their mouths. Their eyes rolled in their partial skulls. Some of them appeared to be missing appendages, and all of them moaned and gnashed their teeth.

“Time to get the hell out of here,” I grunted as I tried desperately to rip my bare bottom from the throne. It didn’t matter if I removed all the skin off my royal derriere. I was a freaking Vampyre. I would heal.

A litany of swear words left my lips as the Zombies, for lack of a better word, crawled up onto the stage. This would be a seriously crappy way to die. I mean, I was already dead. And as the Chosen One, I was impossible to kill from what I’d been told. However, getting eaten didn’t really bode well for making it to tomorrow.

The fastest creature had no lips—as if they’d been bitten off by a deadly kiss. His arm was mangled and chewed away so that the bones showed. And he looked hungry.

They all came at me so fast, there was little I could do. My fucking ass was stuck. With nothing but a fan between me and the horde, I was going to die on the throne naked and in fifteen-inch stilettos.

A screeching woman with her eyes gouged from her head threw herself at me and began to gnaw on my shoes. Her intestines dragged on the ground beside her, and I gagged. The stench was awful. You’d think since I didn’t have to breathe, I couldn’t smell either. Sadly, it didn’t work that way.

“Umm… I know the jokes were bad,” I said, trying to make the Zombies see a little reason. I wasn’t sure if it was possible to reason with Zombies, but I was going to give it a shot. “But getting eaten for telling shitty jokes is a little excessive. You feel me?”

Wait a fucking minute. What was I doing? If I could take out the entire United States with a flick of my pinky finger, I could definitely destroy the Zombies with my ass glued to a throne. I had a brief moment of wondering if wearing the crown I hadn’t known I owned would have averted this crisis, but there was precious little time to think.

With a wave of my hand, black glitter burst from my fingertips. The screaming grew so intense, I dropped the fan and slapped my hands over my ears. Fiery balls exploded and the Zombies popped like ticks. The blazing orange flame punched its way out of the building and the throne I sat atop hurtled into the desert. My shoulder dislocated as I hit the ground like a ton of bricks in a crash landing that would have killed a mortal. The sound was horrifying, but a rather small inconvenience compared to getting eaten by Zombies. So, I simply shoved the shoulder back into the socket with a wince. My mouth was full of sand and, unfortunately, my ass was still attached to the fucking chair.

However, it wasn’t until all the characters from Sesame Street started Irish dancing while smoking cigars that I lost my shit.

* * *

“Mother humper,” I screamed as I jackknifed forward, fell out of the bed and landed on the floor.

“What?” Ethan demanded, vaulting off the bed as he went full-on Vampyre—fangs dropped and golden eyes blazing. “What is it?”

“Wait.” I glanced around in a panic then narrowed my eyes at the man I loved to an unhealthy distraction. “Are you seeing Uncle Fucker on the side?”

“Am I what?” Ethan asked, still scanning our bedroom suite for danger.

Crawling back into the bed and wrapping the thick down comforter around me, I cataloged everything in the room to make sure I wasn’t dreaming. Pinching my leg, I felt the pain. It was glorious.

“Do you know if Martha and Jane own any Prada?”

“Astrid,” Ethan growled, pacing the room like a predator ready to kill. “Tell me what’s happening. Was someone in here?”

“Umm… no,” I said, closing my eyes and wondering where in the hell my dream had come from. I’d blame it on nighttime snacking, but I didn’t eat. “Nightmare. I had a nightmare.”

Ethan’s rigid body relaxed. He crossed the room so fast, a human eye wouldn’t have seen him move. Getting into our bed and pulling me close, he kissed the top of my head and held me tight.

“Want to tell me about it?” he asked, playing with my hair the way I loved.

“No,” I said. “Definitely not. Too freaking weird.”

“I’m good with weird,” he pointed out.

“It’s a good thing you’re mated to me then,” I said, feeling safe in his strong arms. “I’ll tell you tomorrow. Will you hold me while I sleep?”

“Always,” he replied. “Although, tomorrow I have to leave early for a discussion on the West Coast.”

“Define discussion,” I said, tracing the sexy smattering of blond hair on his muscular chest.

Ethan was a thing of absurd beauty. And he was mine.

“Having a few issues out there. Might have to knock some heads together.”

“Literally?” I asked. Vampyres were a violent breed. Often times it was throwdown first, talk second. That is, if you made it through the throwdown.

“Yes.”

“Interesting. Do you want me to come?”

“I want you to take a day and do whatever you want to do,” he said, lifting my chin so our eyes met. “Shop. Sleep. Have some fun. I can handle the problem.”

I sighed and buried my face against his chest. To be honest, I was relieved. I would have Ethan’s back until the end of time, but after my farked-up dream, a day of nothing sounded pretty damned good.

“And don’t forget,” Ethan reminded me. “My brother, his paramour, and my sister will be arriving tomorrow evening.”

“Shit,” I muttered. “We have to entertain them?” I wasn’t exactly accomplished at royal Vampyre etiquette. I would most likely shove my foot into my mouth and pull it right out of my butt.

“We do,” he replied with a sigh, leaning back and getting comfortable. “My brother Wilhem is a bit of an asshole, but you’ll like my sister, Anastasia. She’s as pissed as hell to be playing chaperone.”

“Why does Wilhem need a freaking chaperone?” I asked, wondering what Ethan’s definition of asshole was.

Ethan grinned. “He doesn’t. My father is hoping Anastasia will meet someone on the royal tour. She’s getting crotchety in her advanced years. The King believes she needs to find herself a mate.”

“And how exactly does Anastasia feel about that?” I asked, loving any gossip that wasn’t about me. Nana’s mention of the tabloids in my dream was an unfortunate reality. The Vampyres had some seriously shitty rag magazines. Lately, I’d been their favorite target. Being an undead Princess who could kick everyone’s ass was not all it was cracked up to be.

“My sister is not on board. She’ll be in frighteningly fine form.”

“And you think I’m going to like a pissed-off undead Princess who doesn’t want to be here?” I asked, raising my brow.

“Yep,” Ethan replied with a chuckle. “When Anastasia’s not on a rampage, she’s actually quite fun.”

“Hmm,” I said, squinting at him. “Not the best of recommendations, but I’ll be nice. What about Wilhem’s paramour? Is she his mate?”

“Unclear,” Ethan said, slipping my nightie over my head and pulling me on top of him. “But from what I hear, she’s lovely.”

“So, then this isn’t someone you might have banged in the five hundred-ish years before you met me?” I inquired.

“Absolutely no banging,” he said with a lopsided grin and a possessive sparkle in his eye. “Never even met the woman. Why? Are you the jealous type?”

“Extremely,” I said. “But my mate is even worse. He’ll tear the head off of anyone who even looks at me.”

“Interesting,” Ethan said, sliding his hands down to my bottom that had only minutes ago been glued to a fictional throne in the middle of the desert. “He sounds dreadful.”

“Actually, he’s hot,” I told him. “Hung like a horse and knows what to do with it.”

“Really?”

“Really,” I replied, loving the feel of his skin pressed to mine. I would never get enough of the Vampyre.

Pressing my lips to his, tingles shot through my body. With the amount of sex we had, it would seem like it would get mundane. Nope. It kept getting better. Love made sex otherworldly.

“Wait,” I gasped out as Ethan’s fangs grazed my neck and made my girly bits clench with need.

“If you’re worried about your mate finding out, I promise to be discreet,” Ethan teased as his hands roamed my body with the sole purpose of seduction.

“No, seriously,” I said, sitting up and pulling on my hair in distress. “I need to ask you a question.”

Ethan, in all his naked and very aroused glory, switched from seducer to my best friend in a hot second. “Ask.”

I felt a little ridiculous, but there was a warning in my dream that had stuck with me—kind of like how my ass had stuck to the throne. “Umm…” I started, twisting my fingers in my hair. “Do I happen to have a crown?”

Ethan squinted at me, then laughed. “A crown?”

“Yes,” I said with an eye roll. “I mean, I’m a Princess. Right?”

“Indeed, you are,” he said, amused. “And yes, there are several crowns at your disposal. However, it’s news to me that you’re embracing your title.”

“It’s news to me too,” I told him with a shake of my head. “I just…”

“Your every wish is my command.” Ethan snapped his fingers. Three exquisite jeweled tiaras appeared on the bed. The sheer number of diamonds was staggering.

“Holy shit,” I whispered, afraid to touch them. “Are those real?”

Ethan grinned. “Quite.”

“And I can wear them?” I gingerly picked up the closest crown and placed it on my head. I would have loved to have seen how it looked on me, but I didn’t have a reflection—one of the downsides of being dead.

Ethan’s eyes blazed with desire. “You can wear all of them,” he assured me, straddling me on the bed. “I do believe I’d like to bang my Princess wearing her crown.”

I giggled. “The Princess requires that her Prince ask more politely.”

“She does?” Ethan shot back, cupping my breast in his hand.

“She most certainly does.” I arched my back to give him better access.

“How about this?” he whispered, leaning in and nipping my earlobe. “The Prince requests permission to fuck his Princess until she forgets her name and can’t walk for a week. Ten orgasms guaranteed.”

My brain left my body for a moment and my grin grew so wide it hurt my face. “Works for me.”

The Vampyre made good on his word. Although, he’d been off on the number of orgasms. It had been fifteen.

I was definitely going to wear my damned crown to bed from here on out.

Chapter Two

“I’d like to thank everyone for joining me today at this momentous fucking event. I will share with you that I had a shitty dream last night where I was naked in front of thousands of bloodsuckers and almost got eaten by Zombies. Suffice it to say, it wasn’t pleasant. However, the sex afterwards rocked,” I announced, eyeing the organized pile of purses and the rows of expensive shoes. Adjusting the obnoxiously jeweled crown on my head, I continued. After the banging last night, I decided to wear the damn thing as my good luck charm. “Today is my day just for me. And yes, I am fully aware what I’m about to do might seem strange and somewhat pathetic, but there is no glory without mixing regret and stupidity. That’s my motto, and I’m going with it.”

Nodding to all of the inanimate objects in my ridiculously large walk-in closet, I continued with the preparation of the shitshow. Carefully arranging the gorgeous cut-glass crystal bowl filled with tortilla chips next to the rare sterling silver, emerald-encrusted bowl of extra-hot salsa, I sighed dramatically. I’d placed the delectable feast on a thousand-year-old antique side table. It was intricately carved and fitting for the beauty atop it. The table wouldn’t be missed. I’d pilfered it from the library on the main floor of the Cressida House and brought it up to our suite. There was so much spindly, priceless furniture in the cavernous, book-filled room, I’d be shocked if someone noticed it was missing.

While I knew what was most likely about to happen, I was willing to try… again. Last year, I’d spent a full week with horrible cramps and an ashy taste in my mouth for a month after barely touching the tip of my tongue to a spoon of black raspberry chip ice cream. I was still taking crap from my family and Baby Demons about that one.

However, I’d rationalized my move today by convincing myself that the milk in the ice cream had been the culprit. Chips and extra-hot salsa were lactose-free. As a blood drinker, that made perfect sense. Not really, but it was my justification. Plus, salsa was red… like blood.

If I was being honest, which I wasn’t… I’d have to admit that watching the pompous Vamps eat cake in my dream might have helped plant the idea.

I was fully aware I was an idiot—evidenced by the fact I was performing the act of futility in my closet so no one would catch me. Ethan wasn’t going to be back till this evening and our guests weren’t due to arrive until after midnight. Samuel was in Zanthia visiting my bestie Gemma, the Fairy Queen, and her mate The Kev. If I felt like Hell warmed over, I’d just stay in my closet until my face wasn’t green. Sadly, as a Vampyre, I couldn’t throw up.

I had no bodily functions at all. And while that saved tremendously on toilet paper and tampons, I still wasn’t completely used to it. There were a few things I missed about my human life and eating food was at the top of the list.

Everything else about being heartbeat-free rocked. I had a smokin’ hot, undead, fanged Prince Charming. My son, Samuel, was my miracle baby who was no longer a baby, and for once, life was peaceful—peaceful being a relative word—the issues on the West Coast notwithstanding. The Vampyre world was rarely without deadly drama, but for the moment, it was less hostile than usual.

Deciding that the chips would look better on the right side of the table, I quickly rearranged the food. The presentation was important. I had one chance to get it right. If this went as badly as expected, at the very least, it would be aesthetically pleasing.

Clapping my hands to get the attention of my wardrobe, I cleared my throat and gave the shelves a lovely smile. “We are gathered here today to witness the Vampyre Princess of the North American Dominion do something she shouldn’t,” I explained to my rack of Prada gowns. “I’ve been jonesing for hot salsa for a few years now, and I figure that I’ve been dead long enough to give it a shot. Plus, almost getting eaten by Zombies in my dream has made me bold or stupid—your pick. It would suck all kinds of ass if I could eat and didn’t know it. You feel me?”

The dresses and accessories didn’t talk back. They were smart. It was also why I picked my closet to host my folly. Getting heckled wouldn’t work for me today.

With meticulous care, I picked up the largest and most curved chip in the bowl. If I was going to do this, I wanted to ingest as much salsa as possible. Even if I could only taste it for a hot second, the week of agony would be worth it. When a person lived forever, a week was a stinking blip in time.

“Don’t you do it, Chesty McMilkbomb,” a voice that made me grind my teeth warned me from the doorway of what I thought was my locked closet.

“Boobalicious Bongos, I always knew you were slow, but that would be a dang boneheaded move,” the second strident voice chimed in with a chuckle.

Gently putting the chip down so not a single drop of salsa spilled out, I whipped around and aimed my sparking fingers at the abominations who were screwing with my chi. It chapped my ass that they were correct. The two Vampyres were old, annoying hot messes. It still stymied me that Martha and Jane were wildly unattractive. Most Vamps were ridiculously pretty. However, the gals had been turned late in life and looked like not very well-preserved eighty-somethings.

Martha and Jane were dressed up—using the term loosely. They’d traded their everyday sweatpants for purple polyester booty shorts paired with house slippers, black socks and yellow sequined boob tubes. They were walking fucking fashion disasters with saggy bosoms and bottoms.

“Do you value your lives?” I asked Martha and Jane.

“Well, now… we’re dead,” Martha replied, scratching her sparsely haired head. “Is that a trick question, Monster Hooters?”

I zapped her. It couldn’t be helped. I was over the boob jokes. Apparently, the old dummies would never be over them. The idiot just grinned and slapped out the fire on her booty shorts. Martha was supposed to be in Hell watching over Luke, Satan’s new baby boy, along with her cohort, Jane. However, for some reason they were back in my neck of the Universe.

“Do either of you own any Prada?” I questioned. It was a ridiculous thing to ask, but my dream was still forefront in my brain.

“Don’t rightly know,” Martha said, confused. “Is it contagious?”

“Banged an old, uncircumcised geezer named Prad Tostada ’bout twenty years ago,” Jane offered. “Does that count?”

“Umm… no,” I said, wincing. Talking to them was like bashing my head repeatedly into a brick wall on purpose. However, I was relieved that they didn’t have any Prada hidden in their closets.

“Well, now, speaking of valuing life…” Martha said, tsking at me. “You’re gonna regret eatin’ that big time, Knockers LeMelons. Dead men can’t eat.”

“Neither can dead hookers,” Jane added, pointing her bony finger at me. “Meaning you.”

“Got that,” I said with an eye roll.

The two old Vampyres were the banes of my existence. However, they’d saved my son’s life and I was in their debt for eternity.

I was also the True Immortal who embodied Compassion.

Sometimes it sucked to be compassionate.

True Immortals were unkillable unless we chose to die by the Sword of Death. There were thirteen of us. I represented Compassion. My uncles, God and Satan, embodied Good and Evil, respectively. Mother Nature was Emotion and Bill—Satan’s father, my grandfather and Mother Nature’s mate—was Wisdom. My Demon cousin Dixie manifested Balance and her mate, Hayden—the Angel of Death—represented Death. The Angel of Light, Elijah, epitomized Life. And the woman he pined for, Lucy—the daughter of the original Eve—was Temptation. The three Fates, including Satan’s mate Elle and her mother Sadie, personified Fate.

And that left Samuel. My son was Utopia, the most powerful of all the True Immortals. He was a combination of all of our gifts. His future terrified me. Keeping him safe as he matured into who he was to become was paramount to both Ethan and me. While I knew there would come a day when my child would have to spread his wings, I hoped it wasn’t anytime soon. He was truly my miracle.

Martha and Jane, on the other hand, were not miracles. While I would never voluntarily admit it, I did love the old bats even though beheading them sounded like a fine plan most of the time… like now, for example.

“Why are you here?” I demanded, narrowing my eyes at them. “You’re supposed to be in Hell.”

“Oh, you know, regular Underworld bullshit,” Jane said, sitting down at the vanity and pawing through my nail polish. “Elle said Satan wasn’t stepping up enough with the baby, so she gave us the week off.” She pointed at my head. “Nice crown, Gazongas McHoullihan.”

“Thank you,” I replied. A compliment was a compliment no matter what the idiot chose to call me.

“Yep, Elle is not happy with Mr. Evil Bitable Buns,” Martha said, adjusting her elastic top as one of her floppy torpedoes fell out of it. “She’s gonna make the Devil change diapers. Told him if he didn’t, she was cuttin’ him off.”

I grinned. The visual was kind of delightful. To call Satan a handful was an understatement. My uncle was a self-absorbed jackhole. However, I did adore him. I couldn’t help it. As evil as he was, he was also a really good guy. The Devil, and Demons in general, didn’t create evil, they simply thrived on it. Satan was the first to blame his brother God for mankind’s evil ways. It was a stretch, but with my Uncle God giving humans free will, they had the choice between good and evil. It delighted Satan to no end how many went down the wrong path.

Telling Uncle Fucker I loved him was one of my favorite things to do. It was so much fun to watch him throw a shit fit.

“That’s right. Elle means business—electrocuted that sexy piece of ass six times when he bitched like a little girl about his gag reflex gettin’ triggered by poopy diapers,” Jane added. “Dastardly Smackable-booty is gonna get a purple pecker unless he gets with the plan.”

“Should be interesting,” I said, flopping down on one the overstuffed chairs in my closet. My closet in the Cressida House was bigger than my first apartment.

Looking at Martha and Jane, I shook my head. I remembered the day I’d had them turned with sickening clarity. It was the very same day I’d ended the life of my sorry excuse of a vile mother and even sorrier excuse of a Demon father.

I felt no remorse for ending the lives of two people so viciously evil. My parents defined the word. I suppose there might still be a small part of me that wished my mother had loved me, but it was a waste of time to pine for the impossible. Instead, I made sure that my son knew how much I loved him every single day.

Yes, Samuel was apt to roll his eyes and groan when I sang ‘You Are My Sunshine’ in the key of Z, but I was fully aware he secretly loved it. I was creating happy memories that may or may not send him to therapy. At least he didn’t cry like my second-grade class had when I sang.

“I’m not gonna do it,” I admitted, gazing longingly at the chips and salsa. “I think I was just hoping I could taste it for a second. The pain would be worth it.”

“I feel ya,” Martha said, picking her fangs with my comb. “I miss Spam, onion and blue cheese sandwiches somethin’ awful.”

Jane found a shade of polish she liked and shoved it into her booty shorts. “I miss them Vienna cocktail weenies and prune juice. Used to keep me real regular.”

In the space of two minutes and three seconds, I’d lost a comb, a bottle of nail polish and was gacked out beyond reason. If Martha didn’t take the comb with her, I was burning it. They were gross.

Martha cackled. “You don’t need prune juice anymore, dumbass. Your shitter got plugged up the day you died.”

“You got that right! No more praying to Jesus to help me drop the kids off at the lake when I’m constipated and sweating like a hooker in confession on the crapper,” Jane agreed, stealing a few more bottles of polish.

“Is there a reason you two imbeciles are in my closet?” I asked, ignoring every word Jane had just overshared. If I acknowledged it, I’d be forced to incinerate her to ash. With a snap of my fingers, I sent the chips and salsa away. It was far too tempting to have them in front of me.

“Yep, there’s a reason,” Jane confirmed.

“Absofuckinglutely,” Martha added, whipping out a pile of magazines and slapping them down on the now snack-free antique table. “I think we have some sphincters to dislocate.”

“Mmkay,” I said, glancing down at the pile.

My blood began to boil. Dead Buzz was on top, but I spied a copy of the Daily Fang, the Bloody Times and the National Dhampir. When I was human, I occasionally read the celebrity gossip magazines knowing they were filled with bullshit. However, I never gave them much thought. Now that I was dead, I despised them. Vampyres were vicious. The stories were completely fabricated and mean as all get out. And I was their favorite topic.

Finding where the magazines were housed was next to impossible. I’d tried. Ethan told me to ignore them. It came with the territory of being a royal. But they adored Ethan and his family, while they terrorized me.

Picking up the copy of Dead Buzz, I stared at the shitty drawing of me sitting on a throne coupled with an article about how I had no taste in fashion. The cartoon was insulting. Of course, there were no photos in the fucking rag mags since Vampyres didn’t show up on film, but this illustration was particularly heinous. My nose was half of my face and my hair looked like a red-streaked bird’s nest.

“Unreal,” I hissed. “I mean, I have plenty of bad qualities those sons of bitches could harp on, but my sense of fashion is not one of them.”

Martha nodded. “Next to me and Jane, you’re the best-dressed dead person we know.”

I said nothing and quickly sat on my hands, so I didn’t zap her. She was trying to be nice. Martha was woefully mistaken considering that she was wearing what amounted to a low-rent stripper outfit, but it was the thought that counted here.

“Want us to kill ’em?” Jane offered.

I was seriously tempted to say yes, but there was no way in hell that I would. Flicking my fingers and burning the pile of crap, I shook my head. As good as it would feel in the moment, in the long run it would suck. I was a target for many reasons. Being royal was only one of them.

“Nope,” I said. “No killing, but I wouldn’t mind if you tore a few new butt cracks.”

“The technical name for butt crack is intergluteal cleft,” Martha informed me.

“What did you just say?” I asked, squinting at her.

“My bad.” Martha cackled and slapped me on the back. “I forgot how dumb you are, Chesty Honkerburgers. Let me explain.”

Jane smacked Martha in the back of the head and sent her flying into my Chanel bags. They had about three seconds before I electrocuted them and sent them back to Hell.

“Martha, who was dropped on her head multiple fucking times when she was in her twenties, was using scientific language that she learned by cheating on her vocabulary tests in eighth grade. A more layman’s term for a hooker like you would be that the intergluteal cleft is the poop shoot or, more politely put, the Hershey hole.”

Crawling out from under the bags, Martha unfortunately joined in. “I’m partial to puckered starfish or corn pocket.”

Jane nodded in appreciation. “Yep, corn pocket is a good one. I also like fart box and mud clam.”

“You want to know what I’d like?” I inquired so quietly both idiots paled.

“Umm… to join in on the stink star contest?” Jane whispered.

“Nope,” I snapped. “I would like you to shut your pie holes or I’ll turn them into intergluteal clefts. You feel me?”

“Roger that,” Martha said. “So, it’s a no-go on killing the fuckers from the rags?”

“It’s a no-go,” I said with a sigh. “However, if you’d like to threaten and dismember a few of the reporters, I’d be down with that.”

“Woohoooo!” Jane sang as she did a little jig that reminded me of Elaine’s dancing from Seinfeld. “We’ll get our hot piece of man meat, Lizard, to help us. That sex god can scare the shit out of anyone.”

She was correct. Their mate Lizard was a Demon/Fairy of few words and dreadful taste. He had also been in my dream. Case in point of his shitty taste, he’d mated with Martha and Jane. However, I liked him tremendously. His name wasn’t a mistake. Lizard could literally shift into a massive prehistoric-looking lizard with teeth like I’d never seen. He was indeed terrifying.

“Fine,” I agreed. “But let Lizard know that no one dies. Removing appendages is not a problem. They grow back.”

“What about heads?” Jane asked.

“Heads do not,” I replied with an eye roll. “Do not decapitate the jackholes. Am I clear?”

“Yep,” Martha said. “We’ll bring you back a few intergluteal clefts!”

On that horrifying note, before I could tell them under no uncertain circumstances that if they brought me a poop shoot, I would have them thrown in the dungeon, they disappeared in a cloud of stinky purple smoke.

“Fuck,” I muttered, looking up at the ceiling. “Can this day get any worse?”

Chapter Three

Actually, the day could get worse.

And it did.

I had no clue why everyone thought it was fine to poof into my closet this afternoon. New rules needed to be made. However, right now wasn’t a good time. The Devil was having a meltdown.

“I’m fucking Satan,” my uncle growled, stomping around and examining my shoe collection.

I was relieved I hadn’t eaten the chips and salsa. I would have been in the fetal position on the floor. Being busted by Martha, Jane and Satan would have been far too much to live down.

“How many times have I told you that you need a new catchphrase?” I inquired, closing the closet door and slapping my hands on my hips. “You can’t fuck yourself. And if you can, I do not want to know.”

“You don’t understand, Astrid,” Satan said, ignoring the fact that I’d pointed out he’d announced he could bang himself. “I don’t change diapers. My cologne doesn’t mix well with eau de barf. I have evil shit to do—tons of evil shit. I’m a very busy, bad man. Turn your head while I steal a pair of wedges for Elle.”

“We don’t wear the same size,” I told him.

“What a pity.”

“Not really,” I replied.

“Nice crown. Are you fond of it?” he asked, eyeing it enviously.

“Extremely,” I said. “Don’t even think about leaving with it. I’ll make you regret it.”

“Understood.”

Satan’s hair stuck straight up on his head, and he was a disheveled hot mess. I’d never seen the Demon so sloppy. My uncle was beautiful beyond reason—and very aware of the fact. Satan stood over six feet tall, had long raven-black hair and a perfectly muscular build. The arbiter of evil reeked of magic and immeasurable power and was always impeccably dressed.

Not today.

His shirt was wrinkled and untucked. His Armani suit had what I could only guess was spit up on the shoulder, and he was wearing ratty-looking running shoes. If he looked in the mirror he would implode. Good thing I didn’t have any. Grabbing the Devil by the balls was a very bad plan, so I shoved him out of my closet and into my suite before he started pillaging my Prada.

“My schedule is full. Everything will go to Hell if I’m indisposed. I simply don’t have time to add anything to my plate.”

“I call bullshit, Uncle Fucker. And Luke is not just anything. He’s your son.”

Satan’s eyes turned a sparkling blood red, and he stared at me with displeasure. “I shouldn’t have come here. I was sure you’d have my back.”

I squinted at him, then laughed. “Nope, you came here because you knew I would tell you the truth,” I informed him. “I’ll never be a yes-woman for your sorry, evil, pathetic butt.”

“You’re incredibly rude,” he hissed.

“And you love it,” I pointed out, seating myself in my favorite comfy armchair and waiting for the hissy fit to continue.

“This is true,” he agreed, pacing the room erratically. “Does Ethan keep any office supplies in here?”

“He does not.” I bit back my grin with effort. “Would you like to go to his office so you can pilfer shit while you have your breakdown?”

Satan considered the change of venue for a few moments then shook his head. “No, not unless he has any staplers or letter openers that are baby-proofed.”

“Nope, can’t say he does,” I replied, watching my uncle come undone. “You’re lying to me.”

He threw his hands in the air and laughed. “Your point? I always lie. It’s in my DNA.”

“Sit,” I said, pointing at a black leather chair. “Now.”

The Devil huffed, blew up a priceless ottoman then did as he was told. I said nothing. Normally, I would zap his destructive ass for ruining my stuff, but he was on edge. Getting him to tell the truth would be difficult. However, I knew that was exactly why he’d come.

My day was supposed to be for me, but it would not be good for anyone in the Universe if Uncle Fucker truly lost his mind.

“Speak,” I said. “And for every piece of fiction that leaves your lips, I get to zap you.”

“Seems a little harsh,” Satan said, glancing down at his horrifying shoes and letting his chin fall to his chest in defeat.

“I’m good like that.” I actually felt sorry for him. Not that I would let him know it. He’d use my compassion to his advantage. I didn’t know how. I just knew he would. “Is the problem really poopy diapers?”

“How do you know about that?” he demanded, surprised.

“Martha and Jane were here. So… you have a problem changing diapers?”

He shook his head and sighed. “No.”

I waited.

And waited.

And waited.

“Would you care to expound on that answer?” I questioned.

“Do I have to?”

I zapped him.

“Damnit,” he bellowed and slapped out the fire on his pants. “I didn’t even lie.”

“Think of it as incentive not to. Wait. What in the ever-lovin’ heck?” I shouted in alarm, as the cushion beneath me began to vibrate. Zombies were still forefront in my mind. If there was a Zombie under my chair, I was going to lose my shit worse than Uncle Fucker. Hopping out of the chair, I ran across the room. “Are you messing with me?”

Satan, sensing my alarm, poofed to my side. “Define messing with.”

“Did you make the chair move?” I demanded, watching the piece of furniture closely. I was prepared to incinerate my favorite armchair if an eyeball or a green body part popped out.

“I did not,” he replied as his fingers began to spark and a smile pulled at his lips. “Shall I detonate it? It would be a pleasure to damage something by request.”

“Not yet,” I whispered as my fangs dropped. “Need to see what it is.”

Satan huffed and shook his head. “I never get to have fun. Fine. What exactly do you think is hiding in your chair?”

I was embarrassed to say it. I wasn’t even sure they existed. However, if Uncle Fucker laughed, I’d take a picture of him in his state of disarray and blackmail him with it. “Umm… a Zombie.”

The Devil was shocked into silence.

It was a very rare occurrence.

My stomach cramped, and I shot him a look.

“Are Zombies real?” I asked with a shudder.

“Unfortunately, yes,” Satan said, narrowing his eyes at the jerky movements coming from the chair. “However, killing them is rather difficult.”

“How difficult?” I asked as black glitter covered my arms, and my fingers began to spit purple flame.

Satan shrugged. His gaze was glued to the chair. “Depends on how they were created. Whatever species created them is the one that can destroy them.”

“Mmkay, that doesn’t help much,” I said. “How can you tell?”

“Trial and error,” he replied.

“That’s a shitty answer.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” my uncle said. “Why do you think there’s a Zombie in your chair?”

“A dream,” I told him.

“Tell me,” he instructed as fire began to lick at his large frame.

I wasn’t fazed by the fact that the Devil was ablaze. It was normal for him. However, it only happened in times of danger. That part unsettled me.

“I was naked in fifteen-inch Prada heels,” I explained quickly. “It was a hot shitshow. Nana was there—and yes, I know she’s for real dead. However, she gave me an enormous fan to cover my privates and shoved me out onto a stage in an auditorium filled with pompous bloodsuckers. I told a few jokes and got heckled. Martha and Jane were there, and so was Lizard. You were sitting on Ethan’s lap, and Mother Nature fell from the ceiling and tore off her leg. She fed thousands of Vampyres a cake she’d baked, and my ass was glued to the throne. Then the place was filled with Zombies who tried to eat me.”

“Does Prada actually make fifteen-inch heels?” he inquired, confused. “That sounds a little iffy.”

My head whipped to him and my eyes narrowed to slits. “Is that all you have to say?” I snapped. “Out of that entire shitshow of a dream, that’s what stands out to you?”

Satan chucked, still on fire. “Of course not, I was just curious. Did you get eaten?”

“Umm… no.”

“That’s a good sign,” he replied. “Dreams—or rather, your dreams—have foretold the future in the past.”

He was correct. And that sucked big butts.

“Maybe it means Nana is coming back,” I said, reaching for the only positive part of my nightmare.

“Possibly,” he agreed. “You could check in with God on that one. However, I don’t think that’s the important part of the dream.”

I rolled my eyes. “So, you have the hots for Ethan?”

“No,” Satan replied with a grin. “I find Elle far more appealing than your fanged mate, even though she’s royally pissed at me right now. However, Ethan does have a lovely array of office supplies.”

Again, I rolled my eyes. “Do you have any idea what the dream means?”

“I do not, Astrid. However, that’s not a Zombie under the cushion.”

My body relaxed and my fingers stopped shooting flames. As bad as Satan could be, he didn’t lie in battle. Plus, his body fire abated—a very good sign.

“What is it?”

“Who is it would be more accurate,” Satan shot back as he crossed the room and pulled the cushion off the chair.

“Mommmmy,” four tiny Baby Demons screeched as they pummeled each other with delight.

“Oh my Hell,” I choked out, leaning against the wall in relief—relief that they weren’t Zombies and massive relief that I hadn’t blown up the chair. I adored my little monsters. “You scared me to death.”

“Silly Mommmmy!” Abe squealed as he sucker-punched Ross. “You already dead!”

“He has a point,” Satan said, watching the smackdown with amusement. “You little bastards are vicious.”

“Tank youuuuuu,” Beyonce said with a curtsey right before Rachel decked her with a left hook that drew blood. Beyonce grunted with joy and scissor kicked Rachel, sending her to the floor with a thud.

I’d discovered my tiny monsters on my ceiling shortly after being turned. They were my three-inch-tall bundles of love. They were perfect, and they were tremendous dancers—albeit a bit on the violent side. I’d named them Honest Abe, Beyonce, Ross and Rachel, due to their uncanny resemblances to their historical counterparts. I loved them and they loved me. They also adored my son with a passion. I was surprised they hadn’t followed Samuel to Zanthia. They rarely left his side.

Flicking my fingers, I shot a breeze of glitter magic at them. They ate it up. Literally. The Baby Demons swallowed it then ran around the suite screaming and laughing like little drunks. At least they weren’t beating the crap out of each other anymore.

“Excuse me,” I shouted over the hysterics. “Is there a reason you were hiding in my chair?”

I got no answer other than unintelligible gibberish.

“I’d hazard a guess you gave them too much glitter magic,” Satan said, wincing as the high-pitched screams began to shatter the windowpanes.

“Crapballs,” I muttered as I plucked them up and put them in my closet. While we could still hear them, it was far better than having to worry about being impaled by shards of glass. And with all the energy they were expending they’d pass out shortly. “Okay, where were we?”

Satan scrubbed his hand over his beautiful, unshaven face and shrugged. “Actually, I have no fucking clue.”

Grinning, I put the cushion back and flopped down on the chair. “I remember. I think you’re scared.”

Satan eyed me and made a face. “I am the Devil. I’m scared of nothing.”

“Blah blah, blah,” I said. “You’re so full of shit.”

Uncle Fucker looked like he wanted to decapitate me, but instead of acting on an impulse that wouldn’t kill me—only piss me off—he sat back down and pouted.

“Look,” I said, running my hands through my hair and sighing. “I have company that I’m not happy about arriving after midnight. Ethan is kicking undead ass on the West Coast, and I thought there were Zombies inside my chair. If you’re gonna be a dick, I’m not helping you. You feel me?”

“Fine,” Satan grumbled. “He likes Elle better than me.”

“Who? Luke?” I asked, swallowing back my amusement with enormous effort.

“Yessssss. Luke,” he hissed. “I think it might be her boobs. I’m not sure. Elle insists that he loves me. However, Elle lies as much as I do. When I pick Luke up, all he does is puke or crap on me. It’s appalling. I’ve taught the Prince of Hell profanities. I’ve offered him a massive bank account. I have shown him my instruments of torture and introduced him to horror classics. And still… he likes her better.” Satan paled and closed his eyes. His voice dropped to a horrified whisper. “At one point, I considered conjuring up a pair of boobs for myself. The thought was fleeting, but it was there. Loving something more than myself, something that doesn’t like me, has fucked with my narcissism.”

“Luke is not a something, he’s a someone.”

The Devil picked up a shard of glass and examined his reflection. With a grunt of disgust, he dropped it to the floor and crunched it under his tennis shoe. “I know,” he said. “And I also know Luke doesn’t like me. He rarely shits on Elle.”

“So, you’ve decided what?” I asked.

The Devil stood up and tucked his shirt into his pants. “I’ve decided to let Elle raise him. I had no hand in raising my other children and they turned out fine.”

I wrinkled my nose. “Define fine.”

“Well, one of them did,” he said, defensively.

I watched him pace the room having an internal war with himself.

“You have eight daughters and only Dixie turned out fine,” I reminded him.

“Your point?”

This was tedious, but he was truly at a loss. “You raised Dixie yourself. The rest of them are murdering asshats.”

Satan opened his mouth, but not a word came out.

Point for me.

“What did you do with Dixie?” I asked.

“I played dolls with her and dressed up like a princess—I looked gorgeous as Sleeping Beauty, by the way. I drank pretend tea and punished her for good grades,” he said, as his brain worked a mile a minute. “I also let her do my makeup. It was horrifying and quite undignified, but it made her happy.”

“Mmkay, most of that was good,” I said, grabbing my laptop. “Luke is a little young for that right now. Come sit with me.”

Pulling up a toy site, I began filling the cart with puppets, storybooks, soft stacking blocks and some adorable stuffed bugs. Satan watched with rapt attention.

“So, I give this stuff to Luke to bribe him to like me?” he asked in all seriousness.

“For the love of everything stupid,” I groused. “Luke is six months old. You can’t bribe a baby. They see right through that shit.”

“That was a joke, right?” Satan inquired, perplexed.

“Umm, no,” I said with a laugh. “We’re ordering this stuff so you can play with him. You’re going to read him stories and sing him songs. You’re going to sit your Armani-clad ass on the ground and build soft block towers with your son while you sing to him.”

“Journey songs?” he asked as his eyes lit up at the possibility of sharing his favorite band with his child. “I could procure Steve Perry to sing to Luke.”

I smacked the Devil upside the back of his head. “You will not kidnap Steve Perry… again.”

Satan rubbed his head and put a little distance between us. “I didn’t kidnap the greatest singer in the Universe. My daughters did as a gift to me. It was the nicest thing those ungrateful shits ever did.”

“Right,” I said with an eye roll. “No kidnapping. Anyone. Plus, Steve Perry still has a restraining order against you. And you’re missing the freaking point entirely. You are supposed to sing to him. Not hire someone to do it. You have to bond with Luke.”

“So, are you implying that giving him money, teaching him to swear and showing him my torture chamber doesn’t count?” he asked, trying to wrap his idiot head around the new rules.

“I’m not implying anything,” I said, holding out my hand. “I’m telling you what to do. There’s a difference.”

Satan stared at my extended hand in confusion. “You want to hold hands?” he asked with a shudder. “I’m not good with the touchy-feely stuff.”

“I do not want to hold your damn hand,” I snapped, trying not to giggle. “Give me your wallet. You’re paying for this crap.”

Satan reached into the breast pocket of his spit-up-covered suit and handed me his wallet.

“What the actual fuck?” I muttered as over fifty credit cards spilled out. “Are any of these legal?”

“All of them,” he replied with a naughty smirk. “However, I suppose you should choose one that has my name on it if that’s what you were asking.”

Uncle Fucker was a piece of work. “Do you have a real name to use or am I looking for one that says The Devil?” I asked as I examined the pile.

“Find one that says Lucifer Stunning Darkstar.”

“Are you serious?” I laughed as I found a few with the ridiculous name on them. “I guess you don’t actually have a last name per se, but the Stunning part is a little much.”

He shrugged and grinned. “The truth is the truth. Check God’s credit cards next time you see him. The jackass is incredibly full of himself.”

“Pot, kettle, black,” I pointed out. “And you can’t just say that and leave me hanging.”

“Do you swear you won’t say I told you?” Satan inquired with a wicked grin.

I nodded and grinned right back at him. “Is it worse than yours?”

“Much.”

“Let me guess,” I said. “Umm… Lord Resplendent Almighty?”

Satan appeared intrigued, snapped his fingers and produced a notepad and a pen. “No, but that’s fabulous. I’m stealing it.”

“Have at it,” I told him. “Tell me. I don’t want to guess again and give you more ideas.”

“As you wish,” he said, shaking his head with pity. “God calls himself Bob Smith.”

I eyed the idiot and wanted to zap him. God wasn’t a grandiose ass basket like his brother. Of course, God would have chosen something simple and discreet.

“Alrighty then,” I said, punching in the credit card number after tossing a few more interactive toys into the cart. “Here’s the deal. You’re going back to Hell. You are going to love and kiss and hug your son. Constantly. You will have story time and you will not be jealous of Elle’s boobs. Ethan was never jealous that I could feed Samuel. He marveled at the miracle of a woman’s body. It was hot, and he got laid often because he made me feel like a goddess.”

“Interesting,” Satan said, taking more notes. “Very interesting indeed.”

“And you will change diapers all the time—poopy and pee pee,” I instructed. “I’d highly recommend using an extra diaper as a pee pee shield when you change Luke unless you’re into golden showers. You will burp your son after he eats to give Elle a break. You will treat Elle like the goddess that she is and everyone that you love will love you right back.”

“You’re sure about this?” he asked, looking a bit doubtful.

“Positive. Also, foot massages and drawing bubble baths with candles burning is nice.”

“Got it,” he said. “Is that for Luke or Elle?”

“Umm… Elle.”

“Roger that. Anything else?”

I shook my head and took the notebook from his hands. “I know you get itchy talking about feelings, but you love Elle and you love Luke. All you have to do is show them. Follow your instincts. Blow raspberries on his little belly after bath time. Make silly faces and sing ‘Lovin’, Touchin’, Squeezin’ as he falls asleep in your arms.”

“This is brilliant,” Satan said, swiping the notebook back and writing down all of my advice. “Should I hold off on the horror films and swearing until he’s one?”

“Let’s up that to fifteen,” I suggested. “You don’t want his first word to be shit.”

“Fine point. Well made.”

We both stared at each other for a long moment. Satan finally smiled. I smiled right back.

“I’d say thank you, but it gives me hives,” he said, reaching out and touching my cheek with fondness.

“I’d say fuck you, but that would be rude,” I shot back, putting my hand over his.

“Astrid, I shall be sending you a gift,” Satan announced as he waved his hands and sparkling black magic surrounded him.

“Please don’t,” I insisted. His idea of a gift was not good. “I’m happy to help you because I love you.”

“I get no respect,” he groaned, but his eyes held a twinkle. “And I don’t care if you don’t want a gift. You will be getting one just cause.”

And on that cryptic note, he disappeared in a blast of enchanted glitter.

Things were looking mighty scary. Martha and Jane were bringing me a sphincter and Satan was sending me… Hell, I didn’t know what Uncle Fucker was sending. As long as it had nothing to do with a poop shoot, it had to be better than what the old bats were after.

Chapter Four

“Mommmmy,” four little voices called out from the closet.

“Crap,” I muttered as I quickly went to retrieve my little monsters. Visions of shredded designer clothes filled my head, and I wanted to kick my own butt for putting my violent tiny Demons in the closet. “If you guys ate my shoes, we’re gonna have some problems,”

“No eat Mommmmy’s shoes,” Abe screamed as I opened the door and was bombarded with wet kisses.

“Thank Uncle God,” I said as I pulled Abe off of my left boob.

Abe had a bit of an unhealthy breast obsession. My Baby Demons had a few unsavory habits. They loved strip clubs and eating bad Demons. The latter had come in handy when my father was trying to kill me. However, the visual was one that a million years of therapy would never erase. The physical ability of something so small being able to ingest something so huge was mind-boggling. I refused to give it much thought due to the fact it brought on nightmares.

“Why didn’t you little turds go to Zanthia with Samuel?” I asked as I walked back into the suite and gently placed them on my dresser. “You love Zanthia.”

“Just cause,” Beyonce announced as she doused herself in perfume.

The answer was incomplete. Something was off. Beyonce tended to talk in cryptic riddles. I rarely ignored what she said. Not to mention, just cause were the last two words Satan had spoken. Strange.

“Mmkay.” Just cause could mean they didn’t go to Zanthia just because they didn’t want to. Or it could mean just cause like in all the crime dramas I loved to watch. Or it could be a dang video game. Getting a straight answer out of my Baby Demons was tricky. “Could you be a little more specific?”

“Noooooooo, Mommmmy!” Rachel squealed as she opened up a tube of lipstick and ate it. “Yuuuucky.”

“That goes on your lips, not in your tummy,” I told her as I took the tube away. “Umm… did any of you happen to go to law school?”

I was going to have to work my way into a straight answer about just cause.

“Pole dancing school,” Ross announced as he shimmied across my dresser, only to be drop-kicked by Abe to the floor.

“Yessssssss, hump the pole school,” Rachel screamed with a face covered in bright pink lipstick. “Me wanna work at Big Sean’s Booby Barn!”

“Well, there’s something to aspire to,” I said with a giggle.

“Me wanna be a fireman,” Abe said as he burst into flames while laughing like a loon.

Since they spent most of their time with my son, I hadn’t had the horrifying pleasure of hanging out with my monsters lately. They were so cute it was incredibly easy to forget how destructive they were.

“No fires,” I said, wiggling my finger and dousing Abe. “Uncle Fucker already blew up an ottoman. I’d like to keep my dresser intact. You feel me?”

“Me would like to feel Mommmmy,” Abe announced with a wicked little grin, reaching for my boobs.

“Nope.” I shook my head and raised a brow. “My knockers are off-limits.” I still didn’t have an answer to the just cause issue. “Do you guys play video games?” I tried another avenue.

“Nooooooooo!” Ross said, crawling back up onto the dresser. “Too busy pole dancing.”

“Got it,” I said.

“Man boobs,” Beyonce said.

“What?” I asked, squinting at her. My mind raced for a double meaning.

“Booby, booby, booby MAN BOOBIES!” Rachel sang as all four started break dancing.

I looked down at my chest to make sure nothing had gone awry. Nope. The girls were just fine—perky and there.

“Uncle Fuuuucker,” Abe insisted, pointing at the closet. “Man boobies.”

I glanced over at my closet and half expected to see my uncle sporting man boobs. Thankfully, no such surprise awaited me. Or so I thought…

“Mmkay,” I said. “Trust me on this. Do not ever say that Satan has man boobs. You might be cute, but that will not save you from the wrath of a narcissist.”

“Nooooooo Mommmmmy,” Rachel said, rolling her little Demon eyes. “Devil give you man boobies.”

“SURPRISE!” Beyonce shouted, cackling so hard she fell right off the dresser. “Me no eat man boobies. Niiiiiice man boobies. NO EAT.”

Clearly, the glitter magic had caused brain damage.

“Great,” I said, quickly checking my girls once again in terror. They were fine. “How about this? Why don’t you pop over to Zanthia and check on Samuel for me?”

“Meeeee love Samuel,” Rachel said, swooning and giggling.

“Meeeee love Samuel too,” Ross said, imitating Rachel.

“Meeee love Samuel the MOST,” Abe insisted while sucker punching Rachel and Ross.

“Nope,” Beyonce announced, hopping back up on the dresser and karate-chopping her partners in crime and destruction. “Meeee love my big boy more than ANYBODY.”

“Awesome,” I said, separating them before they knocked each other unconscious. “I think you should go tell Samuel how much you love him. And tell him I love him too. Cool?”

“Yes,” they all screamed in unison and then disappeared in a tiny cloud of shimmering red mist.

Samuel might have wanted a break from his violent little shadows, but with royal company coming to the Cressida House, it might be better if the tiny menaces took a short vacation. Explaining to Vampyres why I had Baby Demons was always a little touchy. Normally, Vamps and Demons weren’t the best of buddies. However, since I was half Vampyre and half Demon, I was making some changes in our society. Some would say unwelcome changes, but that didn’t faze me. Most of what I did was unpopular with the undead. Stuffy, pompous bloodsuckers needed to get with the inclusion program. Ethan had said Wilhem was an asshole, which probably meant he was old school. Hopefully, they wouldn’t be staying long.

“Silence. Blessed silence,” I said, walking over to my closet to pick an outfit for the evening. Once more, I glanced down at my chest. If for any reason Uncle Fucker had gifted me a set of man boobs, I was going to ruin his evil life. “Nope, I’m still rocking my own girls. Satan is safe for now.”

Opening the closet door and keeping my eyes open for a random set of man boobs floating around, I pawed through my cocktail dresses. Normally, I would have chosen black, but maybe fire-engine red would be a better color for the evening ahead.

“I’d go with black,” a deep male voice suggested. “Red enhances your Demon side. Wouldn’t want to upset the bloodsuckers… or make them hungry.”

“What the hell?” I shouted as I whipped around and shot a fireball at the uninvited voice.

Inhaling the fire that almost set his pants ablaze, the man chuckled and gave me the finger. “Was that really necessary?” he inquired.

“Remains to be seen,” I said with my hands poised to blast him again. The fact that he inhaled my magic was alarming. I’d never seen that trick before.

And now I knew what the Baby Demons were talking about. A stupidly handsome, shirtless, rude Demon was lounging in my closet. The idiot was not only shirtless, he was barefoot and had some nice pecs. I wouldn’t have called them man boobs, though. When I thought of man boobs, I envisioned squishy, floppy sacks of flesh hanging off of an out-of-shape body.

“Name?” I hissed as my fingers continued to spark.

The intruder grinned. He had some large cojones for being a trespasser. “Leviathan,” he replied. “I go by Levi.”

I rolled my eyes. I knew Demons could be dangerous. I’d spent plenty of time in Hell. However, this semi-dressed douche didn’t seem like he was here to kill me. Plus, Beyonce had made it abundantly clear that she hadn’t needed to eat him—meaning he wasn’t a bad Demon. Of course, bad was a relative word when dealing with the denizens of Hell… but I felt fairly sure that he wasn’t here to do me harm.

Annoy me? Probably.

Try to off me? Doubtful.

“Is there a reason you’re in my closet?” I questioned, not letting my guard down in case I was wrong about his character.

“Not that I know of,” he said with a shrug. “Satan said I was going somewhere and here I landed.”

I squinted at him. “Uncle Fucker sent you?”

Levi rolled his eyes. I had to admit it was impressive. “Apparently, I’m your gift.”

“Nope. Not happening. I have entirely too much to do today to deal with a clothing-impaired Demon who goes by the same name as his jeans,” I said, trying to one-up his eye roll and failing. “You are going right back to Hell, little mister.”

Levi stared at me with curiosity. It was a little bizarre and somewhat invasive. It wasn’t sexual in nature, but it was intensely personal. I found myself doing the same thing. He seemed familiar, but I couldn’t place him.

“Have we met?” I asked with my flaming fingertips still aimed at him.

“We have not.”

“Satan is smoking crack,” I muttered. “Thank Uncle God that Ethan isn’t here right now. He’d rip your head right off your body for showing up in my closet half-naked.”

“The Vampyre Prince isn’t here?” Levi inquired.

I narrowed my eyes and sent another warning zap his way. He inhaled it again. “Nope. And if you’re thinking you can get away with anything because the man of the palace is away, think again, Blue Jeans. I am your worst freaking nightmare.”

Levi shook his head and groaned. “That’s a given. And are the pants nicknames necessary? It’s kind of rude.”

“And you showing up in my closet half-dressed is polite, Mr. Tough Skins?” I shot back.

“Dude,” he said, snapping his fingers and covering his upper half with a t-shirt. “I don’t want to be here anymore than you don’t want me here. You feel me?”

“That’s my line,” I snapped. “There will be no stealing of my lines.”

“Whatever,” Levi said with another wildly impressive eye roll. “Tell me what I have to do to get out of here.”

“I don’t know what you have to do, dumbass,” I told him, giving up and flopping down on the chair across from him. I still couldn’t shake the feeling I knew him. “Didn’t Satan tell you?”

“Hell no. He’s a cryptic asshole,” Levi pointed out. “Plus, he looked extremely hungover. He was a hot fucking mess.”

“Again, you’re stealing my lines,” I accused. “I don’t like it.”

“Deal with it,” he said. “I’m older than you and have used them longer. Therefore, you’ve been stealing my lines.”

“Bullshit,” I said.

“You have a filthy fucking mouth,” Levi pointed out.

I grinned. “Pot, kettle, black, douchebag”

“Butthole,” he replied with a smirk.

“Turd.”

“Assface,” he announced for the win.

I stared at him. He stared right back.

“What is happening here?” I asked.

“Not a clue. You started it,” Levi said, leaning back in the chair and blowing out a long, slow breath.

“Who are you? Really?”

He sighed and ran his hands through his jet-black hair. The action was familiar. He reminded me of… me.

Shit.

“I’m no one of consequence,” he replied smoothly. “Just figure out what you need me to do and I will disappear faster than a blink of an eye. I would have said beat of a heart, but since you’re dead, I refrained. I’m good like that.”

“Actually, you didn’t refrain and you’re still pilfering my lines,” I said, shaking my head and grinning. “You have no manners.”

“I’m a Demon. It’s to be expected.”

He had a point.

“Who is your sperm donor?” I demanded, sitting up and rethinking my safety. I’d been the one who’d eliminated the heinous Demon who’d sired me. My father—for lack of a better word—was Satan’s brother. He was a viciously evil man. I’d been terrified that the Devil would want me destroyed for killing him. I couldn’t have been more surprised when Uncle Fucker thanked me.

My parentage was a bit lacking—an understatement. However, if this Demon was related to me, he might not be happy about what I did.

“Same as yours. I despised him,” he said, reading my mind. “Not here to take revenge.”

“Get out of my head,” I hissed.

“Stop thinking so loudly,” Levi said. “Your brain practically screams. Pipe down.”

“You pipe down, jackhole,” I snapped. “So, what are we to each other?”

“We are nothing to each other,” he said coldly. “We share some DNA. That’s all. Right now, you need to tell me what I have to do to get out of here.”

“Pull the denim out of your ears,” I said, a little hurt. Was the jerk really my brother? If we shared a sperm donor, the answer was yes. “I already told you I have no freaking idea why Satan sent you.”

“Awesome,” Levi said flatly. “Fine. I’m sure the reason will present itself soon enough. Is there room at the inn for me?”

I silently studied his face. I didn’t have a reflection anymore, but I realized I was staring at a male version of myself—gold eyes, high cheek bones, dark brown hair. He was missing the red streaks in his hair and I thought his lashes might have been longer than mine, which wasn’t fair, but other than that, we were very much the same. Holy Hell, how many of us were there?

“Are you my brother?” I asked, needing to know for sure. Had Satan gifted me with a family member?

“In scientific terms, yes,” Levi conceded in a bored tone. “In any other sense, absolutely not.”

“Rude,” I said.

“Ruder,” he replied.

“How many more?” I asked.

“More what?” he asked.

“Siblings?” I snapped.

“No clue,” Levi answered. “I only know of you.”

“Tiara,” I said. “You also have a half-sister named Tiara. She’s part Demon, part Fairy turned Vampyre.”

“Interesting,” Levi said with a chuckle. “That’s some baggage.”

“She’s also a lesbian who can kick your ass. If you have any issue with homosexuality, you can leave now. I don’t give a shit what Satan wants. I will destroy anyone who hurts my sister,” I said, standing up. “If we’re in agreement, I’ll put you in a suite. You can stay until we figure out how to get rid of you.”

“Such lovely hospitality,” he said with sarcasm dripping from each word. “And for the record, I don’t care what people do or who they love. I judge people on character. You have failed.”

For a moment, I was stunned to silence. His words hurt my feelings.

So be it. This morning, I didn’t know I had a brother. I could easily forget that I had one tomorrow. If Levi didn’t like me, screw him. Satan was going to pay for making me feel like shit.

I shrugged rudely to cover my disappointment. “Or I could put your nasty ass in the dungeon if you’d prefer.”

He sighed and looked up at the ceiling. “What I prefer is not on the table—never has been. I do as I’m told. Period.”

I paused. What he said broke my non-beating heart. His timing was crappy, considering we had undead royalty showing up in a few hours. Whatever. Timing was always crappy. Tiara was halfway around the world on a mission. I knew I could call her and her partner back, but first I would make sure Levi wasn’t here to mess with us in any way. Tiara would be thrilled to have a brother. However, she’d been through enough pain in her life. If Levi was a son of a bitch, I’d send him back to Hell in a flaming handbasket.

And if he wasn’t a shit…

Well, that remained to be seen.

Chapter Five

“Repeat,” Ethan said tersely, removing his blood-spattered clothing and stepping into the shower. He looked as if he’d been to war. He didn’t seem to want to talk about it yet, so I shared my day first.

“I have a brother. He pilfered all my lines. He’s an asshole and he’s staying with us.”

“Here? Now?” Ethan asked, confused.

Admiring his gorgeous naked body, I sighed dramatically. Sadly, there was no time for a quickie. Our guests were about to arrive. “Yes, and yes. Satan sent him as a gift because I read him the riot act about poopy diapers and being jealous of Elle’s boobs.”

“Satan’s jealous of his mate’s breasts?”

“Long story,” I said with a grin. “Suffice it to say, he’s on the right track now. I hope.”

“Got it. So, your brother is a Demon?” he asked in a businesslike tone as he soaped up and rinsed off.

“One hundred percent. He’s rude and socially unacceptable. I set him up in a suite on the third floor and he hasn’t come out at all. He doesn’t want to be here.”

“Does this brother have a name?” Ethan asked, toweling off and grabbing an Armani suit off a hanger.

Ethan’s scent made my knees weak—clean laundry right off the line, summer breezes with hints of orange blossoms and sex. My man also smelled dangerous. The scent was uniquely his—very masculine and seriously sexy.

“Leviathan. Goes by Levi, like the jeans.”

Ethan paled. “Leviathan?”

“Umm… yes. Problem?”

Ethan stepped into his pants and shrugged. “Possibly. Your brother is an admiral of Hell and known as a sea monster.”

“Shut the front door,” I said with a laugh. “A sea monster?”

He nodded and raised a brow. “Did you shoot any magic at him? More importantly, did it land?”

Shit.

“I did and he inhaled it,” I said, feeling iffy about letting Levi stay at the compound.

“Your brother’s magic is liquid, for lack of a better way to explain it,” Ethan said, picking up one of my crowns and placing it on my head. “Very little can harm him. From what I’ve heard over the centuries, many have tried to destroy him for sport.”

“Because he’s a dick?” I asked as my stomach sank.

“No. Because it would be a notch in their psychotic belts to annihilate the undestroyable.”

“That’s completely fucked up,” I snapped, wanting to go hug and protect the brother who didn’t like me.

“Couldn’t agree more,” Ethan said, pulling me close and holding me tight. “The world is a screwy place at the moment.”

“You’re telling me,” I said, looking up into his sparkling golden eyes. Now that he was cleaned up, I pressed him about the head knocking that had turned into a blood bath. “How bad was the West Coast?”

“Bad would be an understatement,” he said, closing his eyes for a brief moment. “We definitely have a situation.”

“Explain.”

Ethan checked his watch and winced. “We only have about ten minutes. I’ll fill you in on everything later tonight.”

“Hint,” I said. “My imagination is usually far worse than reality.”

Taking my hand and leading me into our massive suite, Ethan sat me down and squatted in front of me. “We have a Zombie problem.”

If I could have puked, I would have.

Grabbing the arms of the chair so tightly my knuckles turned white, I held on to my composure by a thread.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

I shook my head. “We’re going to be fashionably late to greet our guests,” I ground out. “I have to tell you about my dream.”

My demeanor couldn’t have been more serious.

Ethan’s gold eyes were laser focused on mine. “We’re the royals,” he said. “We can be as late as we want. Talk to me, Astrid.”

* * *

“I’m not sure this is a good idea,” I whispered, standing by the door of the suite where I’d put Levi.

Ethan had not laughed at my dream. He hadn’t made a comment about the fifteen-inch Prada heels, either. He was slightly disturbed about his new relationship with Satan, but he took everything in stride. My Vampyre’s mind was like a steel trap, and he asked many questions. But time was ticking, so, we put the rest of the conversation on hold.

“Probably a terrible plan,” Ethan agreed. “However, Satan doesn’t do anything without reason. If he sent Leviathan to you, he was motivated to do so. We will keep your brother close as we would any enemy until we determine if he is an ally.”

“Satan is insane,” I reminded Ethan.

“Fine point. Well made. The Devil’s lack of mental stability is not in question at the moment. His motivation for sending an absurdly powerful Demon to you is.”

“Crapballs,” I muttered as I raised my hand to knock on the carved teak door of the suite. “I can guarantee that Levi will not be cool with this.”

“He won’t,” my brother said, opening the door before my knuckles touched the wood. “Doesn’t matter. I’m here to follow orders until I’ve satisfied whatever unsavory plan Lucifer has in store for me.”

Ethan was taken aback as he stared at my brother. His eyes narrowed as he sized up the Demon from head to toe. Levi stood as still as a statue and unblinkingly returned the stare.

“Shocking,” Ethan said as his gaze bounced between Levi and me. “The resemblance is uncanny.”

Levi shrugged. “I’m better looking.”

“Not,” I said with an eye roll.

“I’m taller,” he pointed out.

“I’m funnier,” I shot back.

A small smirk pulled at the side of Levi’s mouth. “Funnier looking.”

“Oh my Hell,” I said, raising my middle finger. “You’re a gaping asshat.”

“Talk shit. Get hit,” Levi said dryly for the win.

I was going to remember that one. It was good. If he could steal my lines, I could steal his.

Ethan leaned on the doorjamb and watched with amusement. “While this is entertaining, we don’t have time,” he said, glancing at Levi in his jeans and t-shirt. “Do you have formalwear with you by any chance?”

“I’m sure he has a tux wedged up his butt since he’s a huge butthole,” I chimed in.

Levi laughed. It made my dead heart sing. I played it off and made a face at him. The sound of his happiness did something strange to my insides. With each second spent with the rude Demon, I realized happiness hadn’t been part of his equation. I wasn’t completely sure how I knew, but it was crystal clear. Maybe Satan sent my brother to me so I could heal him somehow.

That would be a bit magnanimous on the Devil’s part, but he was known to be very nice on occasion. Uncle Fucker would deny it, but I had the idiot’s number.

“I travel light,” Levi said in an annoyed tone. “However, as I explained to Astrid, I do as told.”

With a wave of his hand, the jeans and t-shirts disappeared. Leviathan the Demon was now clad from head to toe in Hugo Boss. He was still rude and unacceptable, but he was also pretty and presentable.

“You clean up nice,” I said.

“I do,” he replied smugly.

“And your humility is astounding,” I added.

“Thank you,” Levi said with a cheeky grin.

“Wasn’t a compliment.”

“Yes. I know,” he said. “Why are we dressed like this and who are we trying to impress?”

Ethan was silent for a long moment. His jaw clenched and he examined my brother as if he were a deadly experiment—which was a possibility. I knew my mate was debating if we were making a mistake by bringing Levi into the fold.

Levi watched every movement on Ethan’s face.

Ethan shrugged. “Mistakes have a way of becoming successes,” he said, still staring at Levi. “My brother Wilhem, his paramour, and my sister Anastasia are here for a royal tour. We’ll be hosting them.”

“How long?” Levi asked the question that was on the tip of my tongue.

“As little time as possible,” Ethan said shortly. “I have issues unfolding that need my attention.”

“Would you like to be more specific?” Levi asked casually.

“No, I would not,” Ethan said politely, yet his tone was icy. “While I don’t feel that you’re here to do harm, I don’t trust you.”

“Smart,” my brother said. “I’m not to be trusted at all.”

“Shut up, Wrangler Man,” I said with an eye roll. “You’re a dick, but Satan wouldn’t have sent you here if you wanted to hurt me.”

Levi’s brows shot up. “You trust the Devil?”

I leveled him with a gaze that made him uneasy. “With my life. I trust the Arbiter of Evil with my undead existence.”

Levi whistled and groaned. “You’re more of an idiot than I thought.”

I laughed. “And you are the dumbest wanker I’ve ever met. Call it even.”

“As you wish,” Levi replied.

“Are we done?” Ethan inquired. “We have a party to attend.”

“Wait. We’re having a party?” I asked, panicked. “I thought it was an intimate little get-together with your siblings.”

“Trust me,” Ethan said with the tiniest of winces. “It’s far better to be with my brother in a crowd.”

“Why?” I asked as the three of us made our way down the hall to the Grand Staircase.

“Easier to get away?” Levi suggested, looking straight ahead.

Ethan chuckled. “Exactly.”

Chapter Six

I watched as Levi took in his surroundings with a guarded expression. The Vampyre compound was grand yet tasteful—very different from Hell, which was grand and tacky. I’d been in awe the first time I’d seen the Cressida House and that never changed.

The Grand Foyer was impressive. Dark heavy wood gave it a masculine feel, but the huge crystal chandeliers and exquisite floral arrangements in sparkling cut-glass bowls kept it from being too manly. The rugs were handmade, and I knew that just one cost more than my college education. The curtains were a thick brocade and fell like water from windows that were over fifteen feet high. Of course, that was nothing compared to all the real Picassos, Rembrandts, Degas and Monets hanging on the plaster walls.

While it felt like my home now, I was aware of the opulence. If my brother had an opinion, he kept it to himself.

“Please tell me this place has a gym,” Levi said.

“Yep,” I replied. “There’s a gym, a fight training center, a movie theater, and a bowling alley. I’d be happy to kick your butt at bowling and then duke it out in the training center.”

Levi stiffened then his face went blank. “As you wish,” he replied tonelessly.

I closed my eyes and wanted to rip my own head off. I’d just thrown down the gauntlet. Levi thought I was no different than all the others who had tried to destroy him.

“You can punch back,” I said quickly. “Hard. I’m really tough.”

“I don’t particularly enjoy hitting girls. Not my thing,” he said, looking straight ahead.

“I’m not a girl,” I insisted, wanting his snarky side to come back. “I’m your sister. I don’t count as a girl.”

Ethan watched the exchange and stepped in. “Astrid is an excellent sparring partner. She is as skilled as any male—more so. She is also fair and compassionate. I believe you could learn from each other.”

Levi shrugged. He had closed off. It made me want to cry. However, crying would not be the smartest move since my tears were blood. It would be all kinds of embarrassing to have a blood-stained face in front of people who wanted to see me fail… Speaking of. “Will there be undead press here?”

“Possibly. The guards have been given instructions to keep them out, but they’re like cockroaches,” Ethan said, still watching Levi. “Regardless, ignore them. They’re assholes.”

“Fuck,” I muttered under my breath.

Levi glanced over. “What?”

“Nothing,” I said. “I just hate the Vampyre rag magazines and the feeling is mutual.”

He nodded curtly and said nothing more.

We stood outside of the massive door to the Grand Ballroom and waited for our entrance.

“Feeling wanky,” I said, bouncing on my toes and making sure my black Prada cocktail dress was pristine and my crown was securely on my head. The seventy-five or so Vamps who lived at the compound liked me—or at least respected me. However, I was sure there would be many in attendance who did not.

“Why wanky?” Levi inquired, giving me a side glance. “You’re wearing a damn crown. Doesn’t that just say it all?”

“Up yours,” I snapped. “It’s for good luck. I’m about to enter a room where most of the inhabitants want me dead.”

“Call me crazy,” Levi shot back, “but as far as I can tell, you already are.”

“Not helping,” I hissed.

“Not trying,” he replied. “How am I doing with that?”

“Fantastic,” I shot back with a grin, happy his rudeness was back.

“Enough, unless you want everyone to hear you. We’re dealing with Vampyre hearing,” Ethan reminded both of us. “We’ll be announced when we enter. After the applause, we will go directly to the throne. Our guests will be presented to us.”

“Over the top much?” Levi muttered.

I actually agreed, but I was on Ethan’s side here. Not my dicky brother’s.

“Umm… do we knock?” I asked.

“No,” Ethan said, winking at me. “We wait.”

We hadn’t hosted a formal royal gathering yet. The members of Ethan’s family who I knew, I adored. They were easy and loving—and deadly, but that was a given in our world. This new twist was going to give me hives. I was a very un-princess-y Princess. Hell, several years ago I was a human art teacher to senior citizens. Royalty wasn’t my thing. However, Ethan was my thing, and I would die for him. Lots of baggage came with the deal, but it was a small price to pay for unconditional love… and insanely amazing sex.

Plus, having my asshat of a brother narrating my insecurities wasn’t helping.

Maybe I shouldn’t have worn the crown. It was a bit much. It felt as if I was playing a role that didn’t quite fit.

Maybe I could hide it in a potted plant…

The doors swung open and hundreds of pairs of eyes turned expectantly.

Crap. Too late.

My stomach clenched, but I plastered a smile on my face and held my obnoxiously jeweled head high. I was more powerful than anyone in the room. They knew it and I knew it. However, I still felt like the outsider at the cool kids’ party.

“Holy shit,” Levi muttered with a laugh. “This is apparently the place to be.”

“Or not,” I said, discreetly elbowing him. “You’re one Demon amongst about four hundred undead. Not good odds for you.”

“Not worried,” he replied easily. “My little sister will protect me.”

My stomach danced with happy butterflies at his words. I glanced over at him to see if he was serious. I wasn’t sure. Levi had his bored game face on. However, he was correct. I would incinerate anyone who messed with him. I was already unpopular. I may as well cement my reputation by defending a Demon.

“The Prince and Princess have arrived,” a kiss-ass, uppity Vamp who I didn’t recognize announced. “I present to you Ethan, Vampyre Prince of the North American Dominion, and Astrid, Vampyre Princess of the North American Dominion.”

“Astrid is also the Chosen One,” Ethan reminded the bloodthirsty assemblage.

All bowed their heads in reverence. Levi snickered. I flipped him off while the Vamps’ eyes were lowered. Ethan shot both of us a look.

“And your guest?” the Vamp inquired, raising his head and staring with barely disguised disgust at Levi.

If the dead man lived here, he would be finding a new residence and job very soon. No one was going to make my brother feel less than.

“Wrangler,” Levi said before Ethan or I could get a word out. “Lord Wrangler Tough Skins.”

Ethan’s eyes grew wide for a millisecond. I bit down on my lip so I wouldn’t laugh. Levi kept beating me at my own game. Truth be told, he was kicking my undead ass. Second truth… I wasn’t bothered one little bit.

The Vampyre who announced us looked terribly confused and glanced at Ethan for confirmation.

“You heard the man,” Ethan said in an icy tone, which made the Vampyre pale. “Announce him.”

“Yes, yes, of course, my Liege,” the pompous asshat stuttered. “Accompanying the Prince and Princess is umm… Lord Wrangler Tough Skins.”

The smattering of applause was punctuated by shocked whispers. Lord Wrangler grinned and nodded to the masses. It took everything I had to look royal and sophisticated as we made our way into the room. My Jimmy Choo stilettos clicked and echoed on the marble floor. I made eye contact with no one as Ethan took my arm and led the way. Lord Dummy Head Dungarees followed behind. Even though I couldn’t see him, I was very aware he was still grinning. His amusement with himself was delightful to me and calmed my nerves.

For a moment, I wondered if that was why Levi had done it. No. Wishful thinking wasn’t going to get me anywhere fast. I was fairly sure the Demon didn’t hate me—he just didn’t like me… yet.

When I was determined, I didn’t lose.

“Do we sit or stand?” I whispered to Ethan. “And does the dude at the door work here?”

“We do what we want,” he said under his breath, acknowledging the guests who were bowing to us. “And yes, he’s a new member of the Cressida House.”

“Am I to join you?” Levi inquired from behind. “Might not be the best plan.”

“Stay to the left of the dais,” Ethan instructed. “Near enough to Astrid to deflect anyone who gets too close.”

“Roger that,” Levi said.

I glanced up at Ethan and rolled my eyes. “I’m capable of defending myself,” I reminded him tightly. “I’m pretty unkillable—basically a walking death machine.”

“As am I,” Levi chimed in. “Doesn’t stop the stupid from wanting to have a go at me.”

“Exactly,” Ethan agreed.

The crowd parted as we made our way across the Grand Ballroom. The opulence of the foyer paled in comparison to the ballroom. Vampyres were definitely over the top. The sheer amount of crystal, priceless art, designer gowns and expensive jewels in the room was absurd. The fact that I didn’t recognize most in attendance was unnerving. Although, they seemed more curious than judgmental.

“Where did all these dead people come from?” I asked Ethan mentally as we stepped up onto the dais and stood in front of our thrones. I was seriously hesitant to sit on it after my dream. Having my ass glued to an oversized velvet chair wasn’t my idea of a good time. “Are they local?”

Mind speak was a nifty trick we had as mates. It would certainly come in handy this evening.

“All over North America,” he said. “A royal tour is rare. Hasn’t been one in a few centuries.”

I did spot my buddy Paris Hilton in the crowd. She was with others from the Cressida House. They waved and blew kisses. I grinned and waved back. However, the unknown far outweighed the known at this gathering.

“Where are your brother and sister?” I asked, scanning the crowd for a man and a woman who resembled my mate.

Wilhem and Anastasia wouldn’t necessarily look like Ethan. While the royal children shared the same father, they had different mothers. Back in the day, it was normal for a King to have many wives. Thankfully we were no longer back in the day. That would not have worked for me. Sharing Ethan wasn’t going to happen. I was the possessive type. Ethan was worse than I was. Our obsession with each other was intense.

“They’ll be announced shortly.”

“Is Lord Idiot safe in here? While he’s a complete dick, I’d like to have a chance to get to know my brother and force him to like me. I’m extremely likable. And we still don’t know why Uncle Fucker sent him.”

“No one is stupid enough to go at a guest of mine in my presence,” Ethan assured me. “It would be the very last thing they did.”

“If anyone goes for Wrangler Asshat, they’re mine. While I understand it might not be good form to decapitate company, I’m prepared to do it. I don’t think Blue Jean Snarky Butthole has had it easy. From now on, I have his obnoxious back,” I told Ethan. “And speaking of backs… I wouldn’t mind throwing you on yours and riding you like a cowboy after the party.”

“Excuse me,” Levi chimed in, causing me to almost fall off the dais in shock. “I can hear you. So, you might want to cut back on the nicknames and the cowboy obsession. Not to mention, I can take care of myself. I do not need a dead girl wearing a crown running to my rescue.”

“Shitballs,” I internally squealed. “It’s not possible for you to hear me. Can you hear Ethan too?”

“Yep—the impossible is always possible. Do not forget that,” Levi said. “You’re the loudest fucking thinker and talker I have ever come across. It’s incredibly annoying.”

“Ethan,” I hissed, keeping a smile on my face for the crowd. “Denim Jackhole Face can hear us.”

“Caught that—rather inconvenient,” he replied dryly. “I’d suggest you keep it nonsexual. Might get uncomfortable.”

“Please,” Levi said with a moan of disgust. “There’s only so much a Demon can take.”

“You really are an assbag,” I told him.

“Your point?” Levi asked.

“No point. Simply a very accurate observation.”

“Nicely played,” Levi congratulated me. “I do believe your guests of honor have arrived.”

He was correct. At the entrance of the ballroom were three of the most beautiful Vampyres I’d ever seen. Wilhem was tall, broad and darkly handsome. His tux was impeccably cut, and he reeked of power. His eyes went immediately to his brother. He nodded and winked. Wilhem’s gaze landed on me next, and he gave me a friendly nod of respect. I returned the greeting.

Maybe he wasn’t as much of an asshole as described.

The one I guessed to be his gal pal, due to the fact she had barnacled herself to the Vampyre in an act of ownership, had chocolate-brown hair, lovely pale skin and piercing green eyes. Her Chanel dress was the same green as her eyes. She had an unusual scar running from the side of her left eye to the corner of her full lips. On anyone else it would look unfortunate, but not her. It somehow made her more mysterious and alluring… and fragile.

“Uh oh,” I said. “Wilhem’s consort is a girly girl.”

“Looks that way,” Ethan agreed. “He tends to go for the helpless damsels in distress.”

The woman was small in stature, but that meant nothing. I’d seen Vamps smaller than her do extreme damage.

“Means he has a small dick,” Levi interjected.

I literally choked on my spit trying not to laugh. Ethan didn’t hold back and just let it rip. He received a few strange glances, but he was the Vampyre Prince. He could do whatever the hell he wanted. Many joined in on his laughter with no clue why.

“Are you going to narrate the shitshow with inappropriate comments all night?” I asked Lord Wrangler Tough Skins.

“Yes.”

“Mmkay, good to know,” I replied. Honestly, I was glad. It would make the evening go much faster.

I wasn’t crazy about women who didn’t hold their own, but Wilhem’s gal pal wasn’t my problem. She was Ethan’s brother’s problem. And hopefully they wouldn’t be staying long.

However, it was Anastasia who I found the most riveting. She scanned the crowd and rolled her eyes. I wanted to laugh but figured I’d save it. She was as blonde as Ethan and had blazingly bright sapphire-blue eyes. Her lips were full, and her cheekbones could cut glass. Anastasia stood about six feet tall in her heels and had a knockout figure. I coveted her hot pink Dolce and Gabbana dress. The gorgeous Vampyre clearly didn’t suffer fools if her attitude was anything to go by. Ethan’s earlier assessment was correct. I already knew I was going to like Anastasia.

The uppity Vampyre announcer stood next to the trio and cleared his throat. “I present to you Wilhem, Prince of the South American Dominion, and Anastasia, Princess of the Australian Dominion.”

The guests applauded politely.

The gal pal pinched Wilhem’s arm and hissed something in his ear. He patted her hand and basically ignored her. Apparently, she wasn’t getting the royal treatment she thought she deserved and wasn’t pleased. She then turned her ire on the announcer and hissed something at him. The Vampyre shrugged politely, shook his head helplessly and bowed to her.

“Interesting,” I said. “Guess the consort doesn’t merit an intro. Nice of Dead Door Dude to try and smooth it over before she loses her shit.”

“None of that bodes well,” Ethan said with a chuckle. “While Wilhem is an asshole, he’s quite proper. If the woman wasn’t introduced, it was on purpose. He’s probably going to ditch her.”

“Not here, he’s not,” I muttered.

“Oh my God,” the nameless woman hanging off of Wilhem’s arm cried out in distress, pointing at the dais and behaving as if she was about to faint—which was ridiculous, since Vamps didn’t faint. “Why is there a Demon present? This is not right.”

Great. She was an undead, Demon-phobic drama queen.

“I really don’t like her,” I muttered as I stepped forward. “Oh shit,” I yelled back. “Are you serious? Where?”

“There,” she said, looking at me like I’d lost my mind. “Next to you.”

“Oh!” I said, slapping my forehead. “That’s just Lord Wrangler Tough Skins. He’s the entertainment. He’ll be stripping later. You should grab a lap dance ticket. I hear he’s quite well hung.”

“I will get you back for that,” Levi said, laughing.

“Good luck trying. I’m really good at being bad. Just ask Uncle Fucker,” I replied, keeping my eyes on the girly girl. She was appalled by my behavior.

The room of North American Vamps, who I believed didn’t like me much, tittered with laughter, enjoying the game being played. Or more possibly they thought I was about to kick some ass and were excited. Bloodshed at Vampyre gatherings was normal and welcome.

Wilhem’s consort appeared confused. “I am quite serious,” she insisted, glancing around wildly at the amused and unconcerned assemblage. “What kind of Royal Palace lets Demons roam freely?”

“Well, let me enlighten you,” I said, stepping off the dais and crossing the room so quickly, the human eye couldn’t have followed. Circling the trio, I stopped right in front of my target.

All four hundred in the room murmured and leaned forward in anticipation. I was going to disappoint them greatly. I had no intention of smacking down physically on the woman who was pooping on my party. However, I was always good for a verbal dressing down when the occasion arose.

And the occasion had arisen.

The Demon in question was my blood. And even if he wasn’t, the intruder had no place questioning customs of other Dominions. While I was quite sure that there were those here who agreed with her, they were too smart to express it in front of Ethan or me.

Centuries of division between species had caused toxic distrust. However, the time had come to erase that. All of us were deadly, but some of us were deadly and nice. An oxymoron, but true.

“The Cressida House is a really fun place!” I said, using my high school cheerleader voice. I was half tempted to do a herkie jump, but I’d tried that a few years back and it had ended badly. Plus, I was wearing four-inch stilettos and a form-fitted Prada sheath. It would suck to rip it. “My name is Astrid. I was already announced, since I run this joint with the hot dude up on the throne. Actually, I’m banging him. You’re in the North American Dominion now, whatever your name is. Look around. We’re a diverse group.”

“My name is Catriona,” the woman said, paling and bowing her head to me. “Please pardon my outburst. It was out of line.”

I didn’t believe a word of her apology but nodded politely. “Not to worry, Carolinainnia,” I said sweetly as Anastasia choked back a laugh at my butchering of the woman’s name. “We don’t discriminate here. And since I am half Demon, it’s quite normal to see many different species in our midst—Fairies, Demons, Sprites. Even Mother Nature has been known to pop in for a pole dance. You feel me?”

Her eyes grew wide with shock. She glanced at Wilhem to save her. He didn’t move a muscle—didn’t even acknowledge her. This was going to be a very long night.

“I understand, Your Royal Highness,” she said, bowing again.

“Excellent,” I replied, glancing at Ethan’s brother and sister, who were sizing me up. “Welcome to the Cressida House. Let’s get this party started.”

“And over with,” Anastasia said, taking my arm and walking us toward a grinning Ethan.

“That too,” I said with a chuckle.

I was definitely going to like Anastasia.

Chapter Seven

The layout of the dais had expanded once the guests of honor had arrived. Wilhem was seated to Ethan’s right with Catriona on the end. I was next to Ethan and Anastasia was on my other side. Lord Wrangler was a few feet away to the left of Anastasia. Our backs were to the wall for safety. No one could come up from behind and that was fine by me. While the party was formal and polite, it would be unwise to forget we were in a roomful of predators who adored violence.

One by one, the Vamps paid their respects.

“Chosen One, I am Count Vincent Gustav of Bat Cave, North Carolina. My friends call me Vinnie. It is a tremendous, life-altering pleasure and honor to be in your presence.” The bizarre Vampyre bowed so low, his forehead touched the marble floor. He wore a black cape with a massive diamond clip at the neck. His skin was so pale it was almost translucent, and his eyes were jet black. There was very little color about him at all. Other than the cape, Vinnie was the most nondescript dead person I’d met to date. It was somewhat creepy, but I didn’t get bad vibes from the man—just strange and kind of sad.

“Is Bat Cave a real town?” I asked.

“Oh yes, Your Majesty.” Vinnie nodded enthusiastically and clasped his hands in front of him like he was praying. “I amuse myself by moving to areas with unique names. I have resided in Ding Dong, Texas, and Hot Coffee, Mississippi.”

“Shut the front door,” I said with a laugh.

“I dare you to ask him if he’s ever lived in Booger Hole, West Virginia,” Levi suggested with a laugh that made him sound like a fourth-grade human boy.

“Shut up,” I hissed… and then reconsidered. The idiot, Lord Wrangler Tough Skins, had dared me. I was not going to pass up a dare from my brother. I didn’t care how unroyal it was. Plus, Vinnie seemed to have a sense of humor.

“Have you put roots down in Booger Hole, West Virginia, by any chance?” I asked Vinnie with a wide grin as my brother chuckled, Anastasia giggled, and several pompous Vamps gasped at my common-ness.

“Ohhhhh, it’s on my list,” Vinnie assured me with a smile that revealed his fangs. “Your knowledge of the obscure is enchanting, Princess.”

He was sweet in a very oddball way.

“Well, Vinnie, thank you and please call me Astrid,” I said, tilting my head and wondering why he thought a black cape was a good fashion choice. He obviously didn’t have any good friends. Friends didn’t let friends wear floor-length black capes to parties. Although, I had to give it to him. It took a confident dead dude to work the heinous look. “I look forward to hearing more about your strange towns obsession.”

Vinnie swished his cape and laughed. He sounded like a choking baby bird. “I would love to host you and Prince Ethan in my home,” he gushed. “I have a large collection of mugs and refrigerator magnets from the peculiar places I’ve lived. I believe you would quite enjoy them.”

“I’m sure I would,” I told him with a smile.

“Pretty sure Vinnie the Vamp is hitting on you,” Levi pointed out.

“Shut your pie hole,” I shot back. “He’s not hitting on me. He also invited Ethan, dork face. And at least he’s interesting.”

“You need to get out more if you find Vinnie interesting.”

“Fine,” I told Lord Buttinski. “You and I will go out tomorrow and have a brother-sister day.”

“Fuck,” Levi choked out. “That is not what I meant at all.”

“Too bad. So sad,” I said. “Now put a cork in it or I’ll make you really sorry and spend every waking minute with you until we figure out how to get rid of you.”

“You’ve already made me fucking sorry,” Levi muttered.

“May I be so bold as to ask a question?” Vinnie inquired, wringing his hands in excitement.

I shrugged. “Sure.” Everyone else was so uptight and proper, Vinnie the walking and talking undead cliché was refreshing.

“Do you prefer your blood on the rocks or room temp?” he asked.

“Dude, is that a joke?” I asked, squinting at him.

He looked crushed and fussed a bit with his cape. “Umm… no,” he said, leaning in and lowering his voice. “You see, I’m nine hundred years old. Living as long as I have has gotten quite tedious. It’s difficult to find reason and meaning most days. So, I was thinking of opening a bottled blood company and using the proceeds to save puppies. I’ve been canvasing the assemblage as to their temperature preference for blood. Thus far, all I have received is disdain and mockery. I’m not sure they like puppies.”

While I was pretty sure a bottled blood business wouldn’t fly, it pissed me off that Vinnie was being treated like crap. He was a freak. I loved freaks. I was a freak. And I adored puppies. His cape made him a target… just like me. I mean, I was dressed a whole hell of a lot better than Vinnie, but I was definitely a target.

“That’s just bullshit,” I muttered. “Hang on a sec, Vinnie.”

“Ethan, do you like and trust Vinnie the cape dude?” I asked, adjusting my crown to buy a few moments.

Ethan was in the middle of a conversation with a couple who were going on about the merits of defanging prisoners. I was very happy to be talking to a Vamp who loved puppies, and not them. Ethan’s eyes stayed on the bloodthirsty couple, but his attention was mine.

“Vincent is unusual and eccentric,” he said. “But yes, I trust him. He’s a lonely old man and I’ve invited him many times to join us at the Cressida House. He always declines. He’s more of a wanderer. Why do you ask? Has he been rude?”

“Not at all,” I said quickly and then had a horrible thought. “Do you think he eats puppies?”

“Umm… no. I don’t think he eats puppies. Where on earth did you get that idea?”

“Nowhere. Forget I said it. Do you mind if I raise Vinnie in the esteem of the others who are treating him like a piece of poop?”

“Not at all,” Ethan replied. “Invite him to stay. That will do the trick.”

I had a little more in mind than that, but it was an outstanding idea.

“Count Vincent Gustav,” I said, using my outdoor voice so everyone would hear. “You are simply brilliant! I would love to hear more about your bottled blood company and the proceeds going to charity.”

“You would?” Vinnie asked, so delighted he began to bounce on his toes, making his cape flutter.

“Yes, I would,” I continued. “And if it doesn’t disrupt your plans, Ethan and I would like to invite you to stay for a few days and talk about investing in your proposal.”

“You would?” Vinnie squealed, repeating himself.

“We would,” I said, placing my hand on Ethan’s arm.

Ethan looked a bit confused but went right along with it. “Did you just promise him that we were investing in a bottled blood company?” he asked.

“I did,” I admitted sheepishly. “I might have gone a little far, but Vinnie saves puppies.”

“Of course, he does,” Ethan replied dryly then nodded at the ecstatic Vinnie. “Count Vincent Gustav, I would be delighted to have you as a guest and discuss your scheme.”

Vinnie bowed low and his entire body trembled with pride. “Thank you, my Liege. Thank you.”

Vinnie wandered off on cloud nine. He was now the most popular man in the Grand Ballroom aside from Ethan. I felt awesome. The evening was turning out better than expected.

However, the night had only just begun.

The mood went back to being as formal as the outfits worn by the undead. The reception line was long, and after the fun chat with Vinnie, my new puppy-saving, undead business partner, the rest of the conversations went in one ear and flew out of the other. Realizing I was repeating myself, I tried to change it up, but there were only so many ways to “say lovely to meet you” and “no, I’d rather not show you my fangs.” I was bored. Keeping a lid on my potty mouth for three hours was excruciating.

There was rabid curiosity about me and my crown. I was never wearing the damn thing in public again—only to get laid. After the umpteenth envious comment about the cut of the diamonds, I realized that Anastasia, Wilhem and Ethan were crown-free. I was the only dumb-dumb showing off. They were born into royalty. I was not. Mimicking the way Anastasia sat with her back ramrod straight and her legs artfully angled to the side, I smiled politely and tried not to fall asleep.

“You’re killing it,” Anastasia whispered.

“At least I’m not killing them,” I said, nodding to a group who gossiped viciously while waiting their turn to bow and kiss our undead asses.

“I’d call that a win,” she replied with a laugh. “Just don’t fall asleep. The tabloids will have a heyday with a passed-out Vampyre Princess. Trust me, I’ve been there.”

“Fuck,” I muttered, scanning the crowd to see if anyone was taking notes or sketching me wearing a crown. “Are they here?”

“They’re always at royal engagements,” Anastasia confirmed, wrinkling her nose. “However, they’re quite secretive about their identity.”

“Probably a good thing since beheading isn’t on the agenda this evening.”

Anastasia glanced over and grinned. “Ethan did good. Raquel assured me I would I love you. She said you were a lot of fun, extremely deadly, no-nonsense and knew your way around a good cuss word.”

“Feeling’s mutual—for you and Raquel. Ethan has excellent taste in sisters,” I replied with a giggle. “After everyone leaves, I’ll let it rip. Although, Carolinainnia might get her panties in a wad.”

Anastasia’s eye roll was so dang good I was jealous. That was twice today I was out-eye rolled. First my brother and now my sister-in-law.

“She can bite my undead butt,” she whispered so the Vampyre in question wouldn’t overhear. “She’s a simpering idiot. I don’t know what Wilhem sees in her. She must be good in bed.”

I glanced over at the consort, still clinging to Wilhem like he would disappear if she let go. Maybe he would. If he left her behind, I’d remove all of his limbs. Of course, they’d grow back, but I wasn’t in the mood to deal with a whiny pain in the ass. “I’m gonna lay down a hundred bucks she’s all missionary and squeaks like a mouse during sex.”

Anastasia nodded and chuckled. “I’ll raise you a hundred and say she likes the lights off.”

“I’d take that bet, except, I really don’t want to know if either of us is correct,” I told her. “Do you?”

“Hell to the no,” she said with a slight gag. “In fact, the visual is so disturbing, I think I need a shower.”

Our conversation was cut short when Ethan glanced over at us with a raised brow. Whoops. I always forgot how well Vamps could hear. Leaning over, I kissed his cheek. “Your sister rocks.”

“Yes, she does,” he agreed, then turned his focus back to his loyal subjects.

Lord Wrangler Tough Skins didn’t utter a single word the entire time. He stood next to the dais with his arms folded over his broad chest and eyed the crowd menacingly. He completely ignored the guests of honor. His rudeness was expected yet made him all the more mysterious. Especially to the ladies.

For having an issue with Demons, ole Catriona couldn’t seem to take her eyes off my brother.

“How much longer?” Anastasia whispered to Ethan as Vampyre after Vampyre approached the throne to bow and pay their respects.

“I will end the reception shortly,” Ethan promised, much to my relief.

I kept shifting in my throne to make sure my butt wasn’t glued to it. With the Zombie part of my dream coming to fruition, I had no idea what else was in store.

“Uncomfortable?” Anastasia inquired with a lopsided grin that reminded me of Ethan.

“Just making sure my ass doesn’t become one with the velvet,” I explained.

“Is that a joke?” she asked.

“I wish,” I muttered, then changed the subject. “So, do you have a kangaroo or a koala?”

“For the love of everything stereotypical, did you really just ask that?” Levi inquired in my mind.

I was going to kick his ass so hard later. Terrified that I would answer him while I was chatting with Anastasia, I tried to block him out. Sadly, my brother was as loud as I was. The DNA was strong.

“Shut your cakehole,” I hissed. “If you fuck me up, I will shave your head while you sleep.”

“I don’t sleep,” Levi informed me with a chuckle. “But five points for creativity.”

Anastasia observed me curiously for a moment and then shrugged. “Nope. No kangaroos. No koalas and no accent,” she said. “However, if you’d like to visit Australia, you’ll find all of that and more in my Dominion.”

“Sorry,” I said with a sheepish grin. “That was an incredibly lame question. I’ve just never seen a real kangaroo.”

“Seriously?” Levi shouted in my head. “You were human not even a few years ago. Have you never been to a damn zoo?”

“Of course, I’ve been to the zoo, you sphincter lizard,” I snapped, then slapped my hand over my mouth. “Fuck. I said that out loud.”

Anastasia nodded and grinned. “You most certainly did. I’m going to hazard a guess that you’re mind chatting with the heinously named Demon to my left?”

I grimaced and doubled down on my threat to get Levi back. “Yes. Lord Wrangler Tough Skins will be stripping shortly. When I hired him, I was led to believe he was well hung, but…”

“Enough!” Levi yelled. “You won. Do not start waxing poetic about my dick or insulting it.”

Anastasia looked over at Levi, who simply glared back at her. She raised a perfectly plucked brow and blew him a kiss. He returned the greeting with a raised middle finger. The beautiful Vamp threw her head back and laughed. Levi grunted in disgust and went back to ignoring us.

“Don’t think he’ll be talking in your head any more this evening,” Anastasia said. “I think discussing his dong size hurt his little feelings… or hurt his little dong.”

“It’s enormous,” Levi huffed. “I’m done here. There’s only so much ridicule my dick can take.”

“You started it,” I reminded him as he strode across the Grand Ballroom toward the foyer. Many lustful female eyes followed his departure. “Talk shit. Get hit.”

“Yep, I’m aware of that, and you stole my line, Princess.”

“Dude,” I called after him. “Turnabout is fair play.”

Without another word, my brother left the room. Whatever. Thankfully, the party was breaking up. The Vampyres had paid their respects and were leaving. It was now four in the morning. I should have taken a damn nap earlier. My new buddy, Vinnie, was being shown to a guest suite and was still floating on cloud nine.

All in all, it was a success.

No bloodshed.

No reporters as far as I could tell.

And my ass wasn’t glued to the throne.

Win. Win.

Chapter Eight

“Your subjects admire you greatly,” Wilhem commented as the last of the party guests departed.

“Most are good people,” Ethan said as he stood and pointed to a more comfortable seating area on the far side of the Grand Ballroom. “It’s late, but why don’t we sit and have a chat, now that we’re alone.”

“Wonderful idea,” Catriona gushed, batting her lashes at my mate. “Your palace is splendid. Much grander than the South American compound.”

The silence was deafening. Her insult to Wilhem’s royal residence was way out of line, and she realized it the moment the words left her mouth. Catriona’s hands fluttered nervously, and she choked out a giggle that fell as flat as her rude observation.

“Yes, well, not all of us are as concerned with appearances like my brother,” Wilhem said sharply.

Ethan’s eyes narrowed dangerously at his brother. I wondered if I was about to witness a sibling smackdown. Anastasia stepped between her brothers and gave Catriona a withering look that made the stupidity of the consort’s statement clear.

“Alrighty then, I’d pull a kangaroo out of my rear end to lighten up the mood, but I forgot to shove one up my ass before the reception,” Anastasia announced. “How about this? I say we all have nice palaces and leave it at that.”

“Works for me,” I said. “However, I would love to see you pull a marsupial out of your butt.”

“Next time,” Anastasia promised with a grin. “Race you across the room?”

Bottom line… I never wanted Anastasia to leave. She was every kind of fabulous and fun and all my besties had moved away. Gemma was in Zanthia leading the Fairies as their Queen. Venus was with Ethan’s brother Gareth, governing the European Dominion. Raquel and Heathcliff were in Europe as well. Initially, Raquel had given her territory to Gareth, but both had decided it was time for Raquel to lead her people again. I still had Paris Hilton and several others who I adored, but Paris insisted on treating me as her superior.

I wanted a friend who would pull a kangaroo out of her ass—a friend who wasn’t impressed and would give me shit.

“You don’t want to race Astrid,” Ethan warned, talking to his sister, but giving his brother one last hard glance. “She’s lightning fast.”

Anastasia’s eyes sparkled with anticipation. “I adore a challenge.”

My grin was so wide, it almost hurt. Anastasia’s skill with defusing the tense atmosphere was excellent. “I will kick your kangaroo-infested butt,” I shot back.

“Try it,” she said.

“Deal. No poofing. We have to run.”

“But of course,” Anastasia said, kicking off her heels.

“That’s weenie,” I pointed out. “I can beat you in stilettos.”

Anastasia’s laugh rang out and her fangs dropped in excitement. “You’re insane.”

“Tell me something I don’t know.”

Ethan rubbed his hands together with glee. “No cheating. No magic and no tripping each other. Winner chooses loser’s punishment. Clear?”

“Yesssssss,” Anastasia said, hopping around and loosening up. “Get ready to lose, Astrid.”

“Get ready to pull a kangaroo and koala out of your rear end, Anastasia,” I countered with a wink.

“Monsters have been created,” Ethan muttered, grinning.

“This is not appropriate behavior,” Catriona huffed, looking to Wilhem for support.

Unsurprisingly, she didn’t get it. They were not the picture of relationship goals.

Her statement was ignored by all. Having such a wet rag as a guest sucked, but I would put up with her happily as long as Anastasia was here.

Wilhem put his hand on Ethan’s back in apology and joined in on the fun, much to the displeasure of Catriona. “On your marks. Get set. GO!”

The wind we created as we sprinted across the ballroom wrenched the silk curtains from their rods and sent the thrones flying through the air. The speed at which we moved rendered us invisible, but I could hear my sister-in-law screaming with joy.

The race was over before it began.

We tied and landed in a tangled heap, laughing like children.

“Holy shit,” I yelled in shock. “No one has ever tied with me.”

“Me neither,” Anastasia squealed, giving me a high-five. “Rematch?”

“Tomorrow,” Ethan said, striding across the room with Wilhem and his spoilsport date on his heels. “Dawn is about to break. We should retire, but I thought a few minutes of privacy might be welcome.”

“Agreed,” Wilhem said, pulling Anastasia to her feet as Ethan pulled me to mine. “What did I overhear about issues on the West Coast of the United States?”

“Nothing for you to concern yourself with,” Ethan said coolly, brooking no further discussion on the matter from his brother.

Catriona looked disappointed to not be in on the gossip, but that was not going to happen. I was unsure how much Ethan trusted his brother and sister. So far, I’d say Wilhem was not in his inner circle of confidence. Following my mate’s lead was my plan. He knew them far better than I did. However, an outsider who had ulterior motives of bagging a Prince wasn’t going to be taken into anyone’s confidence.

“Excuse me,” the pissy Vampyre announcer from earlier said, poking his head into the room. He was shaking and appeared terrified. “There are two umm… women who insist on an audience with someone called Knockers LaBoobies. I made it very clear that no one by that moniker was present, but they insisted rather forcefully with language I will not repeat. Shall I grant them entrance?”

“Shit,” I muttered with a groan. “What is your name?”

“Walter, my Princess,” he replied with a bow.

“Walter, you may grant the women an audience,” I said, understanding why the man looked scared. Martha and Jane were frightening.

“Very well,” he replied with fear and doubt written all over his pinched face.

“Looks like someone had a mother humpin’ party and forgot to send us an invite,” Martha griped, marching into the room with Jane right behind her. “Dang rude, Ginormous Nubbies.”

They were scratched up and covered in blood. They also had less hair on their heads than they did this morning.

“What the hell?” Anastasia asked under her breath. “What are they?”

“They’re undead nightmares,” I replied. “My undead nightmares.”

“Amazing. I want nightmares like that,” Anastasia said with a laugh.

“You can have them. For free,” I promised, then turned my attention to the old biddies. “Martha and Jane, I didn’t think you’d want to come to a gathering that forbids assless chaps, seeing as how you enjoy exposing your privates.”

The two dummies took in what I said and mulled it over.

“Melon Hooters makes a fine fucking point,” Martha said to Jane, who nodded her agreement.

“Yep, if my bare ass ain’t appreciated, then it would be a shitty party,” Jane announced. “Anyhoo, we brought you a present. It’s up in your room.”

I paled at the thought and Ethan glanced over in concern. “Please tell me it’s not what I think it is.”

“Well,” Martha said, grabbing a chair from a nearby table and straddling it. “Don’t know what ya think it is, Bulbous McBosom. But I know you’re gonna love it.”

“Somehow I doubt that,” I said, picturing a pile of sphincters. “Dumbasses, meet Princess Anastasia, Prince Wilhem and his consort, Carolinainnia—our guests.”

“Catriona,” the woman corrected me tightly.

“Sorry, my bad,” I told her.

Martha hopped off the chair, knocking it to the ground, and Jane waddled up beside her. Both of the dead idiots bowed low. It looked suspiciously like they were taking a dump, but it was the thought that counted. However, when they stood back up, their boob tubes didn’t make the trip. Our guests were treated to fully exposed, saggy old lady torpedoes.

“We are fucking honored to make your acquaintances,” Martha said, saluting everyone.

“Damn straight,” Jane added. “If you need assistance during your stay, we’re here to help. We have a few weeks on our hands before we have to go back to Hell and change diapers. We also sing.”

“No, you don’t,” I said quickly, wiggling my fingers and dressing the imbeciles in parkas that covered every inch of wrinkly skin except their hands and faces.

“We won American Idol,” Martha reminded me, glancing down at her new coat in surprise.

I groaned. “In Zanthia, where everyone is tone-deaf.”

“Don’t see how that matters,” Jane huffed. “I have Simon Cowell on speed dial. I call him every day.”

“Oh my Hell,” I said with an even louder groan. “How has that gone?”

Jane shrugged. “Something is wrong with his phone,” she explained. “Says it’s disconnected.”

“Mmmkay, I will happily supply eye bleach to those who need it,” I told my guests. “And I’d like to suggest we call it a night.”

“I should say so,” Catriona said in a mortally wounded tone. “This is simply appalling.”

Carolinainnia was riding my last undead nerve. Anastasia and Wilhem were wildly amused by the hot messes who had joined the afterparty. A sense of humor went a very long way when you lived forever. I knew Martha and Jane were walking, talking disasters, but they were my disasters. Just like no one could talk smack on my brother, no one could talk smack on my imbeciles either… except for me.

“Very sorry to have offended your delicate sensibilities, Carolinainnia,” I said so politely, she blanched. “We embrace our insane in the North American Dominion. We even celebrate them. In fact, I’m quite sure Martha and Jane would be delighted to introduce you to pole dancing. Or even give you a singing lesson. As long as you brought booty shorts with you, it will work.”

“I don’t own booty shorts,” she whispered, horrified.

“Don’t matter,” Jane said. “We have fucking tons of them that will fit you.”

“And some are clean,” Martha said proudly. “We’ll be at your suite at 10am sharp.”

“Umm… no, no,” Catriona stuttered. “I wouldn’t want to put you out.”

“Everyone wants to put them out… or down,” I said with a smile. “So not to worry.”

“Actually,” Wilhem said, entering the conversation and putting his arm around his gal pal. “I think Catriona will be fine without any lessons. She’s quite accomplished.”

The small Vampyre gave everyone a smug smile and clung to her occasional savior.

“Interesting,” I said to Ethan. “That was an about-face.”

“I would assume he wants to get laid,” he replied, not looking at me.

“Ewww. Your brother is an asshole.”

“I told you that earlier,” Ethan reminded me.

“You were correct.”

“I usually am,” he replied with amusement in his tone.

Biting back a smile was difficult, but doable. I was fairly sure Anastasia was aware Ethan and I were communicating, but she said nothing.

“Your humility is astounding,” I told him.

“So is my dick. Would you like to see it?”

“Alrighty then,” I said in my outdoor voice so no one would misconstrue what I meant. “Time for bed. Now. Big day tomorrow… as far as I know.”

Ethan’s smile was wide. Mine was wider.

Anastasia’s gaze bounced between us. She laughed and punched my arm. “You go, guuurl.”

I winked at her.

I planned to go… all night.

As we exited the Grand Ballroom, I pulled Martha and Jane aside as the others made their way up the stairs.

“Did you locate the rag magazine operations?” I asked quietly.

“Nope, but we found a few reporters hanging out in front of the Cressida House when we got back,” Martha told me.

“Shit,” I muttered, running my hands through my hair. “Is that why you’re bloody? Did you fight with the scumbags?”

It would be incredibly bad form to de-sphincter the reporters—for lack of a more appropriate term—in front of the Cressida House. Sending Martha and Jane to do anything without supervision was a huge mistake.

“Hell to the no. They got away,” Jane said sadly. “We’re a little banged up because when we poofed back, we accidentally landed in the rose garden. Those fucking thorns are sharp. Took us forty minutes to get out.”

“Pretty sure I still have a few spikes up my ass,” Martha said. “Not to mention, we ran into a few barbed-wire fences when we were searchin’ for the sleazy sphincters.”

“And don’t forget we hit a few trees when we tried to fly.”

“Are you freaks serious?” I asked.

“As serious as a fly on shit,” Martha confirmed with a thumbs up.

“Wait,” I said, blocking out all of the visuals. “I thought Lizard was going with you.”

“Nope, Satan sent our man on a mission.”

“To do what?” I asked suspiciously.

“No fucking clue,” Martha answered, scratching her balding head. “We’re just hoping that he comes back soon so we don’t have to bang each other. Gettin’ all bloody makes us horny.”

I stared at them. The words that tumbled from their mouths never failed to leave me speechless… and grossed out.

“KIDDING!” Martha yelled.

“GOTCHA!” Jane shouted, cackling. “I mean, we did crash into trees, barbed-wire fences and we fucked your rose garden up something good, but the rest was just bullshit.”

“Lizard isn’t on a mission?” I asked, pressing the bridge of my nose and doing my best not to set them on fire.

“Nope, that part is true,” Jane said as she and Martha began to waddle away to their suite in the compound. “See ya tomorrow, Chesty McMilkbombs.”

As I watched them walk away, my brain raced. Was my dream pertinent to what was unfolding? Lizard was in my dream and now he was on a mission. Having no clue if it was connected, I moved quickly to the stairs and sprinted up them. Satan knew about my dream. Satan sent Levi to me. Satan sent Lizard on a mission. The puzzle pieces were misshapen, and a ton were missing.

Hell, I didn’t even know if I was working on one puzzle or ten.

Walking directly to the bay window as I entered our suite, I pressed my forehead to the cool glass and watched the sun rise. It blazed red and orange. The sky looked like it was on fire.

Again, I searched for clues.

Again, I found none.

Something was happening. My gut told me so. Maybe a little bit of sleep would clear my head.

“Come to the bedroom, Astrid,” Ethan called out seductively. “I have something to show you.”

Who needed sleep? Not me. Sleep was overrated. Besides, Vampyres didn’t need to sleep for weeks at a time. My need for routine was left over from my human days, and I loved cuddling with my man.

Ethan crooked his finger in invitation.

My smile grew huge, and I pushed all the unknowns to the back of my mind.

“Is it something I’ll like?” I asked, stepping out of my dress and kicking off my shoes.

“I’m going to go with a yes,” he replied.

Ethan was correct. I liked it until the sun rose high in the afternoon sky.

Chapter Nine

Our suite had turned into a war situation room. Three of our top Elite Guards were present and no one was smiling. When I was first turned, I was a member of the Elite Guard. It was the highest honor non-royal Vampyres could have bestowed on them. Those were the easy good old days. Now, I was in charge with my mate. Still good days, just not as easy.

Jax, David and Matthew were armed to the teeth—or rather fangs—and standing by the bay window. Backlit by the afternoon sun, they looked like freaking action movie stars—ridiculously handsome, but very lethal. Maps and computers covered the tables. The sheer number of weapons in the room was surprising—katanas, throwing stars, swords and daggers. However, it was the shotguns that were unusual. Guns did very little harm to the undead. Unless the gun was loaded with enchanted silver bullets and pierced the heart perfectly, a Vamp wouldn’t die. Decapitation was the best method. Wildly unsavory, but foolproof.

“Let me get this straight,” I said, pacing the room and tamping back the magic that was itching to come out and blow something up. I’d dressed for the occasion in fatigues and combat boots… and my crown. Ethan had insisted I wear it because of my Nana’s warning in my dream. The diamond tiara looked absurd with my shit-kickers and camo, but I went with it. “There were ten Zombies?”

“At least,” Ethan said, running his hands through his hair in frustration. “A whole lot of body parts were strewn around, so ten is my best guess.”

“Ten or so Zombies in a movie theater? Watching The Dead Don’t Die and chanting Bill Murray’s name?” I asked, wondering if I was being punked.

“Yep,” Jax said. “It would be too difficult to make shit like that up.”

He had a point. Jax didn’t have much of a sense of humor and rarely made a joke. However, I’d take him as my second in any battle. Jax was smaller than David and Matthew, but he was precise and deadly. He wore his blond hair in a man bun and had a penchant for sporting kilts. He was a badass and could carry it off. The man was loyal and one hell of a warrior. I’d known all three Vamps since I was turned. The men had been instrumental in my learning how to fight, along with The Kev. The Vampyre dearest to my heart, and the one who didn’t give a crap that I was the Chosen One, had perished. I hadn’t been able to save Samuel, but Ethan and I had named our son after him.

“The dust of dead Vampyres was all over the theater,” Matthew grunted.

Matthew was huge and wore his dark hair in a mohawk. If I didn’t know him, I’d turn around the run the other way when I saw him coming. However, I did know him. He was my board game partner. Appearances could be very deceiving. He was brilliant at guessing the killer correctly in Clue every time we played. He also took in every stray cat he found. The last time I was in his suite for game night, I counted eleven.

The fact that Vampyres were into board games and kittens had shocked me in the beginning. Now, I was thrilled. We had game night every Tuesday unless the world was going to Hell… like now.

“Bottom line is this,” Ethan said, sliding a katana into a scabbard at his waist. “There are most likely more Zombies, and we don’t know where they’re coming from. Right now, the problem is on the West Coast, but that could change. Or if we’re lucky, it was an isolated incident—although, I doubt it. What we do know is that they’re killing Vampyres. Not good.”

“And you eliminated them?” I questioned.

“We did,” David replied. David was huge like Matthew, but his red hair and light smattering of freckles made him a little less menacing looking.

Ethan nodded and continued to arm himself. “Magic didn’t work,” he explained tersely. “It was hand to hand. Removal of the head seemed to be the only option.”

“Messy,” Matthew pointed out.

“Understatement,” Jax added.

“Fucking gross,” David said. “We left no evidence. Human authorities are unaware at this point. We mind-wiped the entire area.”

“If humans find out, we have even bigger problems on our hands,” Ethan said. “The secrecy of Immortals is why we can live in plain sight. Going back into the shadows would cause anarchy among our kind.”

Fuck. We were close to anarchy all the freaking time. We didn’t need a bunch of living dead forcing our hand.

“How were they created?” I asked. I knew from the movies that Zombies were created by other Zombies. However, I also knew that the method was most likely bullshit. The movies about Vampyres were hilariously wrong.

“Not a clue,” Ethan answered. “I’ve never come across a Zombie in all my years. Don’t know how to create a Zombie and don’t know who created them.”

I shuddered as I recalled my conversation with Satan. “Well, if you were able to kill them, they were created by Vampyres,” I told the group.

“And you know this, how?” Ethan asked, staring at me in surprise.

“Uncle Fucker,” I explained. “I told him about my dream, and he said the species that creates the Zombies is the only species that can destroy them.”

Ethan sat down and pressed his temples. “Well, I’ll be damned.”

“You already are,” I joked, going for a bit of levity in the unfolding shitshow. It didn’t really land all that well. I should seriously stop telling jokes.

Ethan gave me a weary smile. “Why would my people create Zombies that destroy Vampyres? Makes very little sense.”

“Are we sure it’s our own people?” I asked.

“We are not,” Ethan admitted. “We’re trying to keep a lid on it until we learn more. However, word has already spread. I was queried about it many times last evening.”

“What did you say?” I asked, sitting down next to him.

“That it is being taken care of,” he replied flatly.

“Wait. Wouldn’t someone know if a bunch of Vamps went missing?” I asked.

“Excellent point,” Ethan said, keying in on his men. “Check in with the West Coast generals and get the names of anyone in their area that has disappeared.”

Ethan was the Vampyre Prince of all of North America. However, North America was large, and he had assigned regional generals to deal with everyday issues. We dealt with the big issues, and this one was big.

The loud bang on the door jarred me, and I almost blew up the entire room. Slapping my sparking hands down on the table, I closed my eyes and counted to ten. Being on edge wasn’t going to help anyone.

“Hey!” Martha shouted from the hallway. “We have a fucking problem, Jugs LaChiChis.”

My chin dropped to my chest. I groaned dramatically. Dealing with the rag magazines right now was low on the priority list. I was sure I’d gotten raked over the coals, but Ethan was right. Since there was very little I could do about them, ignoring the tabloids was my new plan of action.

Matthew grinned. As much as Martha and Jane drove everyone nuts, the Vampyres loved them. Plus, in battle, the old biddies were insane. “Should I let them in?”

“Yep,” I said, noticing the elaborately wrapped gift box on the side table next to the leather couch. If it was full of sphincters, I didn’t want to know. They were getting their mystery box back. “They’ll just keep bitching and whining until we do.”

With a curt nod, Matthew let the imbeciles in.

“Lookin’ fiiiine, Matthew,” Martha said, slapping his ass, much to his amusement, then turning to me. “LaBomba Nuggets, you’re not gonna be happy.”

“Nope,” Jane agreed, waving at everyone.

They had dressed particularly heinously today—rainbow-sequined leggings and tiger-striped jogging bras. Of course, the ever-present black socks and sandals remained. If I could still get human maladies, my head would be pounding.

“Change of plans,” I said, trying to ignore the pile of magazines Martha held and sticking to my new pledge of paying no attention to the rags. “We have issues that far outweigh insulting drawings and bullshit articles.”

I raised my hand to burn the rags, but Martha hid them behind her back. “Not so fast. You gotta see this crap.”

“Nope,” I said. “I’m not looking at it.”

Jane walked over to Jax and peeked under his kilt. Jax threw his hands in the air and laughed at the idiot’s boldness. She grinned from ear to ear and gave the deadly Vampyre a thumbs up. “You’re gonna make some dead gal very happy with that monster salami, boy,” she crowed.

“Martha. Jane,” Ethan ground out. His tone wiped the smiles off of both women’s faces fast. “We’re in the middle of a meeting. Unless you have something of pertinence to add, you are dismissed.”

The old gals exchanged wary glances. I fully expected them to leave. I couldn’t have been more wrong.

“Since you don’t wanna see it, we’ll just tell you about it,” Martha announced, taking a seat on the couch next to what I assumed was the gift-wrapped box of buttholes. “You didn’t make the cover of any of them this time, Gazongas,” she reported.

“Well, that’s a fucking relief,” I muttered.

“On page two they said that you’re gonna let Demons overrun Vampyre society and that your tax laws are bullshit.”

“They used the word bullshit?” Jax asked, surprised.

“Nah,” Jane said, slapping Martha in the head. “Martha likes to spice it up. The exact wording was ‘inexcusable for a newly turned Vampyre to impose law on those who are centuries old’.”

I rolled my eyes. That was nothing new. The greed and distrust of many of the undead knew no boundaries. “Not a shocker,” I said flatly. “Doesn’t bother me a bit.”

Jane grabbed a magazine and added to the insult list. “Said that Princess Anastasia and the regal consort Catriona had better posture than you.”

“Whatever,” I said, thinking they finally got something right.

Jane scratched her mostly bald head. “I’m gonna disagree with that one. Big Boobs has terrific posture.”

“Mmmkay,” I said with a pained laugh. “Thank you.” As always, I would take a compliment even if the source was questionable and insane. “Is that it?”

“Hell to the no,” Jane said, scanning the article. “Those fuckers said you have no right to wear the crown.”

“I disagree,” Martha chimed in. “You rock that hardware.”

Jane kept reading. “You’re too common to rule.”

“Again, horseshit,” Martha said. “They just know you can kick their uppity assholes, Moobags DeLactaters.”

Martha’s defense of me was actually sweet if the term of endearment was removed.

“Crown was crooked,” Jane read.

“She was working a look. Screw those jealous mother humpers,” Martha said, flipping the magazine off.

Jane nodded and hocked a loogie on the page she was reading. It was enough to make me gag. Jane simply read around it and continued. “Agreed. The asshats also said that you bewitched the Prince with your Demon magic.”

Ethan laughed and winked at me. “Guess I’m the lucky one.”

I couldn’t love the man more.

“Oh, and your dress was boring.”

“I’m sorry, what?” I asked.

“Umm… they said your dress was boring,” Jane repeated.

There was only so much a dead gal who loved fashion could take.

“Excuse me,” I hissed, walking to the far side of our expansive suite. Everyone ducked for cover. They were smart. With a string of curse words that would have made a sailor proud, I slashed my hand through the air and blew up the entertainment console. The icy blue sparks as the big-screen TV melted were wildly satisfying. I considered blowing out the side wall, but since we had guests and a Zombie problem, I decided to refrain. I’d release the rest of my tension in the fight training room shortly.

“Impressive,” Jane congratulated me.

“Thank you,” I replied. “If that’s all, you can leave.”

“We’re not goin’ anywhere,” Martha said as her fangs dropped. She placed the individual magazines in a line on the table with the covers facing up. “You’re gonna need some deranged backup with a talent for sphincter removal, and we’re the sexy gals for the job.”

Every cover was similar—Dead Buzz, the Daily Fang, the Bloody Times and the National Dhampir. Each had a drawing of Ethan that wasn’t nearly as insulting as the pictures they’d drawn of me, but the headlines were the worst ones I’d ever seen. “Off With His Head”, “Weak Prince Must Go”, “The Monarchy Is Dead—Let’s Finish The Job”, “Not Fit To Rule”.

“What the fuck?” I growled.

Ethan stood as still as a statue. It was terrifying. His fury vibrated throughout the room, making it difficult to think. Jax’s, Matthew’s and David’s fangs dropped, and they began grabbing more weapons even though they were already armed. As Ethan began to pace, I grabbed Dead Buzz and read the article. There was just enough truth to the stories to know that we had a mole in the Palace, or at least a mole at the party last night.

“Someone at the reception talked to the rags,” I said.

“Enlighten me,” Ethan ground out. “I need to walk off the urge to behead a whole lot of people.”

“Got it.” I scanned the article. “There’s a description of what all of us were wearing at the party, and it was noted that we’re investing in bottled blood.” I closed my eyes and wanted to decapitate myself. This was entirely my fault.

“They want me removed because of that? Bottled blood?” Ethan snapped, grabbing one of the rags from the table and reading it.

“Nope,” Martha chimed in. “Two of them say a petition of thousands want you to step down due to the Zombie problem, which is horse shit, since there ain’t no such thing as Zombies.”

“Pardon me,” I said, tossing the magazine aside and aiming my ire at the wall I’d neglected to blow out. Thankfully, my skill level was high, and I only destroyed the wall, leaving the rest of the compound intact.

“Does that mean mother humpin’ Zombies do exist?” Martha whispered from under a chair.

“It does,” I said.

“Holy shee-ot,” Jane grunted, grabbing a sword and a handful of throwing stars. “Guess I know what I’m doing today.”

“Yepperdoodle,” Martha agreed, crawling out from under the chair and filling her old lady handbag with daggers and handguns.

“What the heck do you think you’re doing?” I demanded, taking the throwing stars away from Jane. Her aim was hideous. She’d almost decapitated Martha last time she’d used them. While I often dreamed of decapitating them myself, it was never going to happen. Protecting them from each other’s stupidity was a full-time job. Thankfully, they were usually Lizard’s problem. Speaking of… “I’m going to ask you a question, and you’re going to think hard about your answer.”

“Is there a prize?” Jane inquired.

I zapped her. It had to be done.

She cackled and slapped out the fire on the back side of her sequined leggings. “Guess that means no.”

“Correct,” I replied. “Tell me about Lizard’s mission. Anything. Even something small that was said.”

Martha shrugged helplessly and my stomach dropped. “We don’t know nothing,” she said.

Jane nodded. “Our hot piece of man meat said Satan wanted him to check something out and he’d be back as soon as he could.”

“Okay,” I said, feeling like a lawyer during cross examination. “Did he say anything about where he was going? Is he on the Earthly plane or is he in Hell?”

“Not Hell,” Martha said. “But that’s a guess. He dropped us off here after Satan got his ass handed to him by Elle and she gave us some time off.”

If they knew anything, they had no clue they knew it. Martha and Jane were not the sharpest tools in the shed. “Got it. Doesn’t Lizard always bring you dummies a present when he has to be away?”

“He sure does!” Jane said. “Last time he brought us crotchless underpants and banjos.”

Her answer made me regret asking, but I had a hunch there was something amidst the disgusting.

“Awesome,” I said with a gag. “Did he talk about anything special this time?”

Crossing my fingers, I prayed to my Uncle God that it wasn’t something sexual.

Martha cold-cocked Jane. Jane punched her right back. Both of them were laughing like they were deranged. They were. After a two minute and forty-three second smackdown, the freaks adjusted their jogging bras and grinned at me.

“For being dumb, you’re pretty dang smart,” Jane said.

I decided not to be thankful for the backhanded compliment. I folded my arms across my chest and glared at them. “Spit it out.”

Martha did a little jig then cleared her throat. “I’m gonna say that Lizard is in Los Angeles just cause he said he was gonna bring us back Simon Cowell’s star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame.”

Ethan growled. Matthew, Jax and David joined him. A few puzzle pieces might be clicking. However, the picture was far from clear.

“The Zombies were in LA?” I asked, already knowing the answer, but deciding to assume nothing.

“The Zombies were in LA,” Ethan confirmed. “I want you to call Satan to us. We need to have a chat.”

I nodded and pulled out my cell phone. “Do we want Levi in on this?”

Ethan paused in thought then nodded. “Yes. There are no coincidences. Have both men meet us in my office in a half hour.”

“What if Satan says no?” I asked, knowing it was a real possibility. The Devil worked on his own time clock and didn’t give a crap about anyone else’s.

“Tell him I went on a shopping spree at Staples and had ten boxes of office supplies delivered this morning,” Ethan said with a raised brow and wicked grin.

“Is this true?” I asked with a laugh.

“Not a word of it,” Ethan replied. “However, that will get him here faster than demanding he share what he knows.”

“You’re hot and smart,” I told him as I texted the message to Uncle Fucker.

“Thank you,” Ethan said. “I try.”

“My Liege,” David said, sitting in front of one of the computers. “It does seem to be located only in California. General Deandra says that she has lost communication with twenty Vamps. No other area is missing anyone.”

I looked over David’s shoulder at the message. I knew of Deandra. Ethan trusted her. I hoped his trust wasn’t going to be betrayed. “Could you tell how many Vamps had perished by the amount of dust in the theater?”

David, Jax, Matthew and Ethan all considered my question, but not one had an answer.

“No,” Ethan replied after a long moment. “The dust began to dissipate while we fought the Zombies. The fact that the dust was there at all means that the murders had been recent. The remains of our dead disappear quickly.”

I nodded. My mind raced, but no thoughts were coherent.

“Would you like us to attend the meeting in your office?” Jax inquired.

“No,” Ethan said, picking up all of the magazines except for the one Jane had hocked a loogie into. “I want you to get our people up to speed and prepare to leave for the West Coast once I have more intel.”

“Yes, my Liege,” the three men said in unison as they bowed to us. “We shall get our troops ready.”

“Only those housed in the Cressida House. No one outside yet,” Ethan added. “And I want interviews done to ascertain none of them are involved in any way. Am I clear?”

“You are,” Jax replied, looking every inch the scary Vampyre. “Nothing will get by us. You have my word.”

Ethan nodded curtly and the men left.

“You want us to head out to LA and start removing sphincters?” Martha asked.

“What is this obsession with sphincters?” Ethan asked with a wince. “And whose sphincter are you going to remove? We have no clue who is involved right now.”

“He makes a good fucking argument,” Jane told Martha. “It’s bad to detach an innocent person’s poop pie hole.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” Martha agreed. “We’ll just come to the meeting with you guys. You’re gonna need us.”

I wasn’t sure if that was true, but if they happened to remember anything else about Lizard’s mission, spending time in their profane company would be worth it.

“Fine,” I said. “Meet us in the office in a half hour.”

Jane grabbed the wrapped gift that there was no way I was going to open and tried to hand it to me.

“Nope,” I said, refusing the gift. “Is there a sphincter in there?”

“How’d ya know?” Martha asked. “Did you peek?”

My fingers sparked and the gals backed up. Zapping them was not a good option. There was a fine chance I would cook the sphincter, and I didn’t want my suite to smell like baked ass.

“I thought you didn’t fight with any of the reporters from last night,” I said suspiciously, wondering whose sphincter was in the box.

“We didn’t,” Martha said. “Just happened to get a good grip on one of their puckered starfish as they ran away.”

I had no words.

“You saw some of the reporters?” Ethan asked, purposefully ignoring the rest of what had just been shared.

“About five of the scum asses,” Jane confirmed.

“Could you identify them?” he asked, pulling up an encrypted site on his computer.

“Sure could,” Martha said.

Ethan stood then placed two chairs in front of the screen. “Have a seat, ladies. I have a feeling your knowledge will be very helpful.”

“FINALLY,” Jane shouted. “I’m so sick and tired of just being an unbelievably hotter-than-shit sex object. It’s about time I was admired for my brains.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” I choked out with a laugh. “However, if you find the reporters, I’ll get you Simon Cowell’s new cell phone number.”

“Deal,” Martha squealed as she and Jane began the arduous task of going through the database of every Vamp in North America.

“How many dead fuckers are on this site?” Jane asked.

“Five thousand,” Ethan replied.

“That’s a lot of bloodsuckers,” I commented as I snapped my fingers and repaired the damage I’d caused to the room.

“It most certainly is,” Ethan said, grabbing a sword and taking my hand in his. “You ready to deal with the Devil?”

“Born ready,” I replied.

I just hoped the deal wasn’t too pricey.

Chapter Ten

I put all the electronics into a cabinet that had a lock. Satan was serious about office supplies. We’d had to replace ten printers and four laptops in the past three months after he’d stopped by for what we called a pilfering pop-in. Pencils, pens and staplers were fine. I was just sick and tired of having him run off with things that had intel on them that wasn’t his.

“Is there time for a quickie?” I asked my mate, who had helped me remove everything that held confidential information.

Ethan grinned “I wish. However, I don’t think either of us wants to get caught with our pants down today.”

I laughed at the thought. Satan would find it amusing. Levi would be appalled. Although, I had no clue what my brother’s mood would be after I poked fun at the size of his wank last night. If his monosyllabic answer to my request to join us for a meeting was any indication, I’d say he was going to be as rude or ruder than usual.

“Dear God, Ethan, I’ve just heard. It’s dreadful,” Wilhem said, barging into the office without knocking.

The Prince of the South American Dominion was dressed more casually than last evening, but he was still put together—very put together. Not a hair was out of place and his pants were so pressed they could have stood on their own. All that could be dismissed, but the entering without knocking was a big fat hairy no-no. We could have been naked on top of the desk. Would have served the idiot right…

“Heard what?” Ethan inquired, calmly sitting down behind his desk and pointing to a chair for his brother. His actions and demeanor proved he didn’t trust Wilhem. Ethan wasn’t a game player. He would have acknowledged Wilhem’s distress immediately if he believed his brother to be loyal. Well, if he didn’t trust his brother, then neither did I.

I stood just out of Wilhelm’s peripheral, ready to move on him if he did anything suspicious.

Wilhem glanced over at me with uncertainty then back to Ethan with a raised brow and pinched lips. His expression said it all. The asshole was unsure if I was privy to Ethan’s business. It took tremendous effort to keep my fangs from dropping. Ethan read his brother exactly the same as I had. The pompous man had just stepped on his first land mine.

In an icy tone that made even me blanch, my mate made himself undeniably clear. “My business is Astrid’s business, and her business is mine. We are mated and work as one. I shouldn’t have to remind you, but I will. Astrid is the Chosen One and is more powerful than you and I combined. I would not suggest getting on her bad side.”

“Is that a threat?” Wilhem asked, wildly surprised and obviously put out.

“No,” Ethan replied flatly. “It’s the truth.”

Wilhem had the wherewithal to look embarrassed. I was unsure if he was a good actor or truthfully sorry. It made no difference. No matter what he did now, I wasn’t going to trust him much. He was a sexist old-school dead guy.

“Yes, yes, of course,” he said, bowing his head to me in respect. “My apologies, Astrid.”

I nodded with no expression on my face and didn’t say a word.

The silence went on a few minutes too long, but I wasn’t going to let the asshat off the hook. Vampyres understood power, fear and violence. I wasn’t crazy about that, but it had been a truth since the dawn of time—very little I could do to change age-old mindsets. However, I could change how we as a species dealt with the world around us.

Or I could try.

“There must be a reason you barged into my office without an invitation,” Ethan said, breaking the uncomfortable silence.

Wilhem was a bit taken aback. “Didn’t realize, as your brother, an invitation was needed.”

“Normally, no,” Ethan conceded. “Today, I have a lot going on.”

“I should say so. Zombies? In your Dominion?” Wilhem questioned. “Unheard of.”

“I take it you read the rags?” I asked coolly.

“No, no, no,” Wilhem stuttered. “Catriona loves them. She clued me in last night.”

“Why doesn’t that surprise me?” I muttered, leaning on the edge of Ethan’s desk. “And where is your mate this afternoon? Since she’s usually stuck to you like glue, I’m surprised she’s not with you.”

“She’s walking the grounds and getting some air. And she is not my mate,” Wilhem insisted. “We’re in discussion about that point. We’re getting closer to a merger.”

Ethan squinted at Wilhem in disbelief. “A mate is not a discussion, brother. Your other half is someone you recognize with your heart and soul. There is only one.”

“Not all of us have been as fortunate as you have,” he shot back sharply. “The woman who I was sure was my soul mate wasn’t of the same opinion. She was volatile and unreasonable. Catriona is calm and good for me. She’s focused completely on me and my well-being. She would make a regal Princess.”

“Sounds incredibly hot,” I said under my breath.

“I’m sorry, what?” Wilhem asked.

“Nothing important,” I replied, looking down at him from my standing power play. “How can we help you?”

Wilhem sat up straighter and turned his attention back to Ethan. “I’ve called in troops from my Dominion to help you in this distasteful matter.”

Ethan’s eyes flashed and his fangs dropped. Leaning forward, he slammed his hands down on his desk, sending everything atop it flying. “You have overstepped your boundaries. Call off your men and women. I have my own, and I am handling the problem. Am I clear?”

Again, Wilhem was shocked. “You have women in your army?”

I closed my eyes and sternly reminded myself that it would be shitty to electrocute Ethan’s brother no matter how much of an asshole he happened to be.

“Yes. We have men and women in our Elite Guard,” I answered before Ethan could dive across his desk and attack his brother. “We have a policy of hiring the best people. Gender plays no role in our decisions.”

Wilhem’s lips thinned in pity and he shrugged. “Might be why you have Zombies.”

The second land mine had been triggered. The man was treading on thin ice.

“I have a hard time believing you are a son of the King. He’s such a compassionate and forward-thinking man,” I said so sweetly, it confused Wilhem. “I’d think he’d be dismayed by your sexist behavior.”

“He would,” Ethan said, standing up and gesturing toward the door. “Call your people off. While you may be a century older, I am over five hundred years old. I have my Dominion and my people under control.”

“Really?” Wilhem asked. “Doesn’t look like it.”

“Enough,” Ethan hissed. “If I want your opinion, I will ask for it. I think at this point it’s best that you return to South America.”

“Impossible. Catriona will be so disappointed,” Wilhem said, pushing to see if Ethan meant what he said.

I walked to the door and held it open. “Not our problem.”

Wilhem stood and nodded jerkily to his brother. “As you wish. I will let my people know they are not welcome. I called on them after we adjourned last night. I shall wait for their arrival and then accompany them back to my Dominion.”

Ethan looked up at the ceiling for a long moment. “The moment they arrive, you will turn them around and leave.”

Without another word, Wilhem walked from the room with his head held high. I shut the door behind him with a little more force than necessary, but it felt terrific. I was wildly proud of myself that I didn’t zap the man or remove the coiffed hair from his head. I was maturing.

“Well, that was fun,” I said.

“You need to redefine your definition of fun,” Ethan said, pressing his temples.

“What about Anastasia?” I asked.

“I’d be happy to have my sister stay as long as she wants to. However, Wilhem is no longer welcome. The last thing I need is for anyone to learn that troops from another Dominion have come to save the fucking day.”

“They will not learn anything because I’ll be waiting for those troops. If they don’t want to leave, I’ll give them the magical push they need.”

“You can remove that many?” Ethan asked.

“Wait.” I was confused. “How many are we talking about?”

Ethan shrugged. “My guess would be about five hundred to a thousand. Wilhem rarely does anything small.”

I flopped down on a chair and let my head fall back. “Well, shit. That’s a lot of dead dudes to transport all at once. I’m going to have to get backup for that.”

“Please tell me you are not calling who I think you’re going to call,” Ethan whispered.

I nodded and grinned. “I am.”

“The last time she was here, we had to have a forest removed from the Grand Ballroom complete with monkeys, lions and parrots.”

“This is true,” I said, wincing at the memory. “But she can move thousands with a flick of her pinky finger in a hot second. It would take me a day and word could get out more easily. A jungle and a barrel of destructive monkeys is a small price to pay. Oh… and we’ll probably have to sit through a pole-dancing exhibition.”

Ethan threw back his head and laughed. “Why not? We may as well add to the shitshow. We have the Devil showing up shortly under false pretenses. It makes horrifying sense to have Mother Nature get rid of a couple hundred unwanted Vamps for the price of watching her fall off a pole.”

“You inherited a lot of baggage when you got hitched to me,” I pointed out.

“As did you,” he replied, crossing the room and pulling me into his arms. “And I will happily carry your baggage until the end of time.”

“Back at you, hot pants,” I said, pressing my lips to his and kissing the man who I would die for.

We did have a tremendous amount of baggage between us. But we had each other and that was all that mattered.

Chapter Eleven

“Is it necessary to bring that to the meeting?” I asked Martha as she placed the dreaded gift-wrapped box on Ethan’s desk.

Ethan had gone to check in with the Elite Guards. Neither Satan nor Levi had graced us with their presence yet, but there was still fifteen minutes before the meeting was scheduled to start. Martha and Jane had shown up early.

Lucky me.

“Yep,” Martha replied with a gleeful cackle. “If Hottie McEvil-pants wants to make off with Ethan’s shit, I figured he wouldn’t be able to resist a present. Would serve him right to go home with a sphincter.”

“Darn tootin’,” Jane added, handing me a sheet of paper with names on it. “If the Devil’s gonna steal your crap, he deserves to own the muscle in the asshole that cuts the doody off. Might make the sexy stud rethink swiping stuff that doesn’t belong to him.”

“Are you two okay?” I asked, with my mouth hanging open. Placing the paper on Ethan’s desk, I glanced at it. There were five names on it. I recognized none of them.

“We’re fine,” Jane grunted. “Why?”

“Because you actually made sense. It was seriously disgusting, but it made sense,” I replied, imagining the look on Uncle Fucker’s face when he realized he had stolen a sphincter.

“We always make sense, even when we don’t. Most of the time our own brilliance goes right over our very sexy heads,” Martha explained. “We’re so intellectually above the masses that they just don’t fucking understand us and neither do we.”

I laughed. “Not sure I’d go that far, but your devious plan for today is damned good.”

Jane gave me a thumbs up. “We always have your back, Bulges St. Boobala.”

“Thanks, Saggy Milksquirt,” I replied, deciding if I couldn’t stop them from the name-
calling, I’d join them.

“Niiiice, Busty Bazooms,” Jane shot back.

“I thought so, Droopy Hooters.”

Martha’s eyes narrowed and her grin grew wide. “Game on, Bongo Cans.”

“Lame, Floppy Chest Cheeks,” I challenged.

Jane squealed and dropped into a fighting stance. It was disturbingly similar to her bow. The old Vamp looked like she was about to take a dump. “You can’t win, Jubblies McHeadlamps.”

“Watch me, Crumpled Lady Bubbles.”

“Well, Jumbo Maracas, you have finally proven yourself worthy,” Martha announced, slapping me a high-five.

“Always happy to amuse you, Dangling Milk Duds.”

“Umm… can I play?” Anastasia asked with a grin, standing in the open doorway of the office.

Just seeing Ethan’s sister made me smile. I hoped that she would stay even though Ethan had ordered Wilhem and his clingy consort to leave.

“Are you up to the challenge?” I asked.

“Always,” she replied smoothly.

“Go for it, Bodacious Blouse Clowns,” Jane crowed with delight.

“I shall, Blubber Nuggets,” Anastasia said, pointing at Jane. “And you, Dairy Pillow McDoorknobs, are going to lose.”

Martha got so excited she began to levitate. Yanking her out of the air, I tossed her bony butt onto a chair.

“Thanks, Gigantic Globes,” Martha said.

“No problem, Jiggly Puffs,” I said, laughing.

Martha let it rip, calling everyone’s lady bits in the room so many names, I was doubled over laughing. Anastasia was flabbergasted and giggling uncontrollably.

“Fine!” Anastasia shouted. “You win.”

“You get one last shot,” Martha dared Anastasia. “One last chance to win the Mammary Championship.”

“Also known as Queen of the Knockers,” Jane added.

Anastasia wiped the grin off her face and got serious. “And if I win?”

“You won’t,” Jane stated.

“But if I do?” she pressed.

Martha and Jane exchanged glances. This was some serious shit.

“If you win, we will perform a full-length, six-hour and thirty-two-minute private concert for you in your home,” Martha promised.

“That’s worth seventy-five dollars without tips,” Jane explained. “The only other person we’ve done it for was Simon Cowell. He cried for two weeks afterward.”

“And he never paid us,” Martha chimed in.

“Umm… not sure the prize is worth it,” I told my sister-in-law. “Your eardrums won’t survive.”

“I think the prize is outstanding,” Anastasia countered with a wink. “I will go for it.”

I shook my head. She’d never heard the old bats sing. She was in for a tragically horrifying surprise. “It’s your hearing.”

Rubbing her hands together and eyeing the two imbeciles who were probably hoping to lose so they could perform a concert, Anastasia cleared her throat and dove in.

“Mango McMauMaus, you have picked the wrong dead gal to compete with,” she began, much to the delight of Martha and Jane. “Noogie Pumpkins who challenge me are little more than Squishy Shirt-Potatoes looking to lose. But Tatas LaSkin-Sacks rarely know when they’ve met their match. Meatloaf Mounds who claim unfounded victory should accept that they are merely Lady-Lumps LeBlubber-nuts. And in conclusion, I shall leave you with this…”

Anastasia clasped her hands in front of her chest and began to sing. Her voice was wondrous. She sounded like the Angels on High. However, the lyrics? Not so much. I would never hear “Mary Had A Little Lamb” the same way again.

“Martha had a little boob. Little saggy nube, squishy ice cube. Jane too had a tiny bumpy tube, the flesh was floppy as dough. And every bra that Martha bent, Martha sent, with Jane’s consent. Every bra that Martha lent, the torpedo tubes were filled with woe.”

Jane turned purple, she was cackling so loud. Martha fell off the chair and rolled all over the office. Anastasia pumped her fists over her head in victory.

“And the winner is… Anastasia,” I announced over the hysterics. “However, I am going on record that you will regret winning, since the prize is terrifying and nightmare-inducing.”

“Don’t care,” Anastasia said with a giggle, pointing at the incapacitated Martha and Jane. “Totally worth it. I haven’t laughed like that in decades.”

Her statement made me sad. “You’re not included in Ethan’s order for Wilhem to leave.”

Anastasia sobered quickly and nodded. “I thought not. I don’t know what happened between my brothers, but it is none of my business unless either of them wants to share. Wilhem has always been jealous of Ethan, much to the dismay of our father.”

“That sucks for him,” I said. “Jealousy can be a fatal disease.”

“Correct,” Anastasia conceded in a weary tone. “Wilhem feels that way about all of our male siblings. Sad use of time if you ask me.”

“Just the males?” I asked, wondering how sexist the man truly was.

“Yes. And I agree with your thought,” she said.

My brows shot up in surprise. Could everyone crawl into my head? This was going to be a problem. “Can you hear my thoughts?”

“No,” she assured me. “I can read your face. You are a very expressive person.”

My relief was palpable and we both laughed. “Will Wilhem leave peacefully?”

Anastasia walked across the room and picked up Martha, who’d gotten herself wedged under the desk in her fit of hysterics. “Yes, he will leave without a fight. His gal pal will throw a fit, though.”

Following Anastasia’s lead, I dislodged Jane from under the carpet. She had twisted her bony little body into a pretzel. With a snap of my fingers, I de-pretzeled the idiot. “What the heck is her deal?”

Shrugging, Anastasia placed Martha in a chair and straightened what little there was of her hair. “She has visions of wearing a crown on her head. If you ask me, it will never work.”

“Why?” I questioned, seating Jane next to Martha and making sure her knockers were still tucked into her jog bra. As silly as the boob talk had been, I didn’t want any visual evidence.

“Because Wilhem’s true mate is waiting for the six-hundred-year-old dumbass to grow up,” she replied, sitting down next to Martha. “Catriona is simply a dalliance, but don’t tell her. She would implode.”

“Wilhem said she’s been wandering the grounds.”

Anastasia looked doubtful. “I took a walk earlier and didn’t see her, but you have extensive and beautiful grounds.”

“Thanks,” I replied, wanting to end the talk of Wilhem and his icky sidekick. “What about you?”

“What about me?” she shot back suspiciously.

“Do you have a mate waiting for you to grow up?”

Anastasia was quiet for a long moment. “No. I do not. And honestly, even though I’m painfully aware that my father is trying to help me out with that, I’m fine on my own. I refuse to settle like Wilhem seems so keen to do. I’ve waited over five hundred years. A few hundred more will make no difference. I want what you and Ethan have, and I’ll settle for nothing less.”

My sister-in-law had balls. I loved women who had large metaphorical cojones. “And you will have it,” I told her. “I can feel it.”

Anastasia simply smiled sadly.

And now, unfortunately, I had to politely ask her to leave… “We have a meeting with Satan in a few minutes. How about you and I meet in the fight training room later this afternoon and have a rematch of our race?”

Anastasia took the hint. She stood and gave me a warm hug. “Sounds good. I’m on a winning roll today, so beating you should be a cinch.”

“In your dreams, Vampyre,” I said, hugging her back.

“We shall see,” she replied as she disappeared in a blast of icy pink glitter.

“I like that foul-mouthed gal a lot,” Martha said. “We’re gonna do a real special concert for her.”

“Yep,” Jane confirmed. “I’m thinking some Celine Dion and Elvis with a little Prince and a dash of Queen thrown in.”

“Sounds frightening,” I told them.

“Thanks,” Jane said.

“Welcome.”

“What do we do now?” Martha asked.

“We wait,” Ethan said, striding into the room with a grim expression on his handsome face.

“For?” Jane asked.

“The Devil,” he replied in a clipped tone. “I do not enjoy owing the Lord of the Underworld anything. But right now, I’m willing to owe a few favors if he can shed any light on what’s happening.”

“Well, just like we have Astrid’s back, we’ve got yours too,” Jane told him, patting him on the head like he was a child. “We’re gonna let the Devil steal the butthole.”

“That sounds rather alarming,” Ethan said, completely confused.

“Don’t you worry your pretty undead head about anything,” Martha said. “Like my asshat partner said, we’ve got your back.”

Ethan glanced over at me, and I winked. His body relaxed slightly. He nodded to Martha and Jane. “Thank you. It is appreciated… I think. Why don’t you two go to the Situation Room? There’s a discussion about eliminating Zombies. If you’d like to truly have our backs, I think that would be the wisest use of your time right now.”

“You got it,” Martha said. “And we can teach everyone how to remove a sphincter.”

“Or not,” I said.

“We’re at your disposal, Hot Pants and Tatas LaSkin-Sacks,” Jane told Ethan and me, stealing one of Anastasia’s boob terms. “Always.”

Ethan grinned and shook his head. “As terrifying as that is, again, I thank you for everything.”

Little did he know that he was thanking them for setting the Devil up to steal a butthole, but I knew he’d get a kick out of it. I’d save the entire story for later… when we needed to laugh.

Chapter Twelve

The atmosphere was so tense you could cut it. Uncle Fucker had arrived and thrown a fit that we’d duped him about the office supplies. Luckily—not for him—he was eyeing the wrapped gift with plans of pilfering it. As long as he didn’t open it here, we’d be fine.

The Devil was not wearing Prada. He was wearing a powder-blue train conductor’s uniform and red cowboy boots. It was adorable. I wasn’t sure if he was aware that he hadn’t changed into an Armani suit, but decided not to mention it. He was already put out enough.

But that wasn’t the main problem.

Satan’s tantrum about getting tricked was nothing compared to Levi’s behavior. His glare directed at Satan was so vicious that even the Devil himself was thrown off-kilter. Neither Ethan nor I had known about this ugly wrinkle. I half-expected Ethan to ask Levi to leave. Although, now that I was privy to the animosity, I wanted to understand the reason behind it.

Levi was an admiral of Hell. If this was the Devil’s relationship with one of his top men, he had a few problems. Not to mention, Levi was his nephew, as I was Satan’s niece.

“You want to eighty-six the death glares?” I asked my brother. “Not really helping.”

“No,” he replied.

“Mmmkay,” I said, trying to figure out the best plan of action. “Maybe you should leave.”

“Not happening. He can leave.”

“Not happening,” I snapped. “We need information and Uncle Fucker has it. Or I hope he does.”

“Good luck getting anything out of the bastard,” Levi replied coldly. “He’s an asshole.”

“Of course, he’s an asshole. That’s a given,” I said wanting to roll my eyes, but refraining. “I need to either bribe him or blackmail him, and your ’tude isn’t really helping me reach my goal. Plus, the asshole is family.”

“I have no family,” Levi said tonelessly, ripping a hole in my non-beating heart.

“Listen to me, Lord Wrangler Tough Skins. You can pick your nose. You can pick your friends, but you can’t pick your family. You’re stuck with them. I’m your sister and the asshole is your uncle. I’d suggest you un-wad your panties, pull them out of your crack and get with the program.”

“The asshole can hear both of you,” Satan hissed, picking up the box and holding it close to his chest. “Just say your piece out loud and I shall be leaving with my gift, since I was misled about the Staples booty. I only have a half hour before Thomas the Tank Engine comes on and I will not be late.”

“Samuel loved Thomas the Tank Engine too,” I said, hoping to diffuse the friction and move quickly past how many times I’d just called him an asshole. I mean, the truth was the truth, but it wasn’t going to get me anywhere fast.

“Yes, well, it makes me want to claw my eyes out of my head, but Luke thinks it’s brilliant,” Satan explained. “I keep waiting for George Carlin to cuss out Sir Topham Fucking Hatt, but no luck so far.”

“Why would George Carlin cuss out a fictional character on a cartoon?” Levi asked, unable to stop himself.

“First of all, it’s not a cartoon,” Satan grumbled.

If I wasn’t mistaken, and I don’t think I was, Uncle Fucker seemed secretly delighted that Levi had addressed him without fury or throwing a weapon.

“Secondly, George Carlin is the narrator. While I was initially excited to hear the news that one of the most brilliantly profane comics was chronicling the sleep-inducing antics of a talking fucking train, I have been wildly disappointed with the results,” he huffed. “I’ve put in a call to Heaven to give George a piece of my mind, but I don’t think that jackass God passed on the message.”

“Mmkay,” I said, deciding that Satan was a little too volatile at the moment to keep him here too long. I got right to it. “Why is Lizard on a mission in LA? Does it have anything to do with the Zombies? Why did you send Levi to me? Was there a reason? And have you stopped being jealous of Elle’s boobs?”

“None of that is any of your business,” he replied, seating himself on the couch and putting the channel changer in his pocket.

Damn, I’d missed the remote. “I beg to differ, Uncle Fucker,” I shot back.

“There are rarely coincidences in our world,” Ethan said flatly. “There are Zombies in LA—or rather, were Zombies in LA.”

Satan’s surprised gaze flew to Ethan and he raised a brow. “You destroyed them?”

“I did,” he replied.

“One question answered,” Satan said. “If you eliminated them, then your own people are creating them.”

“Yep, already know that,” I said, thinking that maybe the Devil didn’t know any more than we did. “Is that why you sent Lizard to California? To find out if he could kill them?”

“Indeed, I did,” Satan said, checking his watch. “Is that all?”

I glanced over at Ethan. He was staring at the list of names on his desk with a dark expression. While I wasn’t acquainted with the secretive reporters, he apparently was.

“You’re asking the wrong questions,” Levi commented, leaning back in his chair and crossing his legs.

“No one asked you,” Satan warned.

“Makes it all the more fun,” Levi shot back coldly.

“Would you like to go back to where you were two days ago?” Satan inquired casually as his eyes turned a sparkling red.

Levi shrugged, but the tightness of his jaw belied his casual attitude. “Doesn’t matter to me.”

“Where were you?” I asked. “Before you came here.”

Levi said nothing.

“Where were you?” I repeated.

“In Hell,” my brother replied, still glaring at Satan. “In every nuanced sense of the word.”

“A penance of your own choice,” the Devil snarled, standing up. “I take no blame for what you have elected to do with your eternity, Leviathan.”

“I call bullshit, old man,” Levi said, rising from the chair with eyes glowing as red as the Devil’s. “You had the final call, you son of a bitch. You always have.”

“And I always will,” Satan said flatly, then turned his back on his nephew and focused on Ethan and me. “I will tell you this for free. No favors required. Everything is connected. Don’t discount small details that seem unimportant. The old are wise. Where the heart is involved, follow it. The enemy is within and the goal is large.”

“Cryptic,” Ethan ground out.

“It’s the way of the Immortals,” Satan said, sounding tired. “You know this as well as I.”

It wasn’t enough. The stakes were incredibly high, and I was pretty sure a few of those stakes were aimed at Ethan and me. “What are the right questions?” I demanded of Levi.

“You sent Lizard?” Levi asked the Devil.

Satan rolled his eyes and sighed dramatically. “That has already been established. You have three more questions and then it will cost you.”

“Me,” I cut in. “It will cost me. Not Levi.”

“The one who asks the questions shall pay the price,” Uncle Fucker announced smugly.

“You will owe him nothing,” Levi growled. “I will owe him.”

“Nope. No can do, brother. Plus, Uncle Fucker owes me at the moment, so it’s a wash,” I replied. “Although, your assistance would be greatly appreciated.”

“Not. A. Problem. It would be my pleasure to screw with Satan,” Levi said, with a humorless smile.

“I’m standing right here,” Satan said with an eye roll. “And while I adore being the topic of conversation, I’m not enjoying this one.”

Levi stood and took a step toward the Devil. The Devil took a step toward Levi. It was looking like we might have bigger problems than Zombies.

“Enough,” Ethan said, moving between the two men. “I’d prefer the Cressida House stay in one piece. We have two more questions. I would like them answered.”

“Fine,” Satan huffed. “You have five minutes.”

“Ask him how many Zombies Lizard found.”

“How many Zombies did Lizard find?” I asked.

“You’re cheating,” Satan shouted, stomping his foot and setting a priceless rug on fire.

I waved my hand and doused the flames. “Yep. Learned that from you.”

“Compliments will get you nowhere,” he growled, trying to bite back a smirk.

He failed. Any and all kinds of unsavory behavior delighted the Devil.

“Answer me,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest, mimicking Levi’s stance.

“Ten living dead as of this morning.”

I glanced at Levi as he considered the next question.

“Are you aware of the why, or who, as well as the motive of the Zombies or their creators?” he coached.

“Damn you’re good,” I told him.

“Yes,” Levi agreed. “I am.”

“That is a four-and-a-half-part single question.”

I turned to Satan and waited. He could hear Levi as clearly as I could. There was no reason to repeat.

Satan’s eyes narrowed as he stared at Levi. “You’re playing with fire, boy. And the answer to the question is no.”

Without moving a single muscle or body part, Levi threw a bolt of glittering blood-red voodoo at the Devil. It sent Satan flying across the room. His huge frame slammed into the wall with a sickening thud.

I screamed and threw up a barrier of magic between the men. It was crystal clear and shimmered with power. “Really not smart,” I snapped at Levi as Satan got to his feet and began to laugh.

“You’ve wanted to do that your entire life. Congratulations. It was outstanding and hurt like a motherfucker,” he said.

Levi walked right up to the enchanted boundary and flipped the Devil off. “Very magnanimous of you to push it too far. It was quite enjoyable.”

I had no clue what they were talking about, but if I could breathe, I would have sighed with massive relief. If anyone else other than Elle had attacked Satan like that, they would be a pile of ash.

“Okay,” I said, my gaze bouncing between the two Demons. “No more games. No more trying to end each other. I really don’t have time for that kind of shit today. According to the gossip magazines, our own people are trying to remove us from the throne. We have Zombies eating Vampyres and apparently Vampyres creating the Zombies.”

“Harsh,” Levi muttered.

“Understatement,” Ethan said.

I kept going. Maybe by saying it out loud, it would make sense. “Ethan and some of the Elite Guards eliminated ten Zombies yesterday. Lizard says there are ten more today. On top of that shitshow, Ethan’s brother has called in his army to help with the situation, which would undercut our authority in a big bad way. Martha and Jane are teaching the Elite Guards how to remove sphincters as we speak, and I’m wearing a crown and combat boots. So, you can see how you guys killing each other wouldn’t work for me today.”

“Martha and Jane are here?” Levi asked.

Of all the questions he could have asked after my information vomit, that one was unexpected. “You know Martha and Jane?”

“Everyone knows Martha and Jane,” Satan said with a shudder. “Let’s start with the basics. Do you have enemies?” Satan asked Ethan and me.

“Is that a trick question?” I shot back with an enormous eye roll. “Yesss, we have enemies.”

“Astrid is correct,” Ethan admitted. “However, none in my Dominion that I believe would create monsters to kill our own.”

“Then look outside your Dominion,” Levi suggested.

“What he said,” Satan added. “Did you listen to the ridiculously cryptic message I spoke earlier?”

“Repeat it,” I said.

Satan raised his palm and began to read.

“Wait,” I said, squinting at him. “Did you write the message on your hand?”

“Maybe,” Satan replied cagily.

“Do you even know what the message means?”

Satan inhaled slowly, then blew the breath out even slower. It was terrifying. “Nooooooo,” he snapped. “I have no fucking idea what it means. Elle gave me a few clues before I left Hell to steal your office supplies that don’t exist. I wrote them on my hand so I wouldn’t forget them. I have a lot on my fucking mind right now with trying to bribe my son to love me.”

“Bond,” I corrected him.

“What?” he asked, confused.

“You’re not bribing Luke. You’re bonding with him,” I reminded the idiot.

“Right,” he agreed quickly. “Bonding with bribery. I put my own twist on it.”

I nodded and swallowed my giggle. A tiger didn’t change its stripes and the Devil didn’t follow the rules. It was what it was.

“So, that’s why you offered the message for free,” I guessed aloud. “It wasn’t from you.”

Satan glanced down and screamed in horror. “Why didn’t anyone tell me I was wearing a powder-blue fucking conductor outfit?”

The man had just been blasted with magic that would have killed a regular Immortal and had hit the wall with enough force to leave a huge dent. He’d barely made a sound. However, he screamed like a girl when he noticed his fashion faux pas.

“It’s cute,” I told him.

“I don’t do cute,” he hissed, waving his hand and replacing the goofy costume with a custom Armani black suit. “Much more fitting.”

“I liked the first outfit better,” Levi offered, sitting back down.

“No one asked you,” Satan said. “And if anyone shares that I’m offering advice that I don’t understand, I will deny it and profanely enhance every room in your palace when I start coming for dinner every Sunday.”

“We don’t eat dinner. Ever,” I reminded him. “We’re dead.”

“You’re missing the point entirely,” Satan said, throwing his hands in the air. “The living dead are going to be your ruin. This is not my problem. It’s yours. I’d suggest a little wordplay game. And that is a big fucking hint.”

“Wordplay with what?” I demanded, wanting to blast him like Levi just had.

“Figure it out. And that clue I do understand. I’d suggest you work to understand it as well. It might save your undead asses from the ones halfway there.”

And on that unforgivably cryptic note, the Lord of the Underworld disappeared in enough glittery black magic to choke all of us. There would be leftover sparkles in the office for months.

“What the hell was that?” Ethan roared, smashing his hands down on his desk and shattering it.

“It was typical,” Levi said, admiring Ethan’s strength. “I feel the need to beat the hell out of someone. Are you game?”

“I wish,” Ethan muttered, snatching up the list of names. “I have a few Vampyres to interrogate. Take Astrid. Your sister is completely indestructible, and I’m quite sure she could use the release as well. It will keep her from blowing up the compound.”

“Correct,” I said, grabbing Levi by the hand and pulling the huge man to his feet. “And besides, I want to talk to you.”

“It’s talk or fight,” Levi said.

“I’m a multitasker, motherfucker. We’re gonna do both.”

“You’re a pain in the ass,” Levi muttered as I led him out of the office.

“Tell me something I don’t know.” I grinned and yanked him along.

Something in my heart told me Levi’s story was tragic. And even though my heart didn’t beat anymore, it had grown lately. There was always room in a heart to love more people, and I loved Levi. I was pretty sure Levi wouldn’t want my love. It was clear he didn’t love himself. Loving other people was going to be difficult for him.

Too bad. So sad.

He was now stuck with me and my love.

Lord Wrangler Tough Skins was going to love me back even if I had to beat his ass into realizing it.

Chapter Thirteen

“No magic. Hand to hand and no death blows allowed,” I instructed as I kicked off my combat boots and removed my crown.

“Reasonable,” Levi said as he too took off his shoes. “Death blows would be redundant seeing as how you can’t be killed.”

“True,” I agreed, shrugging out of my jacket and tossing it on the pile. “But you can.”

“Don’t be so sure,” he said.

I eyed him curiously. He ignored me and walked out to the middle of the room.

“You want to explain yourself?” I asked, following him.

“Nope.”

The fight training facilities at the Cressida house were top-notch, including a gym with every machine known to man. There was a boxing ring on the far left side and a three-mile circular running track. Right smack in the middle of the cavernous room was an empty area covered in mats for sparring. Sparring was the polite term for Immortals beating the crap out of each other.

Bleachers flanked the room on both sides. Right now, the training area was empty. It wasn’t surprising since most of the Vamps were in the Situation Room creating a plan of action. While I should be helping, Ethan was correct. The amount of tension inside me made me a ticking time bomb. An hour of violent physical exertion should calm me down.

There was power in stillness. I walked to the center of the mat and waited. I quietly claimed my space. More often than not, it threw my opponent. It didn’t throw Levi. He did the exact same thing. My adrenaline spiked with excitement. Other than Ethan, I didn’t have many worthy sparring partners.

Levi grinned.

I grinned right back.

Shaking his head, he ran his hands through his dark hair and sighed. “This doesn’t feel right. I don’t want to beat up my newly found, unwanted sister.”

I bit back a whoop of joy that he’d called me his sister. I ignored the unwanted part. The more he said the word, the closer he was to having to love me, or at least like me.

“Look at it this way,” I suggested. “Shortly, I’m going after Zombies. Think of this as a warmup session so I can stay focused. It would suck all kinds of ass if I took down the entire state of California. You feel me?”

“You’re insane,” Levi replied.

“Yep. Pretty sure you inherited that gene as well.”

Levi stared at the floor for a long moment then chuckled. “As you wish.”

The Demon charged me with such speed it almost made him disappear. Almost. With a grunt of determination, I dropped low and moved to the left. Extending my leg, I focused solely on the blur of movement. My moves were as fast as my brother’s. My leg undercut him, sending him hurtling a hundred feet through the air and landing with a profane-laden thud in the bleachers.

“Excellent,” he shouted, getting up and shaking it off.

“Thank you.”

Levi eyed me with delight. “You good with blood and broken bones?”

“Yep. I heal fast,” I said, my excitement matching his. “Are you partial to your nose?”

His head tilted to the side. His expression was wary. “No. Why?”

“Because I’m going to break it.”

Lord Wrangler Tough Skins’ laugh echoed through the enormous room and made me feel happy and tingly. Granted, we were discussing mutilating each other, but it was the way of our kind. Love and respect came in violent packages in the Immortal world.

“Good luck with that,” Levi said, moving faster than he had only moments ago.

“Luck is for pussies,” I hissed as I took the full brunt of his huge frame and landed on my back.

As Levi was about to pin me, I rolled out from under him, jumped to my feet and gave him a kick to the head that sent him staggering back. The idiot was grinning like a fool. Each blow I threw was met with one as equally forceful. It was brutally beautiful.

“You are such a shithat,” I growled as I shoved my shoulder back in the socket after a particularly savage attack.

“I’m a shithat with an intact nose at the moment,” he pointed out, swiping at the blood pouring from a cut above his eye. “I’d call that a win.”

“I do believe you’re counting chickens before they hatch, Mr. Blue Jeans.”

“Yes, but I can eat chickens. You can’t.”

“Low blow, brother,” I said as my eyes narrowed to slits. They didn’t have far to go, considering both eyes were swollen and blackened at the moment.

“The truth hurts,” he taunted and raised his middle finger.

“And so will your pretty nose,” I warned, grinning from ear to ear.

Levi could indeed move fast, but I was faster. I’d been holding back. My brother never saw me coming. With swift and precise aggression, I jumped him and threw him to his back. His shocked reaction was golden. Before he could retaliate, I elbow slammed him in the face. The crunch was horrifying and wildly satisfying.

Levi moaned and rolled over, trying to realign his nose and stem the bleeding.

“Oh my Uncle God,” I gasped out, crawling over to him. “I am so sorry.” A teeny-tiny part of me felt bad but losing would have felt worse.

However, this time it was me counting my chickens too quickly. I should have known he’d fight dirty. He was a Demon, after all…

And I was a dumbass of epic proportions.

His counter-attack was ferocious. We grappled like we were fighting for survival. We rolled and punched. Our bodies were tangled, and at one point, I punched my own head. With a scream of laughter, I remedied my mistake and broke his healing nose a second time.

“You suck,” he roared with a grunt of laughter, lying in a pool of blood with his hands over his nose.

“You had enough?” I asked, lying beside him in my own pool of blood.

“Never, but that was fucking fantastic. You’re a damned machine.”

“Back at you,” I said, gingerly turning my head to look at him. “You’re a hot mess.”

“As are you,” he said, looking a bit guilty.

“Stop,” I insisted, leaning over and readjusting his nose so it healed straight. “If you feel bad, you ruin what was a damn good homicidal bonding experience.

Levi was quiet as I checked his face over. I stared into his eyes that were mirrors of my own and placed a sweet, sisterly kiss on his blood-smeared forehead.

“I will answer two of your questions, Astrid,” he said. “Only two.”

I nodded slowly. I felt lightheaded—not from the loss of blood, from the trust he was showing me in revealing himself.

“What did Satan mean that you’d chosen your penance?”

Levi sat up and rested his forehead on his bent knees. “I’m paying for the sins of our father.”

My stomach roiled with horror. His words were more painful than the physical fight we’d just had. Our father’s sins were unending and grisly. I had so many questions but was only allowed one more. In time, I would learn the whole story.

“What does that entail?” I whispered.

He sighed and searched for words. “I burn. I burn in the Basement of Hell. When I get to the point of death, I am healed and then I burn again.”

“Satan damned you to that?”

“That’s the third question,” he said, sounding weary. “However, I will give you a pass and answer one more. No, he did not.”

Knowing the truth wasn’t always a good thing. Fury at the man who I only considered a sperm donor burned inside me like the fire my brother had embraced as his destiny. Demons were an unusual breed. I understood a lot about that half of my heritage but taking on the sins of one’s father was news to me.

“Then I’m at fault, since I killed him,” I whispered. “Did your penance start when he died?”

“You are not at fault,” Levi countered flatly. “The bastard made his own bed.”

“Then why are you lying in it?” I demanded, realizing Satan had sent Levi to me to get him out of his own personal Hell.

The Devil wasn’t magnanimous, but he was fair. He didn’t agree with what Levi had chosen any more than I did.

“No more questions,” Levi said, getting to his feet and yanking me to mine. “There are Zombies to kill.” His body went rigid and his demeanor changed. “Well, fuck.”

Levi’s eyes were drawn across the room. My head jerked in the direction of his gaze.

Anastasia stood in the doorway of the training room and wiped a bloody tear from her eye. I’d forgotten I had asked her to meet me in the training room for a rematch.

“How long have you been standing there?” Levi growled.

“Long enough,” she replied. “I’m sorry.”

“For?” Levi asked coolly.

“You,” she said.

The stare they exchanged made me slightly uncomfortable. What was happening here?

“Don’t be,” Levi said in a harsh tone. “My existence has nothing to do with your fragile emotions.”

Anastasia’s mood changed abruptly. Her pity disappeared and she glared at Levi with cold animosity. “My emotions are not fragile, Demon. But apparently yours are.”

“You know nothing of me,” he hissed.

“Thank God for small favors,” she muttered.

The standoff was interrupted by a sweet Vampyre dressed in a hot-pink cape with a large ruby broach at the neck.

Vinnie held a large box in one hand and waved excitedly with the other. “Am I interrupting?” he asked.

“No,” I said, glancing between Anastasia and Levi. The dislike was white-hot. “You’re a very welcome distraction right now, Vinnie.”

“Wonderful!” Vinnie gushed as he floated into the training room and landed right in front of me. “Oh dear.” He gently touched my swollen and bloody face. “Would you care for a bottle of blood to aid in your healing?”

I really didn’t want to be rude, but the thought of bottled blood was flat-out gross. “Umm… whose blood is it?”

“Mine of course,” Vinnie said with a smile, placing the box carefully on the floor. “Over the centuries, I’ve developed an enchanted icebox—so to speak. It keeps the blood at a temperature that ensures it doesn’t spoil. I have found that blood ages like fine wine. The older the better—and more powerful.”

There were so many things wrong with all of his statements, but there was no way I would make the old Vamp feel bad. Just like the puppies he wanted to save, Vinnie was my new stray puppy. Kicking a puppy was not in my repertoire.

“Maybe later,” I said, trying to let him down gently. “I have some ass to kick on the West Coast.”

Vinnie ignored me and pulled out a bottle. “Looks like some ass was already kicked,” he pointed out. “And this batch is special. I have heard through the grapevine that you are partial to hot salsa and tortilla chips.”

“The grapevine?” I asked suspiciously. Was Vinnie a rag magazine reporter?

“Martha and Jane told me,” he explained.

“You know Martha and Jane?” I asked, confused.

Levi chuckled. “Everyone knows Martha and Jane,” he reminded me.

The old bags certainly got around.

“Oh yes,” Vinnie confirmed. “I’ve taken a pole-dancing class from the lovely gals—very dangerous, but quite fun.”

I’d pretty much heard everything now. I had no clue they were running a business on the side endangering lives on a pole.

Vinnie held the bottle of blood out to me. The sunlight streaming through the large windows caught the glass. It sparkled with magic and called out to me in a strange way.

Vinnie cleared his throat and bowed. “In honor of you and your compassionate care for our kind, I have created flavored blood. This is chips and extra-hot salsa.”

“Shut the front fucking door,” I shouted out, staring at the bottle in shock. “For real?”

“For realsies,” Vinnie said with a giggle. “I’d be happy to taste test before you drink it so you feel comfortable.”

Anastasia crossed the room quickly and stared at the bottle with as much fascination as I did.

“Is there food in it?” she asked, confused.

“No, no, no,” Vinnie assured her. “Magic.”

I was wildly tempted, but I had a seriously full and deadly agenda for the rest of the day. I couldn’t risk being in the fetal position for a week.

“How much blood do you have stored?” Anastasia questioned.

“Several thousand bottles in my warehouse,” Vinnie told her. “All different flavors. Of course, there is straight blood as well for those who prefer it.”

Levi had turned a little green with all the blood talk. Demons didn’t drink blood. They freaking got to eat food. My brother had no clue how exciting this was to Anastasia and me. It was a game changer.

“Fuck it,” I said. Taking the bottle from Vinnie, I opened it and gave it a sniff. It smelled heavenly.

Anastasia’s eyes grew wide as I lifted the bottle to my lips. If the blood tasted like it smelled and didn’t make me grow another head, it was a win. While I was aware that I was living on the edge, my gut instinct told me it was fine to drink Vinnie’s invention. My gut was what I always followed in tricky situations. It hadn’t led me wrong yet.

Hopefully, today wasn’t the day I’d have to eat my words. At the very least, I knew it wouldn’t kill me. Being a True Immortal came in handy at times like these.

“Cheers,” I said to the group as I took a sip.

My knees went weak. My throat burned with the gorgeous tingle from the jalapeno and siracha in the salsa. The salty flavor of the chips followed. Sipping was for weenies. I gulped down the rest of the bottle and held my hand out for another. Vinnie quickly obliged.

Twelve seconds and three bottles later, I stopped myself and waited to see if I was going to jackknife forward in excruciating agony. Anastasia’s eyes were huge, and Levi’s fists were clenched at his sides. He wasn’t sure what to do. Only Vinnie was calm and happy.

“You like it?” Vinnie inquired as his eyes sparkled.

“I LOVE IT,” I yelled, making everyone jump. “This is fucking awesome. Can I have that case?”

“It is for you,” Vinnie said, bowing. “I made it specifically for the Chosen One.”

Grabbing Vinnie and hugging him tight, I danced him around the training room. His giggle was as delightful as the taste of the blood. He was onto something big.

“Can I have one?” Anastasia called out as I graduated to flying, taking Vinnie on a roller-coaster ride.

“Be my guest,” I called out as we buzzed their heads. “You’re gonna freak.”

“Was it spicey enough?” Vinnie asked as we landed back by Levi and Anastasia.

Sucking my bottom lip into my mouth, I mulled the question. “Yes,” I told him. “But I wouldn’t mind a hotter batch for when I’m feeling lucky.”

“It shall be done!” he promised.

“Holy Hell,” Anastasia said. “Amazing. Can I buy a case or ten?”

Vinnie bowed to Anastasia. “I would be honored to gift a case to you. What is the food you miss the most?”

My sister-in-law literally trembled with excitement. “I miss peaches,” she whispered.

Levi watched Anastasia closely with an undecipherable expression. Interesting…

Vinnie bounced like a child on Christmas morning. “I just so happen to have a case of peach-flavored blood with me. It would be a privilege to give it to you, Princess.”

“The privilege would be all mine,” she assured Vinnie.

Vinnie’s cape was dreadful. The ruby at his neck was monstrous. However, he was the cutest Vampyre I’d ever seen. His wide smile was contagious, as was his excitement.

“I shall hand-deliver a case of peach blood to your suite, Princess Anastasia,” he announced with pride.

“This seals the deal, Vinnie,” I said. “I’ll be investing in your business.”

“Me too,” Anastasia added enthusiastically.

“What the hell,” Levi muttered. “I’ll invest as well.”

Anastasia and I glanced over at him in surprise.

“Seriously?” I asked.

He shrugged. “While I find your delicacy disgusting, I’m always looking for solid investments.”

“Outstanding,” Vinnie said. “Shall we meet to discuss the arrangements later this evening?”

“Tomorrow,” I said. “We have a lot to do today.”

Vinnie bowed and turned to leave.

“Vinnie, do you read the rags?” I called after him.

He turned back and shook his head. “No. I’m uninterested in lies and defamation. Why? Should I?”

“Nope,” I replied, then paused. The Devil’s message from Elle danced in my brain. Everything is connected. Don’t discount small details that seem unimportant. The old are wise. Where the heart is involved, follow it. The enemy is within and the goal is large.

Vinnie was definitely old, and I had very little to lose right now, considering we were behind the curve on the exploding shitshow. Ethan would have sent for me if the situation had changed. Maybe Vinnie was one of the wise ones.

“Do you happen to know anything about Zombies?” I asked.

“Sadly, I do,” he said, pausing in the doorway. “I always thought them to be myth.”

“They’re not a myth,” I said.

“So terribly sad and unnecessary.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, poofing across the room and appearing next to him.

He jumped in surprise, then smiled and patted my head. “It’s a terrible tale.”

“Not following,” I said. “We have Zombies. They’re killing Vampyres.”

Vinnie paled and grasped my hand in his. His body shook like a leaf. “Inhumane,” he hissed. “It’s inhumane.”

“Explain,” I insisted, walking him to the bleachers and seating him so he didn’t collapse.

“It’s what happens when a human is half-turned,” he whispered.

“Zombies are not reanimated dead humans?” Anastasia questioned. “Like in the movies?”

“The movies rarely get anything right,” Levi added, joining the conversation.

“Lord Wrangler Tough Skins is correct,” Vinnie said, calling my brother by the name he had chosen. Although, the Count said it with far more respect than I did.

“You can call me Levi,” he said sheepishly.

Vinnie nodded and clasped his hands to his heart. “Such a sad waste of life—evil and barbaric. They must be beheaded.”

“Who, the Zombies or the Vamps who created them?” I asked flatly.

“Both,” Anastasia said emotionlessly.

“Very difficult to do from the stories of old I vaguely remember,” Vinnie said. “Only one who was very old and skilled could stop drinking at the right moment to create a Zombie.”

The information was horrifying. If Vamps were half-turning humans into Zombies, the human authorities would soon be involved. If the number of living dead continued to grow, there wouldn’t be enough mind wiping to save us.

“Do you recall anything else?” Anastasia inquired as her fangs dropped and her eyes began to glow dangerously.

She was fabulously scary. And it was a very good question.

“Female,” Vinnie said. “The venom of a female Vampyre is the key to turning a human into a Zombie.”

“Well, that knocks out at least half of the North American Vamps,” I said, beginning to pace. Movement helped me think.

“You think it’s one of your own?” Anastasia questioned, joining me.

“Ethan doesn’t think so, but Satan had a cryptic message from the Keeper of Fate. He said that the enemy was within and the goal was large,” I told her.

As I began to jog the track to clear my head and try to decipher what Satan had said, I was joined by Levi, Anastasia, and even Vinnie.

“Where are we going?” Vinnie asked, doing his best to keep up.

“Nowhere fast if we don’t stop the Zombies and the Vamp responsible. It looks like we might be going to Hell,” I said, picking up my speed.

“Literally?” Anastasia asked as she sped in front and halted me.

“Yep. I might need Satan to clear this shit up. Cryptic messages are not working for me.”

“He won’t… he can’t,” Levi said. “He has given you all he’s allowed to give. I despise him, but I can tell when he’s lying. The rules are set, Astrid. It’s how it works in our world.”

“That’s just stupid,” I snapped, motioning for everyone to back up. With a wave of my hand, I blew out the entire back wall of the training center. The sound of the explosion was glorious. The rubble would take a week to be removed and then the center would have to be rebuilt. There was too much damage for me to reverse it without using up strength that I needed right now.

Anastasia squeaked. Levi laughed. Vinnie applauded.

“Impressive,” my sister-in-law said dryly. “Remind me to never piss you off.”

“Will do,” I said, grabbing my crown and plopping it on my head.

I was fully aware I looked ridiculous. I had healed, but my fatigues were covered in dried blood. For a brief moment, I considered snapping my fingers and changing into something not covered in crusty red goo.

“Stay as you are,” Anastasia said. “It’s very badass. The crown is the pièce de résistance. Trust me. If I didn’t know you, I’d run like hell if I saw you headed my way.”

Giving her a lopsided grin and a thumbs up, I didn’t change a thing. I was a badass. I may as well look the part.

Chapter Fourteen

The Situation Room was busy. There were Vamps on phones and computers. Everyone was armed to within an inch of their undead lives. The tension was high as information was exchanged with the West Coast Vamps.

A few of the Cressida House Vampyres could scry, and they were intensely focused on a bowl of water. Ethan was in a terse conversation with David, Jax and Matthew.

While Vinnie had retired to his suite, Anastasia and Levi stayed with me.

“Ethan,” Anastasia said. “With your permission, I would like to be of assistance. If you want me to leave, I will understand and do so.”

Ethan turned and gave his sister a tight but appreciative smile. “I would like you to stay. Are you up to speed?”

“For the most part, yes,” she said.

He nodded curtly then took in my bloody disarray with a smile that reached his beautiful gold eyes. “Are you good?”

“Perfect,” I replied. “We’ll need a construction crew for the training center.”

“I thought I heard an explosion,” he said with a raised brow.

“You did,” Levi said, shaking his head. “Your mate is very destructive.”

“Just the way I like her,” Ethan replied giving me a quick but thorough kiss on the lips. “I need you to make the call I didn’t want you to have to make. I have people out searching for the reporters. My gut tells me they’re the key. As soon as we locate the Zombies, we’re sending in backup. Until then, we deal with averting one disaster at a time.”

When Ethan was all business, he was hot. Actually, he was always hot. Shoving my poorly timed thoughts away, I focused on the shitshow at hand. Save the world first. Bang my mate afterwards.

“You sure you want me to call her?” I asked. I’d already done a tremendous amount of damage to the compound today. “If Mother Nature shows up, we’ll probably have to do a complete rebuild.”

“Yes, I don’t trust Wilhem to dismiss his army,” he said. “I won’t take the risk. Our people are already edgy. Compounding the issue will not help.”

“He said he would turn them around,” I reminded Ethan.

“What he says and what he does are not lining up at the moment. His consort had a meltdown when she was made aware my brother’s help wasn’t welcome. Instead of silencing her, he catered to her behavior—very disturbing. Catriona seems determined to have Wilhem save the day. I had to have them physically removed from the Situation Room.”

“Carolinainnia needs to take a fucking hike,” I muttered, pulling out my cell phone. “If Wilhem mates with her, he’s an idiot.”

“That’s the popular opinion,” Anastasia said, sitting down next to Jax and studying the maps and intel. Levi looked over her shoulder.

One of the Guards stepped into the room and cleared his throat. He was doing his damnedest not to laugh. “Sorry to bother you, my Liege, but Martha and Jane are insisting they need to teach you and Astrid how to remove a sphincter.”

“Nope” I said. “Not happening.”

Ethan shook his head then pointed to Matthew and David. “I don’t have time for their shenanigans right now. You two take care of that, please.”

The Elite Guardsmen blanched but nodded as they exited the room.

Better them than me.

I dialed Mother Nature quickly. Time was of the essence. The phone rang three times. The scream of excitement when my grandmother answered almost blew out my eardrum and all of the eardrums in the room. Mother Nature was one of a kind… and she was loud.

“Gigi,” I said, holding the phone away from my throbbing ear. “How are you?”

“I’ve been better, darling. How are you and to what do I owe the pleasure of the call?”

“Well, I have an issue, and I was hoping you could stop by and give me a hand,” I told her as Ethan stood next to me and listened to the exchange.

“That’s a bit of a problem, my sweet Astrid,” she lamented. “I was pole dancing for your grandpa and the darndest thing happened. As I was doing my dismount, which was supposed to have me landing spread eagle on Bill’s face, I slipped and tore my leg clean off my body. It’s just a mess. Blood everywhere.”

“I’m sorry, what did you just say?” I choked out.

“It’s crazy! Right?” she said with a giggle. “I might have oiled myself up a bit too much. I watched a video on the interwebs where all the gals had glistening skin. Not one of them slipped off the pole and lost an appendage. I’m considering a lawsuit.”

“You have no legs?” I asked, trying to imagine the logistics of what she’d just overshared.

“Just my right leg. The left leg is fine and very shiny,” she confirmed. “It should grow back in a few hours. Can your issue wait?”

“Umm… no,” I told her. “But no worries.”

“So sorry, darling,” she said, then dropped her phone. “Son of a bitch, my hands are greasy too. Can we chat later? It’s just an oleaginous hot mess here in Nirvana at the moment.”

“Yep,” I yelled into the phone so she would hear me. “Love you, Gigi. Get better and tell Grandpa I love him too.”

“Will do, sweetheart. Always good to chat!”

“Shit,” I said, tucking my phone into the pocket of my blood-crusted pants.

“It’s coming true,” Ethan said.

“What’s coming true?”

“Your dream. Mother Nature ripped her leg off in your dream. Granted, she wasn’t trying to land spread eagle on Bill’s face, but she did tear her leg off,” he said, trying not to laugh.

He failed. I joined him. Laughing at inappropriate times was a specialty of mine—especially in times of stress. Honestly, it was better than blowing shit up. The only part of my dream that I wanted to come true was Nana’s return. Why were all the shitty parts coming to fruition and not the one thing that would be wonderful? Hell, I was definitely staying away from thrones today. Having my ass glued to velvet would be wildly inconvenient.

“We’ll be fine,” Ethan said. “If Wilhem’s men won’t leave, you will handle as many as you can, and we’ll put the rest in the dungeon if we have to. The main objectives are eliminating the Zombies and finding the source.”

“We got the reporters,” Matthew said, entering the room with wild eyes and fangs out.

Ethan’s smile was positively terrifying. He was not screwing around. “All of them?” he demanded.

“All five from the list,” David confirmed as he walked in behind Matthew and joined the conversation. “Martha and Jane captured every one of them. They’re in the interrogation room.”

“Under guard?” Ethan asked.

“Yes, my Liege, and bound in silver,” Matthew replied.

“The one whose sphincter we got last night isn’t walkin’ so good,” Martha announced with pride as she and Jane waddled into the room. “Want me to remove the rest of their buttholes?”

“Umm… no, but thank you,” Ethan said, wincing. “That will not be necessary.”

“Can we shake those mother humpers down for info?” Jane asked. “We have the perfect form of torture if they don’t wanna talk.”

“And what exactly is that?” I asked, terrified of the answer.

The old idiots exchanged smug glances. “While we’re the champions of American Idol, there’s one song that we’ve been forbidden to sing by our hot-ass, reluctant mentor, Simon Cowell,” Martha explained as all the Vamps in the room paled at the thought of Martha and Jane singing anything.

“Yep,” Jane chimed in, adjusting her sequined leggings that had somehow drooped low enough for her to look like a plumber with her crack hanging out. “Last time we warbled the melody there was so much blood squirting out of the ears of our audience, we felt a little bad. It also made us hungry, but that’s not pertinent to the story.”

“It was fuckin’ brain shattering,” Martha added. “Literally.”

“So, you’re going to go in there and sing this song until they come clean?” Ethan asked, squinting at them in disbelief.

“Dang right we are,” Jane told him. “Trust me, after the first chorus, they’re gonna be beggin’ to tell us what they know.”

“It’s creative,” Jax pointed out, biting back a grin.

“And vicious,” David added.

“Just might work,” Matthew said, looking at Ethan. “They certainly won’t be expecting it.”

Ethan closed his eyes for a second, then laughed. “Fine. I need names. I need the names of anyone who fed them the Zombie information. I need to know what they know. Everything they know, including if they’re privy to who’s behind it.”

“And I want to know which dumbass said my dress was boring,” I added.

“On it,” Martha said, marching across the room with Jane right behind her.

“What song are they singing?” Anastasia asked with a frightened expression, clearly remembering she’d won a six-hour and thirty-two-minute private concert.

I snapped my fingers and provided everyone with enchanted earplugs. “I have no clue, and I don’t ever want to hear it.”

“Put in the earplugs,” Ethan instructed. “We have no time for anyone’s brain to explode.”

He didn’t have to ask twice.

* * *

“He’s not at the compound,” Jax said, entering the room looking furious. “He’s disappeared.”

“More like running for his undead life,” I said.

“Find him,” Ethan snarled. “Now.”

“Yes, your majesty,” Jax said, exiting quickly.

While the gals had been busting on brains and eardrums, I’d updated Ethan and the Guards on what I’d learned from Vinnie. Ethan, Jax, Matthew and David had been appalled at the tale of how Zombies were created. Jax had a distant memory of the story but had always thought it was a myth, just as Vinnie had. Unfortunately, there was still no word on the location of the ten new Zombies.

There were four of us around the table now, Ethan, Levi, Anastasia and me. Martha and Jane stood off to the side since they were drenched in blood and still hyped up from the unusual interrogation that had provided a wealth of information.

“Okay,” I said, pressing my temples and trying to make sense of what we’d learned. “So, Walter the uppity door Vamp has been feeding the tabloids information.”

“Yep,” Jane said. “Took a whole chorus to get that out of the scumbag reporters.”

“Snarky asshole,” Martha muttered. “I didn’t like that little fucker when he wouldn’t let us in to see you last night.”

“I was ready to have a go at his sphincter, but wasn’t sure who he was,” Martha said. “I was a little worried he might be Ethan’s brother and thought that would be kind of embarrassing for everybody if I ripped out a Prince’s bunghole.”

“But they don’t know who Walter was reporting to,” I continued.

“You got it,” Martha said. “I twerked for that info.”

“Awesome,” I said, blocking the unappetizing visual. “And now, he’s conveniently disappeared.”

“Correct,” Ethan ground out.

“How long has he worked at the Cressida House?” I asked, remembering that Ethan said he was a new member.

“Three months,” Ethan said.

“Three months too long,” Levi pointed out.

“Not helping,” I snapped.

“My bad,” Levi conceded, surprising me. “I’ll keep my accurate opinions to myself.”

Ethan’s lips compressed to a flat line. “Leviathan is correct. Walter was clearly a mistake. I vetted him myself and found no problems. I was wrong.”

“When dealing with deadly predators, we all make mistakes,” Anastasia said in a tone that sent shivers skittering up my spine. “I had to dismiss several traitors recently.”

“Define dismiss,” Levi said, eyeing Anastasia with curiosity.

“Use your imagination,” she shot back, then turned her attention to Martha and Jane. “Was that all they knew? Don’t leave out small details. Everything is of importance.”

“Well, now, lemme think,” Jane said, scratching her head. “Wait. They said something about being paid from a foreign bank account by Walter.”

“What country?” Ethan asked, doing his best to stay calm, but clearly frustrated by the piecemeal information coming from the dummies.

No one could be in the room with them during the interrogation. It was too dangerous to our brain matter. And now we were stuck with Martha and Jane haphazardly debriefing us. Not a great situation for the Situation Room.

“Don’t rightly know,” she said. “But the one who’s missing a butthole did say that Walter told him change was on the horizon and life would be better for the undead.”

“Are all dead people cryptic?” I snapped. “There could be a hundred Zombies by now. What’s the word from California?”

Ethan typed at the laptop so fast, I didn’t even see his hands move. “Still working to locate the ten that Lizard reported were newly created this morning.”

Levi slid his phone across the table. I caught it and glanced down at the screen.

“The Vamps aren’t coming through, but the Demons certainly are,” Levi said smugly.

“Lizard knows where they are,” I said, standing up. “We need to go.”

“I need you here to disperse with Wilhem’s army if they refuse to leave,” Ethan said, rising from his chair. “I’ll take Jax, Matthew and David and go.”

“Nope,” I said, putting my hand on his sleeve. “One, I’m unkillable. If a Zombie takes a bite, I’ll be fine. Two, Wilhem is a sexist asshat. Neither he nor his army are going to listen to a word I say. And unless you want them wiped off the face of the Earth, you should deal with them, not me.”

“She has a point,” Anastasia said. “While I don’t want to believe that Wilhem is staging a coup, I don’t know what to think.”

“You think our brother is behind this?” Ethan asked, looking murderous.

“Honestly, no—not the Zombie part,” she answered. “But his jealousy of you might be driving him to make you look bad since the opportunity has arisen.”

“Fuck,” Ethan snarled, looking up at the ceiling and debating his next move. “I will stay. Astrid will go. Jane and Martha will join you.”

Ethan’s eyes blazed and his ire filled the room.

“I’m going as well. My mind-wiping skills are unparalleled. That will come in handy if the human authorities have discovered anything,” Anastasia said.

“I prefer to fight my own battles, but your expertise is welcome,” he conceded to his sister. “My ego will never get in the way of the safely of my people… no matter how many traitors I have in the ranks.”

“I’m ready to go,” I told him. “You focus on your part and I’ll focus on mine. We’ve got this.”

“From your lips to your Uncle God’s ears,” Ethan said.

“Holy Hell,” I groused as I turned away from Ethan and armed myself from the stocked weapons cabinet in the room. “How many different wars can we be fighting at the same time?”

“Don’t be so sure they’re not all one and the same,” Levi warned as he selected weapons for himself.

“You’re coming?” I asked.

“You’re a fucking menace,” he replied without looking at me. “Someone needs to make sure you don’t blow up California. You feel me?”

“My line,” I said.

“Nope. My line,” he said. “I just let you borrow it.”

I smiled. He loved me. My brother might not know it yet, but he did.

Ethan kissed me again, then directed his attention to the group. “Magic will not work. Swords will. It’s hand to hand, and the head of the Zombie must be removed completely. The stench is quite debilitating. If even a single tendon is still attached after decapitation, it will come back to life. Am I clear?”

“You are.” Anastasia wrinkled her nose. “Disgustingly so.”

“Astrid is in charge. Watch each other’s backs and keep me informed.” Ethan squeezed my hand, then left to check back in with the guards.

“Shee-ott,” Martha said, loading her purse with throwing stars. “Zombies are nasty.”

“Word,” Jane agreed, strapping on so many swords that I thought she might fall over. “Glad I’m not a fucking Zombie. I’d rather be undead than the living dead. I mean, those stanky bastards do get to eat, but eatin’ human flesh makes me wanna blow chunkies. Which is mother humpin’ impossible ’cause I’m undead… the good kind of dead.”

“True dat,” Martha agreed. “Give me sardines on a graham cracker any day, but I’ll pass on a femur.”

I froze. “Jane, repeat what you said.”

“About chunkies?” she asked, confused.

“No, the other part.”

“About eating flesh?”

“Oh my hell, no,” I told her.

Levi cut in before I electrocuted Jane. “The part about wanting to be undead instead of the living dead because she’s already undead… the good kind of dead?” he questioned, looking at me like I was nuts.

He wasn’t wrong. I was nuts. However, it was part of my charm. “Yesssssss,” I said. “It’s wordplay.”

“Not following,” Anastasia said.

“You don’t have to,” I said as my brain raced, trying to make sense of something that was as clear as mud. “I’m not sure I’m following. It hasn’t clicked yet.”

“Well, there’s a decisive leader I’m willing to follow into battle,” Levi said sarcastically.

“You don’t have to come,” I shot back just as scornfully.

“Don’t you worry about nothing,” Martha assured Levi, slapping him on the back. “Knockers McKnobs likes to pull battle plans out of her ass. Works like a dream every time.”

Closing my eyes, I refrained from setting Martha on fire. It would be counterproductive. Besides, she was defending me. She was also correct. I did pull strategies out of my rear end. I made decisions in the moment due to life and the end of the Universe being an ever-changing playing field.

“Here’s the deal,” I said. “The plan right now is to destroy the Zombies and get back to the Cressida House before Wilhem’s men show up. Period. If there’s a wrinkle, we go with the flow.”

“Works for me,” Anastasia said, strapping on a katana.

“Oh, and if you see any thrones along the way, do not sit on them,” I instructed.

Levi gave me a strange look. “May I ask why?”

“No, you may not. It would take too long to explain,” I snapped. “Just trust me on that. And if there is any cake laying around, don’t eat it. It’s poisoned. Also, don’t heckle me if I tell jokes.”

“Roger that,” Martha said, saluting me.

“Have you lost your mind?” Levi asked with a laugh. “Those are the most bizarre commands I’ve ever heard.”

Jane nodded and grinned. “Hooters LaBlubbernubs is batshit crazy, but I’d ride shotgun with her to the Basement of Hell and back. Just go with it.”

“Astrid defines the term shit-for-brains, but she’s badass. She won’t let nothing awful happen to you. She’s the fucking best there is,” Martha promised, making me stop in my tracks.

“Did you just call me by my name?” I asked, ignoring the shit-for-brains part.

“Whoops, my bad, Chesty Skinsacks” Martha said with a cackle. She then turned deadly serious. Bowing to me and almost falling on her ass, she staggered back to her feet. “I know we give you crap, but we would follow you to the end of the Universe and die for you.”

I was shocked to silence for a moment and moved as well. Nodding curtly, so I didn’t ruin a profanely beautiful moment, I held out my hands. “Everyone, touch me. I’m transporting us in a group.”

One by one, my small army of deadly Immortals placed their hands on me.

“Ready?” I asked as I made eye contact with each of them.

I was ready. My bloody attire was appropriate, and my crown was securely attached to my head. Perilously walking the fashion tightrope would normally bother me. Today, I embraced it.

“Born ready,” Levi said, winking at me.

“You love me,” I whispered.

“Maybe,” he conceded. “Let’s live through the next few hours, then we can discuss it.”

“Works for me.”

In a blast of sparkling icy purple mist, we took a trip to the West Coast to hunt for Zombies.

Chapter Fifteen

The nondescript black van was as cliché as you could get. After our arrival, it was cliché and cramped. Levi and Lizard exchanged respectful nods, and Anastasia was introduced to the unusual and violent Demon/Fairy.

While most Demons and Fairies were easy on the eye, Lizard was an anomaly. He was a bit on the scaly side and his eyes were a touch too close together. However, he did morph into a giant lizard, so his appearance wasn’t all that much of a surprise. His style was as horrendous as the loves of his life. Today he wore what I’d come to recognize as his work uniform—an ill-fitted black suit, a navy beret and green high-tops. It was bizarre enough to work for him.

Martha and Jane were thrilled to be united with their mate. When Lizard handed them Simon Cowell’s star from the Hollywood Walk of Fame, they almost passed out. However, when Martha started to remove her clothes to thank her man, I had no choice but to zap her.

“Not now,” I hissed, eyeing the warehouse where the Zombies were. Thankfully the dilapidated warehouse was in a deserted and rundown area on the outskirts of Los Angeles. “All ten are inside?”

Lizard smacked on his ever-present gum and rolled his baseball bats in his hands. “Yep. While I’m unable to off them, I was able to herd them here and lock them in.”

“You’re brilliant,” I told him.

“And hung like a trojan horse,” Martha added with pride as Lizard grinned.

“What’s the plan?” he inquired.

“We’re winging it,” I told him as he nodded his approval.

He was used to me by now. We’d been through a few ugly battles together. While my methods might be unorthodox, they worked… so far.

“We’re gonna castrate the Zombies,” Jane announced as I groaned and shook my head.

However, before I could correct her, Lizard decided to educate us. It was as terrifying as his bat and his outfit.

“Speaking of castration, it reminds me of a yarn I shared with Lucifer a little while back,” he said, not taking his beady eyes off the warehouse. “Did you know that phallo photo portaphilia is the urge to put one’s penis in a light socket? Or that Phalloween is concurrently celebrated with the human tradition of Halloween? You dress your penis up in a scary costume and go door-to door yelling Schwantz or Schwartz—either is acceptable. I prefer Schwartz, myself. And the topper is phallus booking—the act of shutting the penis in the center pages of a large hard-backed tome with considerable force.”

Levi threw his head back and laughed. Anastasia glanced over at him with a shy smile. Instead of flipping her off, he smiled back. There was a little something there. I would do my best to stay out of it. However, I was shitty at staying out of stuff that wasn’t any of my business.

“Lizard, was that graphic and gross yarn pertinent?” I asked, completely forgetting why I was even in the van for a brief moment. Between the covert flirting and Lizard’s fucked-up knowledge of disgusting trivia, I barely remembered my name.

Lizard nodded solemnly. “Yep. Phallus booking is a creative way to castrate without having to actually touch a Zombie pecker.”

“Mmmkay,” I said, staying diplomatic, since Lizard was one who easily lost his shit. “Jane was mistaken. We’re not castrating the Zombies. We’re decapitating the Zombies.”

“Makes more sense,” Lizard said. “Considering that seven of them are women and there’s a female child—about five years old.”

My stomach sank and I felt ill. “A child?” I choked out. I shook with rage. Black sparkles covered my arms and chest. My Demon side was showing. I was insanely close to doing structural damage. Levi’s calming hand on my shoulder pulled me back to reality. “Someone half-turned a child?”

Lizard growled and bashed out the driver’s side window with his bat. “Yep.”

I got a little satisfaction out of Lizard’s violent action, but now I was torn. There was no way I could decapitate a child—even a Zombie child. These humans had not asked for this fate. Their lives had been destroyed by Vampyres, and now, we were about to destroy the horrific lives they had left.

“Play with the words,” Levi whispered in my ear.

“What does that mean?” I asked, desperate for someone to translate the cryptic message.

Levi was silent for a long beat. He shrugged and touched my cheek. “I don’t know, Astrid,” he answered. “If I did, I would tell you.”

Nodding jerkily, I opened the van door and stepped out into the sunlight. Wiggling my fingers and sending protection magic to Martha and Jane’s skin so they wouldn’t fry to a crisp in the sun, I looked over at Anastasia. “Are you okay in sunlight?”

“I am,” she replied, joining me on the pitted black asphalt. “We can’t destroy a child.”

“Agreed,” I said grimly.

I paced the pavement and was glad I wore combat boots instead of the fifteen-inch Prada heels from my dream. I would have twisted my ankle repeatedly on the torn-up parking lot. Wordplay. Wordplay. Fuck. I loved to win. I wasn’t going to give up now.

“Levi, repeat what Jane said earlier, please.”

“Jane wants to be undead instead of the living dead because she’s already undead… the good kind of dead,” he said.

“Well, there’s your fucking answer,” Lizard said, crawling out of the van and pulling his pants out of his crack.

I wanted to peel my skin from my body and scream. What the hell was he talking about? I didn’t see the answer.

“Lizard,” I said through clenched teeth, hanging on to my sanity by a thread. “I’m going to ask you a question. If you give me a cryptic or unsatisfactory answer, I am going to shove your baseball bat up your ass and pull it out of your mouth. Does that work for you?”

Lizard grinned with appreciation at my unsavory and vicious threat and gave me a thumbs up.

“Excellent,” I said. “What did you mean by that’s my fucking answer?”

Lizard removed his gum from his mouth and stuck it to the end of his bat. He sat down on the holey pavement and motioned for all of us to come close. If he told another story about smashing a wanker in a book, I was going to ram the bat up his butt, gum and all.

“The living dead are half undead,” he whispered.

“Correct,” I said, as my stomach roiled. Then a small smile of understanding began to pull at my lips. Satan’s clues danced in my brain. ‘The living dead are going to be your ruin. This is not my problem. It’s yours. I’d suggest a little wordplay game. And that is a big fucking hint. I’d suggest you work to understand it as well. It might save your undead asses from the ones halfway there.’

“We need to finish the job,” I said. “Make the living dead the undead.”

“Pretty sure I just puked in my mouth,” Martha gagged out, paling considerably.

“That’s impossible,” Jane grunted, whacking her sidekick in the head. “But I know I just crapped my pants.”

“Also impossible,” I pointed out, realizing I was the one who was going to have to turn the ten living dead. I was the only one who wouldn’t end up a pile of ash if bitten. As much as I secretly fantasized about Martha and Jane’s early demise, it was only a fantasy. I loved the imbeciles and would protect them with my life. Anastasia was out of the equation as well.

“All of you will stay outside. I’m going in alone,” I ordered. “I can’t die. It’s too risky for the rest.”

“Lizard and I will join you,” Levi said, glancing over at Lizard, who nodded his agreement. “Because the Zombies were created by Vamps, I doubt they can destroy Demons.”

“True,” Lizard concurred. “I went at them earlier today. Got bit twice. I’m still standing.”

“Where were you bitten?” I asked, then wished I hadn’t.

The crazy man yanked his pants down all the way to the ground. He was wearing a glaringly sparkly and unfortunately revealing gold thong. To say it was alarming was an understatement. Anastasia quickly turned away to hide her laugh while Martha and Jane whipped out their cell phones to snap pictures. When he pointed to two vicious and raw-looking areas around his ankles, I almost electrocuted him.

“Was there a reason you had to drop trou to show us your ankles?” I asked.

Lizard pulled up his pants and grinned. “Nope.”

He was a piece of work.

“Bottom line,” Lizard continued, buttoning his pants and adjusting his beret. “Demons can be harmed, but not killed.”

“Done deal,” Levi said, checking his weapons. “The goal is to save them, but if that can’t happen, they have to be ended.”

“We can save them,” I said, hoping the words would make it come true. “We have to.”

“Your compassion could bite you in the ass,” Anastasia pointed out, looking worried.

“True,” I agreed. “But it can’t kill me.”

Chapter Sixteen

The interior of the warehouse was dank and dark. It didn’t matter since Demons and Vampyres could see as clearly in the darkness as they could in the light. My chest tightened in pain and anger as I stared at the horror in front of me.

“Who would do this?” I asked.

“A monster,” Levi said emotionlessly. “Someone with as little humanity as our father.”

“Harsh but true,” Lizard said, smacking his bat on the palm of his hand.

Ten half-dead, bloody beings with green-tinted skin writhed and screamed in agony. Their limbs were mangled and their flesh was rotting. Just like my dream. Slimy foam poured from their mouths and their eyes rolled in their partial skulls. Some of them appeared to be missing appendages as they moaned and gnashed their teeth.

The fastest creature had no lips—as if they’d been bitten off by a deadly kiss. His arm was mangled and chewed away so that the bones showed. And he looked hungry.

My nightmare had come to life.

As he approached, I shot up into the air and said a little prayer to my Uncle God in hopes that Zombies couldn’t fly. Lizard and Levi followed my lead and we floated about thirty feet above the tragedy below. The Zombies hadn’t flown in my dream, but reality was turning out to be far worse than any nightmare. There had been no child Zombie in my dream. My brother was correct in his assessment that only a monster could have done something so inhumane.

“I will find you, whoever you are, and you will pay dearly,” I whispered.

A screeching woman with her eyes gouged from her head threw herself on the ground below me and reached out with desperation. Her intestines dragged on the filthy floor beside her and I gagged. The stench was awful.

“I’m here to help you,” I called out over their cries and moans. “I’m not here to hurt you. You’ve already been hurt enough.”

There seemed to be little to no understanding of my words… except for the child. She watched my every move and didn’t make a sound. While everything around her was devastating, she was like a tiny Angel trapped in the worst part of Hell.

“Cover me,” I instructed. “Keep the others away. I’m turning the little girl first.”

“Roger that, boss,” Lizard said, swooping down and taunting the Zombies into following him to the far side of the large warehouse.

“I’ll hold her,” Levi said. “You do your bitey thing.”

“My bitey thing?” I asked, giving him a sideways glance.

He shrugged and grinned. “Is there a technical term for it?”

“Umm… no,” I said. “Bitey thing is descriptive and clear. I’ll go with it.”

“Need to move fast,” he said, diving down and grabbing the child from behind to stop her from following the others.

She didn’t fight him. She didn’t try to bite him. As he flew her to the opposite corner of the cavernous building, I poofed over. Had the little girl been able to hold on to some of her humanity since she was so young?

“Do it,” Levi insisted. “Lizard is good, but not that good. Have to move fast.”

Her arms were trapped at her sides in Levi’s strong embrace. She hadn’t bared her teeth. I wasn’t sure how much she could understand, but I was going to tell her something to waylay her fears in case she could comprehend words.

“I’m Astrid. I’m a Vampyre,” I said softly. Her curly dark hair was matted with crusted blood and covered her face. Her leg hung from the socket and there were open wounds all over her small frame. “What was done to you is wrong. I’m going to try to fix it. Right now, you’re the living dead. I’m going to make you undead. Do you understand me, sweetheart?”

I was a mother. She was a child. The situation was almost more than I could stand.

Gently pushing her hair out of her face, I froze in shock.

The sound that left my lips came from the darkest and most tortured part of my soul. A blast of something painful and electrifying shot through my body. White-hot rage warred with euphoria. The need to scream with joy was mixed with terror I’d never known. I shook like a leaf and clenched my fists at my sides to keep from doing damage. I needed to get a handle on myself.

“No, no, no, no,” I ground out, staring at a face I knew so well. Granted, I hadn’t known this exact version of the face except through photographs, but I knew who she was and what her face would become.

“Astrid,” Levi snapped in alarm. “Talk to me. NOW.”

“I know her,” I whispered, cupping her cheek in my hand. “She’s mine.”

“Explain,” Levi ground out, obviously thinking I’d lost my shit.

If what I was about to do didn’t work, I would lose my shit in a big way. “No time,” I said. “Tell me it will work.”

“I can’t,” he replied raggedly.

“Lie to me, Levi,” I begged. “Tell me I can turn her. Tell me I won’t kill her. Please.”

“Who is she?”

“She’s my Nana—Sarah. She’s been reincarnated. She’s come back to me.”

The words sounded like fiction. My life seemed like fiction. My normal wasn’t even remotely normal. I was undead. I was staring at my beloved Nana, who had been human and died right before I was turned. I’d visited her grave, and I’d visited her in Heaven. She promised me she would come back when the time was right. This could not be happening.

The timing was all wrong. A monster had destroyed her.

“You can turn her. You won’t kill her,” Levi told me. “You can do this. I believe in you.”

“Are you lying?” I asked.

“I sure as fuck hope not,” Levi said. “Do it, Astrid. The others are coming back.”

He was right. Lizard was doing his best, but it wasn’t going great.

Gently, tilting her head so her neck was exposed, I kissed her awful-smelling cheek. I didn’t even gag. “I love you, Nana. More than anything. It’s all going to be fine. You have my word.”

Extending my fangs, I bit into the soft skin of her neck with as much gentleness as I could. Her small frame went rigid in my brother’s arms. Tears rolled down her cheeks, but she didn’t fight me. A tiny hand reached out and cupped my cheek. The sweetness and trust made me forget about the rancid taste of her blood in my mouth. I closed my eyes and waited for the click in my mind that would happen when the change had taken.

Dislodging my fangs, I took the priceless cargo from Levi’s arms and cuddled her filthy body close. Slicing my wrist with my fangs, I put it to her mouth. When enough blood had slid down her throat for me to feel confident that she’d had enough, I continued to hold her close. Placing my ear on her chest, I listened as her heartbeat slowed… and then stopped. If I had breath to hold, I would have been blue in the face. Waiting for the child version of my Nana to open her eyes felt like eternity.

“Did it work?” Levi asked, peering at the small pale girl in my arms.

“I don’t know.”

Minutes passed. It felt like years.

And then a miracle happened.

Like a big-budget movie produced by my Uncle God, rays of sunlight streamed into the building from the holes in the ramshackle roof of the warehouse. As the light bathed the dead child in my arms, her big blue eyes popped open and she stared at me with intense curiosity. Her broken and bloody body slowly mended. She trembled and convulsed with the effort it took to heal.

The stench was gone and in its place was the gorgeous scent I remembered so well—freesia and lilies with a hint of brown sugar. “Sarah,” I whispered as she lay exhausted in my arms. “Do you know me?”

She touched my nose and smiled. “I’m not sure. Maybe,” she said softly. “Should I?”

I didn’t know how to answer. I didn’t know the rules. Upsetting her after what she’d been through was the last thing I wanted to do. She was only five years old. I needed to call Uncle God and figure out how to handle the wondrous situation.

“It doesn’t matter,” I told her, kissing her forehead. “Do you have a family?”

She shook her head. “No. I’m an orphan.”

“Not anymore,” I told her. “Would you mind if I took you home with me?”

“Do you have any puppies?” she inquired.

“Umm… no, but we can fix that very easily,” I promised, then glanced up at Levi, who was watching me closely.

“Can you take her out to the parking lot?” I asked. “Nothing can happen to her. Guard her with your life and keep her out of the sun.”

Levi nodded and held his arms out to Sarah. “As you wish.”

They disappeared in a flash of jet-back glittering mist. I stared at my hands for a brief moment. The hands that had just held one of the most beloved people in my life.

“Boss,” Lizard shouted as he danced like a crazy man, entertaining the remaining Zombies and staying out of biting range. “You got a plan?”

“Grab one from behind and fly them high. Keep the arms pinned to the sides,” I instructed, shooting into the air. “We’re gonna do floating surgery.”

“You’re as batshit crazy as I am,” Lizard said with a whoop of laughter as he grabbed a Zombie from behind and flew her up.

“Crazier,” I replied. “Let’s do this shit.”

Lizard had been incorrect about the genders of the Zombies. There were five females including Sarah and five males. Several of the men had longer hair, so the mistake was understandable, since they’d been such a hot mess an hour earlier.

I was covered in blood and guts from the tip of my combat boots to the top of my crown. Lizard was too. Not to mention, we stunk something awful. But I was thrilled. Everyone had made it through the change. And while they were extremely confused, they were alive—in a relative definition of the word.

* * *

“So, you’re saying we’re Vampyres?” a woman asked with doubt written all over her rapidly healing face.

“Umm… yes,” I replied, answering the same question for the fifth time.

I knew it was difficult to believe, but I needed them to get with the program fast. Sarah was sound asleep in Anastasia’s arms and Levi stood guard right next to them. When Lizard and I had completed the mission and it was safe, the rest had joined us in the warehouse.

An older gentleman around seventy raised his hand politely.

“Yes?” I asked. “You have a question?”

“I do,” he replied. “Can I shift into a bat? I think that would be rather delightful.”

“No,” I told him, trying not to laugh. “Sorry. Vampyres don’t shift into bats.”

“That’s quite sad,” he replied. “I was hoping to scare the living daylights out of my no-good, cheating ex-wife. She’s terrified of flying rodents.”

I nodded. He was going to be a trip. From here on out, his nickname would be Bat Man.

“Do we have to sleep in coffins?” another man with an enormous mustache asked.

“Not unless that’s your thing,” I explained.

“So, you’re saying it’s not a requirement?” Mustache Man pressed.

“Not a requirement,” I assured him with the smallest eye roll possible.

Mustache Man played with his fangs for a moment, cut his finger and then asked another question. “And if we’d like to sleep in a coffin, will those be provided by management?”

I didn’t know how to answer that one. Martha chimed in while I was still trying to figure out how to field the bizarre request.

“Listen here, hot pants,” Martha said. “Management is very open to weird shit. You wanna be a freak and sleep in a coffin, you do that. However, you’re gonna have a hard time getting laid. I’ll make this shit as plain as I can. Being undead is fucking great. You live forever unless you get decapitated. I’d suggest avoiding that. It would hurt like a mother humper. While you can’t eat food anymore, you do get to drink blood.”

The crowd of newly made Vampyres wrinkled their noses in distaste.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Martha continued. “I was gacked out in the beginning too, but just wait till you taste it. Delicious!”

“The jackass is telling the truth,” Jane said. “And if you like to fornicate, you can do it twenty-four-seven now. For you males out there sporting a salami, you can direct all your blood to your pecker and bang until you forget your name.”

The crowd was impressed by that fact. I was really glad Sarah was sleeping. This was not a chat for children’s ears.

“Darn tootin,” Martha added. “You don’t have a reflection and your anal sphincter is now totally unnecessary.”

“Why?” one of the gals called out.

“Your poop shoot doesn’t work anymore,” she explained. “No more poopin’, peein’ and no more time of the month for the ladies.”

“That’s right,” Jane said. “Think of all the moolah you’re gonna save on toilet paper since you don’t have to make a stinky offering to the porcelain throne anymore. But heed this shit, do not—I repeat, do not—go out in the sun just yet unless you want to look like a raw piece of hamburger meat for a week.”

“Amen to that,” Martha agreed. “Took me a couple years to remember that one.”

“Okay,” I said, cutting them off. “Hold the rest of your questions, please. What I need to know now is if any of you remember anything about being turned into Zombies?”

Two of the women started to cry and were shocked when they realized their tears consisted of blood. Martha and Jane waddled over to the women and comforted them. As idiotic and horribly dressed as the old gals were, the wrinkled dummies were kind.

The gentleman who wanted to be a bat raised his hand again. “I remember a little,” he said with a shudder.

“Can you tell me?” I asked, walking over to where he sat, squatting down and taking his hand in mine. “It’s very important for me to know so I can stop this from happening to others.”

He nodded and paled. “It was a woman. I was blindfolded. I saw her so briefly, I can’t tell you much other than she was short in stature. She promised money to my charity—unheard-of money. I run a nonprofit for hunger. It was such a welcome and intriguing offer. Could have made a real difference to a lot of people in need.”

“How much?” I asked.

“One million,” he replied, horribly embarrassed. “I should have known it was too good to be true.”

“Lizard, can you take notes for me, please?”

“Sure thing,” he replied, producing a pen and notebook out of thin air.

“What’s your name?” I asked Bat Man.

“It’s Adam. Adam Fest,” he replied.

I giggled. I couldn’t help it.

“Is that funny?” he inquired, perplexed.

“A little,” I admitted. “In my head, I’ve been calling you Bat Man and your name is Adam Fest—kind of similar to the original actor, Adam West.”

He chuckled and patted my hand. “I rather like Bat Man. I shall go with it.”

I could tell I was going to like Bat Man a lot. “Lizard, mark down a million dollars owed to Bat Man’s charity.”

“Done,” he replied, grinning and smacking on his gum.

The others had been promised money for their charities as well. It was truly horrifying. They’d been called to a meeting, attacked, blindfolded, tied up and brutally turned into Zombies. The false pretenses made the crime even uglier.

“What’s the damage?” I asked Lizard after I’d worked my way through the entire group.

“Fifteen million total,” Lizard said. “Who’s gonna pay for this?”

“I am,” I replied. “It’s the very least I can do.”

Anastasia handed a still sleeping Sarah to Levi and walked to my side. Taking my hand in hers, she squeezed it. “You are gorgeous inside and out… even covered in guts,” she said with a smile, then turned to the new Vamps. “I understand how you were lured into the trap, but Sarah is a five-year-old child. Does anyone know how she got caught up in this?”

“The woman said that the child was in honor of the Choosy One. Said it would destroy her,” Bat Man shared, confused by what he’d overheard.

“You mean the Chosen One?” I ground out, trying my best not to scare Bat Man.

“Possibly,” Bat Man said. “Actually, yes. It was Chosen not Choosy.”

My blood chilled and my fingers began to spark. Sarah had been harmed to hurt me. Who in their right mind would do this?

“Can anyone tell me what the woman looked like? Was she alone? A name perhaps?” Anastasia asked as I paced off my need to detonate the state of California.

“No name,” a gal named Sharon said. “She was alone, and it all happened so fast this morning, I didn’t get a look at her. I’m so sorry.”

“No,” I said forcefully, still pacing. “Do not be sorry. None of this is your fault.”

“I know,” a small voice from behind me said. “I saw her.”

I stopped dead in my tracks and turned to my brother, who held the reincarnated child version of my Nana in his arms. It was surreal.

“Tell me, Sarah,” Levi said, rocking her gently. “Tell me what the woman looked like.”

“Brown hair,” she said, touching her head just in case Levi didn’t know where hair was supposed to go.

He grinned and continued to rock her. “And her eyes?”

“These?” Sarah asked, pointing to her own.

“Yep, those,” Levi confirmed.

“Green. Green eyes.”

Anastasia began to growl. I grabbed her arm so she didn’t scare the newbies. And we still needed a little more info from Sarah. “Calm down,” I told my sister-in-law, which was ironic, considering my fingers were still sparking and my arms were covered in black magical glitter. “That description could be anyone. You think you know who she’s talking about?”

“I might,” she ground out and pulled herself together. Walking over to Levi and Sarah, Anastasia gently stroked the child’s hair. The three of them made a beautiful picture. “Sarah, did this woman have any marks on her face? Like a pink line someone might have drawn?”

I sucked my bottom lip into my mouth and waited. The adrenaline pumping through my system was dizzying.

“With a crayon?” Sarah asked seriously.

“Could have definitely been a pink crayon,” I said, approaching the trio.

Sarah’s face lit up when she saw me, and she reached for me. Scooping her from Levi’s careful embrace, I held her close and breathed her in. There were no consequences. No mistakes. I was supposed to be right here. Right now.

“Pink crayon line from here to here,” Sarah said, drawing an invisible line from the side of her left eye to the corner of her mouth.

“She did it this morning when she was supposedly out walking the grounds,” Anastasia spat, shaking her head in disgust. “Turning a child is punishable by death. My God, turning a child into a Zombie should be punishable by multiple deaths.”

“If only that was an option,” I said through clenched teeth. One death would have to do. “I just added offing Catriona to my agenda later this afternoon.” I handed Sarah back to Levi. The need to crawl out of my skin was overwhelming. One thing at a time. One foot in front of the other. Make sure Ethan knows what’s going on. Make sure Sarah is safe. Make sure the new Vampyres are safe. Kill Catriona with my bare hands.

It was a good and positive list.

“Boobala McKnockerhooters, the newbies are gettin’ hungry,” Martha said, sounding worried. “We’re gonna have a problem on our hands if we don’t feed ’em.”

I went on autopilot. “Anastasia, call Ethan. Now. Tell him to put Catriona and Wilhem in the dungeon immediately. Explain why afterwards. Martha and Jane, can you poof the new Vampyres back to the Cressida House without landing in the rose garden?”

“Yes, we can,” Jane said, looking wildly uncertain.

“How about I poof with them?” Lizard suggested with a grin. “Safer that way.”

“Perfect. Take them to Vinnie. He has cases of flavored blood with him. Feed our new people and make sure they have everything they need.”

“Roger that,” Martha said, gathering the new Vamps close.

“Lizard, I’m trusting you with something more important than my own life,” I said, nodding to Levi to hand Sarah over to the nutty, beret-wearing Demon. “I want you to poof back with her and not leave her side until I come to you.”

“It will be an honor,” Lizard said, taking Sarah and blowing a raspberry on her arm.

Sarah’s delighted giggle floated in the dank air and for a brief moment, I felt true happiness. However, the happiness was fleeting.

“I can’t get Ethan on the line,” Anastasia said frantically. “And my text won’t go through.”

Grabbing my phone, I tried Matthew, then Jax, then David. All to no avail. “Change of plans,” I snapped. “Have Vinnie meet you in Hell with the bottled blood. You’ll be safer there.”

“Vamps can only stay in Hell for a limited time,” Levi reminded me.

“True,” I agreed. “However, they have several days. I’m not worried. Satan owes me. If they need to stay longer, I’ll call in a favor.”

“Badass,” Lizard said with a wink. “Let’s go.”

In a massive flash of shimmering lavender mist, I sent all of the newly turned Vampyres, along with Martha, Jane, Lizard and Sarah, to Hell.

“One more call,” I insisted to a confused Anastasia and Levi. “And then we poof back to the Cressida House.”

“To do what?”

“Not sure what you guys want to do, but I’m going to rip Catriona’s head off her body with my bare hands.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Levi said with a thumbs up.

“A fine plan indeed,” Anastasia agreed.

Thankfully, Mother Nature picked up on the first ring.

“Gigi, did your leg grow back yet?”

“It did, darling! Do you still need my assistance?” she asked.

“Yes,” I said tersely. “I need you to transport to the Cressida House. Now.”

“As in right now? This very minute?” she asked, getting a bit hysterical at the tone of my voice.

“This very second,” I said. “I’ll meet you there in two minutes.”

“For you, darling, anything,” she shouted in a tizzy as she hung up.

“Touch me,” I instructed. “We are moving, and we’re moving fast. First priority is Ethan’s safety. If Ethan hasn’t figured out who the bad guys are, which I think he has, we go straight for Catriona and Wilhem. If they’re already in the dungeon, run interference for Mother Nature and me while we send Wilhem’s army back to South America. Anything else… wing it.”

“This is way more interesting than Hell,” Levi muttered as he took my hand.

“Maybe you should stick around for a little while then,” I told him.

He grinned and glanced over at Anastasia, who refused to meet his gaze. “Maybe I will.”

Chapter Seventeen

I don’t know what I expected, but it certainly wasn’t what I arrived home to witness. We had definitely entered the wing-it zone.

“What the actual fuck?” I muttered as I felt Levi and Anastasia materialize next to me.

“And then some,” Levi added.

Over two hundred unfamiliar and highly armed Vampyres stood facing the Cressida House behind a crazed-looking Catriona. Wilhem stood silently next to her with his men flanking them on all sides. One of Catriona’s hands flailed wildly, and the other was possessively on Wilhem’s back.

We’d landed to the far left side of the palace behind a grove of blossoming apple trees. Unlike Martha and Jane landing in the rose bushes, I’d chosen this spot. Having no clue what was going down, I wanted to arrive under the radar. We were fifty yards from the action.

Ethan stood about a hundred feet away from his possibly soon-to-be-dead brother with our palace at his back. Behind Ethan stood at least forty Elite Guards. We were outnumbered. However, forty of our men and women were probably worth a thousand of Wilhem’s men.

“He’s not with her,” Levi said.

“Who’s not with who?” I asked, not following.

“Wilhem’s not with his consort.”

“Looks to me like he’s standing right next to her,” I pointed out.

“Look at his stance,” Levi said. “It’s odd.”

“Your leadership is no longer needed or wanted,” Catriona shouted. “Wilhem will bring the North American Dominion together with the South American Dominion. As one, we will rule the entire world!”

Wilhem’s army cheered. Wilhem didn’t move a muscle.

“Something is off,” I said, agreeing with my brother. I just didn’t know what it was. “And Carolinainnia has lost her mind.”

“I will end that bitch,” Anastasia hissed with so much naked venom in her voice, I hated to remind her that I’d already called dibs on Catriona’s head. “Move over here and look from this angle. She has a sliver dagger at Wilhem’s back, aimed at his heart. She’s turned his men against him. Unbelievable.”

“There you go,” Levi said with smug satisfaction. “I was right.”

“You win,” I said tightly.

“What’s her end game?” Levi inquired. “You really believe his entire army has turned on him?”

“That’s a fine question.” I glanced over at Anastasia. “Thoughts?”

She shook her head and ran her hands through her hair in agitation. “I want to say that what we see is real,” she said. “However, at this point, I wouldn’t discount anything. My guess would be that she wants Ethan to kill Wilhem. She can cry foul. The South American army attacks and a coup ensues. She’s sown tremendous distrust in Ethan’s people by creating Zombies. It might work.”

“When Hell freezes over. Fuck,” I said, glancing around wildly. “Does anyone see Mother Nature?”

“No,” Anastasia said, her body as tight as a wire about to snap. “Where will she land?”

“She usually arrives with a jungle and slides in on a pole. There’s a fine chance she’s in the Grand Ballroom wondering what the heck is going on. I forgot to tell her where we would be.”

“Not nice to fool Mother Nature,” Levi pointed out.

“I am fully aware that you’re being sarcastic,” I told him with a raised brow. “However, you are correct. We could have so many problems on our hands shortly that no one is going to know what hit them.”

“Might not be a bad thing,” Anastasia said, still laser focused on Catriona and the silver spike aimed at her brother’s back.

Hold that thought,” I told her. “Ethan, I’m here. I can see you. Don’t turn around. I’m on the far left side of the palace with Anastasia and Levi. Catriona has a silver dagger at Wilhem’s back.”

“That information certainly sheds some light on the shitshow,” Ethan growled.

“Agreed. Also, I think Mother Nature landed in the palace or she poofed somewhere else altogether. Catriona is responsible for the Zombies. She created them herself. I have no clue if Wilhem was in on it.”

“I’m going to say no to that,” Ethan replied tersely. “His own men have apparently turned on him and now it appears his fucking consort is going to end him on my front lawn.”

“They’re some seriously bad houseguests,” I said.

“Understatement,” Ethan said flatly.

Levi chuckled. I’d forgotten he could hear us.

“Did you find Walter the jackhole traitor?” I asked.

“Yes,” Ethan said. “He won’t talk. He’s in the dungeon. Did you eliminate the Zombies?”

“Not exactly,” I told him.

His body stiffened. “Define not exactly.”

“The living dead were halfway turned. I finished the job. The ten Catriona tried to destroy this morning are all Vampyres now.”

“Oh my God, Astrid,” Ethan choked out. “You bit Zombies?”

“Yep, and I don’t want to do that anytime soon again. So, what’s the plan here?”

“At this point, we’re winging it,” Ethan said. “Being that the crazed bitch is holding a silver spike at the ready to shove into my brother’s heart, I think it’s the most prudent plan. He’s an asshole, but I don’t want him dead.”

“Vampyres are insane,” Levi said. “I don’t see how you idiots stay alive with all the winging you do.”

“You have a better idea?” I asked.

“Actually, yes.”

“Spit it out.”

“You people have laws. Right?” he asked.

“Umm… yes,” I said, realizing I had no clue about the minutiae of Vampyre law.

“We do,” Anastasia confirmed. “Tell me where you’re going with this, Demon.”

“Well, Vampyre,” Levi shot back coolly. “What’s the punishment when just cause has been served.”

Anastasia’s smile was positively wicked. “Death.”

“Just cause,” I said, getting excited. “It was in my dream, and my Baby Demons talked about it. As did Uncle Fucker. That’s it! Do you guys know what it means?”

Levi rolled his eyes. “Might be different for you wingers.”

“Probably not,” Anastasia commented dryly. “Notice must be served. A sufficient and fair investigation must take place, witnessed by an unbiased observer. Proof must be presented. If the burden of proof is met, punishment is doled out.”

“Close enough,” Levi said. “As I see it, the only part missing is the notice and the punishment. The woman turned a child. That alone is enough to put her out of our misery.”

“You’re awfully fair for a Demon,” Anastasia pointed out.

“Only on Tuesdays,” he replied sarcastically.

“It’s Wednesday,” she shot right back.

“Fuck,” Levi said with a grin and a shrug. “I meant Wednesdays.”

“An eye for an eye is also on the books,” Anastasia added.

“No can do,” I said forcefully. “That would mean Sarah would have to fight Catriona. I don’t see that ending well. She’s the only one who actually saw her.”

“Agreed,” Anastasia said. “We’ll stick with just cause. We still get to kill her.”

Vamps were a bloodthirsty sort. Today, I was feeling all Vamp.

“I would be delighted to serve notice right now,” I told them. “Levi, can you call Lizard and have him bring Sarah back. I need to satisfy the burden of proof.”

“You sure you want Sarah here?” Levi asked.

I closed my eyes. We could potentially end this with no violence if we could prove to Wilhem and his army what Catriona had done. Sarah was a Vampyre now—she was my Nana. Nana would want to take down the bad guy. I had to assume baby Nana was the same. “She saw Carolinainnia. She can identify her. As long as eye for an eye is off the table, we can keep her safe.”

“On it,” Levi said, walking away so he wouldn’t be overheard. “But I’m going to request extra Demon backup for Sarah.”

“Perfect,” I said, even though I knew I was all the backup Sarah would need. If necessary, I would end every single Vamp from the South American Dominion to keep Nana safe. However, doing it the legal way would ensure that the undead who took issue with my and Ethan’s leadership wouldn’t have a leg to stand on. “Anastasia, seeing as how you’re not a citizen of the North American Dominion and you witnessed the investigation, would you be so kind as to verify that the investigation was thorough and fair?”

“Hell to the yes,” she growled.

“But first, go get Walter. He might be useful,” I instructed. “He’s in the dungeon. You can’t miss it—totally typical dungeon. Play stupid with him. Pretend you’re breaking him out. Be worried about Catriona. Get him to talk.”

“You are absolutely brilliant,” Anastasia said, pulling out her cell phone and hitting the record button. “I’m on it.”

She poofed away in an icy pink mist.

“Where did Miss Hoity-Toity go?” Levi asked, glancing around.

Crossing my arms over my chest, I eyed him. “You like her.”

“I don’t like her. She’s a fucking Vampyre.”

“I’m a fucking Vampyre,” I reminded him.

His eye roll was Oscar worthy. “I have no plans on fucking either one of you, literally or figuratively. I’m a Demon. I don’t do Vamps.”

“Are you speciesist?” I demanded.

“That’s not even a word,” he replied.

“Actually, it is. Even if it weren’t, you know what I mean.”

“Yes, I know what you mean. And I’m not answering you. We have far more important shit to handle at the moment. You feel me?”

“My line.”

“Our line,” he corrected me with a grin that made me smile for real. “I think you have some notice to serve. Lizard will be here soon. Let’s get this fucked-up party started before Ethan loses a brother to a bitch.”

“You love me,” I said smugly as I grabbed his hand in preparation to transport us into the shitshow.

“You seem quite sure of yourself,” Levi replied archly.

“That’s because I am. You can’t help yourself. I’m fabulous.”

“And humble,” he pointed out with a grin.

“I’m half Demon,” I told him with an eye roll. “It’s to be expected.”

On that killer retort, I squeezed his hand and poofed us right into the middle of the action. The party was about to get wild.

Chapter Eighteen

In a shower of purple sparkles, Levi and I materialized right next to Ethan. The love of my undead life acknowledged me with a wink.

“Love you,” I told Ethan.

“Love you more,” he replied.

“No mushy shit. I can hear you people,” Levi grumbled.

“Your problem, not mine,” I told my brother. “Stop eavesdropping.”

“If only,” Levi muttered.

“Nice of you to show up,” Catriona hissed, starring daggers at me.

“Sooooo sorry,” I said, slapping my forehead. “I was showing Lord Wrangler Tough Skins around Kentucky this afternoon and we had a flat tire. Had to walk back because the spare was flat too. Took us hours. My bad.”

She stared at me like I was nuts. “Is that why you look and smell like Hell, Princess?” she asked as the army behind her roared with laughter. Wilhem’s face stayed neutral and he stood as still as a statue.

“She must have banged all of them,” I told Ethan and Levi. “That wasn’t funny at all.”

“Nope, it’s guts. I must smell like the living dead,” I said with a dingy laugh, hoping to throw her off her game. With the dagger at Wilhem’s back, we needed her to move. I could zap her into oblivion with my eyes shut, but it was too risky. If she fell forward before she burned to ash, Wilhem was a goner as well. I still wasn’t positive Ethan’s brother was innocent, but I didn’t want his death on my hands. As long as Catriona left the world today, I was good. “Wrangler wanted to go deep-sea fishing. Since we don’t have an ocean in Kentucky, we zipped out to California for a bit. You know, regular Tuesday afternoon fun.”

“Wednesday,” Levi corrected me.

“It’s actually Tuesday,” Ethan chimed in.

“Are you fucking serious?” Levi asked with a chuckle.

“Yes.”

“Your sister busted on me,” Levi said with a shake of his head.

Catriona’s eyes grew wide for a split second at the mention of the living dead and California, but she recovered quickly. “You see what I’m talking about?” she demanded, focusing on the Vampyres standing in solidarity behind Ethan and me. “Your leaders are insane. You have Zombies running rampant, and you’re being taxed for no reason. They’re stealing from you and letting Vampyre-eating Zombies kill our kind. Wilhem and I will not let that happen.”

She was barking up the wrong tree. The Elite Guard was loyal to us.

“Join me… and Wilhem,” she urged. “We have the strongest army in the Universe. South America and North America shall become even stronger together.”

“Excuse me, Carolinainnia,” I called out.

“It’s Catriona,” she hissed.

“My bad,” I said, stepping forward. “I’m putting you on notice. You’re being charged with creating Zombies. Not only did you create Zombies, you half-turned a child. That crime alone is punishable by death.”

“Ludicrous,” she said, throwing her head back and laughing. “Absolute rubbish.”

Wilhem made his first move. Slowly turning his head, he narrowed his eyes at his psychotic gal pal. “You created the Zombies? You didn’t tell me that.”

Even the army seemed surprised.

“Of course not,” she snapped. “Your brother has no control of his people.”

“Bring out the reporters,” Ethan instructed Jax. “I do believe there might be an interesting story unfolding.”

“Yes, my Liege,” Jax said with a grin and a respectful bow.

“You can’t win,” Catriona hissed at Ethan. “Your people have turned on you. It’s time for you to step down and let a real leader take the helm.”

“Is that you or Wilhem?” I asked. “You’re not even his mate.”

“It’s us, and we will become mates right now,” she said shrilly, realizing she might have forgotten a few important pieces in her climb to the top.

The explosion of black glitter shocked me and sent all of us hurtling back about twenty feet. I hoped to hell and back that Wilhem wasn’t a pile of ash. I was going to kick Lizard’s ass for such a stupid and dangerous entrance. I didn’t think he was that out of control and idiotic.

“Who thought it would be hilarious to give me a goddamned box of sphincters?” Satan roared.

Lizard wasn’t idiotic. The Devil was. Lizard wasn’t even here. The Devil had come solo… kind of. Thankfully, Wilhem was still alive. He had moved away from Catriona. His entire army was now confused and alarmed.

It wasn’t every day that Satan showed up at a farked-up Vampyre gathering shouting about giftwrapped buttholes. Even Carolinainnia seemed unsure what to do.

Uncle Fucker held a giggling Sarah in his arms. She was twisting his hair into tiny ponytails, and he was letting her. It was jaw-dropping.

“Answer me,” he demanded, looking around in confusion. “Wait. What the fuck is happening here?”

“How many times have I told you not to take your brother’s name in vain?” Mother Nature shouted, stomping out of the front door of the Cressida House completely naked.

Slapping my hand over my mouth, I swallowed my scream. I had told her to leave immediately. I suppose she took me at my word.

“For the love of everything needing eye bleach,” Satan screamed, putting his free hand over his eyes. “Put some clothes on, Mother.”

“Astrid needed me,” she snapped, whacking the Devil in the back of the head, then ruffling Sarah’s hair affectionately. “I happened to be naked. What can I say? I love my family. Sue me.”

“Would that work?” Satan asked, peeking through his fingers.

“It would not,” she informed him. “Now what seems to be the issue?”

Snapping my fingers, I dressed my naked grandmother in a peach satin robe trimmed in marabou and sequins. Her nudity was a bit distracting.

“Ohhhh,” she squealed, glancing down. “I look ravishing in this.”

“You’re welcome, Gigi,” I said, stepping forward and giving her a hug. “And thank you for coming… naked.”

The arrival of two of the most powerful beings in the Universe had thrown a little kink in Carolinainnia’s plans. However, there was still justice to be served.

“You are very welcome, sweetheart. What can I help you with?” she asked, twirling around with delight.

“Actually, I think we have it covered now,” I told her. “We’re getting ready to have a little trial.”

“I love the sentencing part,” Satan announced grandly. “Did I miss it?”

“No,” Ethan said, looking curiously at the child in Satan’s arms. “You did not. Matthew and David, please bring out chairs for our esteemed jury.”

“I get to be on the jury?” Mother Nature squealed. “How exciting!”

“Jesus Christ,” Satan said. “I’m excited too. Normally, I’m the judge, jury and executioner. It will be outstanding not to have to carry the entire load for once.”

“First you take your brother’s name in vain and now your nephew,” Mother Nature hissed, smacking the Devil once again. “I’ve had about enough out of you. Astrid, darling, who’s on trial this lovely afternoon?”

“The Prince of the North American Dominion,” Catriona said, bowing to Mother Nature and Satan. “He has let Zombies overrun his Dominion, and it’s time for him to be removed.”

“Interesting,” Mother Nature said, glancing over at me with a raised and perfectly plucked brow. Turning her attention back to Catriona, she smiled. However, the smile did not reach her eyes. “And who might you be?”

“I am your humble servant, Catriona, your most high and mighty Goddess of beauty,” she replied, kissing ass like a champion.

I was pretty sure Catriona hadn’t done all of her homework. If she had, she’d have known that Mother Nature—the most high and mighty Goddess of beauty—was also my grandmother. Her investigative skills were sorely lacking. She’d discovered one of my grandmothers and tried to destroy her. She’d missed the one who could take her out with her little pinkie.

Too fucking bad. Not sad at all.

“Actually, Grandmother,” I said to emphasize my relationship to one of the most powerful beings in the universe. Wilhem’s power-hungry consort blanched. Absolutely satisfying. “Catriona is on trial for creating Zombies and trying to overthrow the North American Dominion with deceit and lies.

“You have no proof,” Catriona snapped.

“And that’s where you’re wrong, bitch,” Anastasia said, dragging a terrified Walter out by the scruff of his undead neck. Dropping him to the ground at her feet, she towered over him. Her glare was vicious, and the sniveling piece of crap trembled like he was freezing to death. “Talk. Now.”

I had no clue what Anastasia had done to Walter, but whatever it was, it had worked. The pinch-faced little asshat started singing like a bird.

The reporters’ eardrums had clearly healed. They were taking notes and sketching the action with malicious glee.

“It was that woman who was telling me what to say to the magazines,” Walter said, pointing at Catriona. “She was paying me to tell lies. But I didn’t know she was creating the Zombies. I swear on my undead life.”

“I don’t know that man,” Catriona insisted as her fair-weather army began to back away.

Anastasia smiled. It was terrifying. Satan and Levi were wildly impressed. “Actually, you do,” she contradicted her, passing around documents with photographic proof of checks to Walter that had come from a South American bank account bearing Catriona’s name.

“Stupid and murderous,” I muttered, scanning the incriminating paper trail.

“Is this exhibit A?” Mother Nature asked with a giggle. “I’ve always wanted to say that. I sound so professional.”

“Sure,” Anastasia said, winking at Mother Nature. “Thank you for clarifying.”

“You are most welcome, beautiful child. If anyone has legal questions, I’m the go-to gal. I watch Law and Order.”

Satan rolled his eyes, but smartly kept his trap shut. He’d already been smacked by his mother twice.

Wilhem eyed the documents. His shoulders drooped in mortification. I didn’t feel sorry for him. A monster had to be created. He had given her the permission to create herself. Not only had he let his army get away from him, he’d apparently sold his balls, too.

“Forgery,” Catriona snarled. “Fake news. This proves nothing.”

Levi sighed dramatically and whispered something in Satan’s ear. Uncle Fucker was ecstatic that Levi was speaking to him, but whatever he told the Devil made our uncle furious. Looking down at the precious little girl in his arms, he waved his hand over her head. Glistening black magic floated around Sarah, and she ran her little hands through the silky mist. Whispering in her ear, Satan asked her a question.

She reached up and patted his cheek with adoration, then pointed at Catriona.

Catriona’s eyes grew huge and she backed away in shock. Clearly, she hadn’t recognized the child she’d sentenced to death until now.

“My little friend Sarah says you are the Vampyre who half-turned her and fated her to an existence worse than death,” Satan said in a tone that silenced everyone.

“Impossible,” Catriona said with a brittle and terrified laugh. “That child is not a Zombie.”

“But she was,” I said, moving to stand next to Satan and Sarah. “Up until a few hours ago, this beautiful little girl—who means the world to me, as you know—was a Zombie.”

“You lie,” Catriona snarled, glancing around wildly for someone to save her. She was shit out of luck.

“I don’t lie,” I said in an icy tone. “I have many bad qualities but lying isn’t one of them.”

“The only way to kill a Zombie is by beheading it,” Catriona insisted. “That child could not have been a Zombie. She is alive. Fake news.”

“A Zombie is merely a half-turned Vampyre,” I pointed out, pacing back and forth and making eye contact with the crowd like on Law and Order. “To eliminate a Zombie, you definitely could behead them… or…”

“You’re doing great! The dramatic pause is fabu,” Mother Nature whispered loudly. “Just like a real lawyer.”

I nodded at her and tried not to grin. Grinning wasn’t lawyerly. “Or you complete the turn.”

I heard a few gags and many of the Vamps in attendance paled to the point of looking translucent.

“You bit a Zombie?” one of Wilhem’s generals asked. “You bit a Zombie to save the Vampyre inside?”

“I did,” I replied. “It was fucking gross, but I would do it again in a heartbeat. It is inhumane to half-turn a human. It should be against the law. However, turning a child is against the law.”

“She’s five years old,” Catriona ground out as her former allies began to hiss and gnash their fangs. “It’s the word of a child over the word of the Princess of the South American Dominion.”

“Not my mate,” Wilhem said flatly. “Not my mate and never will be my mate.”

Before Catriona could have a meltdown at the new turn of events, justice was served in a way that I never would have imagined.

“Is it my turn?” Sarah asked Satan, placing her hands on either side of his face and kissing his nose.

Satan smiled. He was besotted with her. “Would you like it to be your turn?”

“Yes!”

“Then I decree that it is indeed your turn,” Satan told her.

Sarah turned and faced Catriona. Catriona hissed and grabbed a sword from one of her retreating men. She wielded the weapon with the ease of a very trained killer.

Sarah laughed. It was not pretty, and it wasn’t innocent. It was fucking terrifying. “An eye for an eye,” she said.

Five seconds ago, Sarah was a giggling child. Now she was an old soul who understood far more than a typical five-year-old should.

“An eye for an eye,” Sarah repeated, floating off of Satan’s lap and into the air.

“It’s a justifiable argument,” Mother Nature chimed in. “Nice twist on the action.”

“Umm… not on my watch,” I said, moving to pull Sarah out of the air and take her to safety. I instantly regretted my decision to bring her here. It had taken a turn with risks I was unwilling to live with.

I was too late.

I wasn’t running the show. Sarah was. And her power almost knocked me off my feet.

“An eye for an eye,” Sarah yelled, zipping through the air with such speed, she disappeared momentarily.

In a blur of golden Heavenly light mixed with dark Demon magic, my five-year-old Nana took revenge on the woman who had killed her. Literally. Catriona’s piercing scream as Sarah’s small hands removed her head echoed in the stunned silence. It was fast. It was efficient. It was bloody. And it was done.

Emotionlessly, Sarah tossed the severed head to the ground. It rolled to Wilhem’s feet. He kicked it. There was a tense moment as we watched Wilhem’s men try to figure out what to do next. To say it was traumatic to watch a beautiful little girl gleefully tear the head off of the Vampyre who’d tried to sentence her to an unholy existence would be an understatement. I was pretty sure I was going to need some therapy after today, and I was positive Sarah would need to chat with a shrink.

The uncertainty in the air was thick. Satan was thrilled with the unrest. Sarah was cuddled back on his lap. He had conjured up a box of popcorn that he shared with a transfixed Mother Nature. Ethan and I stepped forward. The entire Elite Guard drew their weapons. If a coup was in the works, it was going to occur now.

“Spare Wilhem if you can,” Ethan said as his fangs dropped. He pulled a katana from his scabbard. “The rest can burn in Hell if they attack.”

“Stand down,” Wilhem shouted to his men. “If you are with me, show me. If you are not, you are free to leave. Now.”

Half of his men disappeared. The other half went to their knee in reverence of their Prince. It was pathetic.

“Wilhem has a few problems on his hands,” I told Ethan.

“He most certainly does. He made his own bed. Now he has to lie in it.”

Ethan addressed his devastated and hollowed-out brother. “You are not welcome here. Take your army and leave at once.”

“I’m sorry, my brother,” Wilhem whispered. “I didn’t know.”

“Irrelevant,” Ethan ground out. “A true leader bears the sins of his people. Your sins are many. Go now before I am forced to make you leave. Trust me, you do not want that to happen.”

Anastasia took her place on the other side of Ethan and stared at Wilhem emotionlessly.

“Et tu, Brute?” Wilhem asked his sister.

Anastasia’s gaze narrowed dangerously. “I should be asking you that question,” she said coldly. “Your fall from grace is astounding… and tragic.”

“I expect this will be reported to the King,” Wilhem said, holding his head high with effort.

“Indeed, it will,” Ethan told him. “By you. Immediately.”

Wilhem nodded jerkily. “It shall be done posthaste.”

Turning to his remaining men, the broken man strode into the middle of the group. “We shall return home. Now.”

In a flash of magic laced with defeat, Wilhem and his army disappeared. In the breeze from the mass exodus, the ashes of Catriona vanished as well. Good riddance to bad rubbish.

“Well, that was fun,” Mother Nature trilled, standing up from her chair and clapping her hands. “I give all of the lawyers an A plus! The case was riveting. The bad girl was quite evil. The punishment was positively inspired. However, the popcorn could have used a little more butter,” she said, eyeing Satan with a smirk. “And now it’s time for Sarah and me to leave.”

“Whoa,” I said, holding my hands up. “I’m going to raise Sarah. She’s mine. She’s Nana reincarnated.”

“I know, darling! Isn’t that just wonderful,” Gigi sang, ignoring most of what I’d just said.

“Actually,” Satan cut in, still cradling a now sleeping Sarah in his arms. “I was thinking Elle and I should raise her with Luke. The child has Demon in her as well as Vampyre.”

“How?” I asked, not completely taken by surprise. After the semi-Demonic beheading of Catriona, I suspected there was more to Sarah than met the naked eye.

Satan shrugged. “Not a clue, but she does. I think it would be smarter to let me have her. She’ll need to be taught to control her dark magic,”

“I can do that,” I shot back. “She’s my Nana. I saved her. She’s mine.”

“Mine,” Satan snapped.

“Nope,” I growled. “Mine.”

“Enough,” Mother Nature admonished both of us. “Sarah belongs to no one but herself. She is a true child of the Universe. And because of that, I am the one to guard her and keep her safe until the time comes for her to go to a full Vampyre and a full Demon.”

“I’m both,” I said triumphantly, flipping Uncle Fucker the bird. “That means I’ll get her back.”

“Astrid, darling,” Mother Nature said, pointing a very manicured finger my way. “You didn’t hear me. I said a full Demon and a full Vampyre. You know… like Anastasia and Levi. They would be perfect.”

“Umm… nope,” Levi said quickly. “No can do.”

“No way,” Anastasia insisted just as fast. “I do not work well with Demons.”

“And I will never be beholden to a Vampyre,” Levi added.

“Plus, he’s a dick,” Anastasia muttered.

“And she’s a nightmare,” Levi said, not wanting the Vampyre to have the last word.

Anastasia whipped around and shot Levi a nasty glare. “Asshole.”

“Pompous bloodsucker,” he said with a lazy grin that clearly made her want to smack it right off his face if Anastasia’s hiss of fury was anything to go by.

“Excellent,” Mother Nature said. “We have a deal. After Sarah’s training in Nirvana, guardianship shall be awarded to the Asshole and the Pompous Bloodsucker.”

Both Levi and Anastasia’s mouths hung open.

As much as I wanted to raise my Nana myself, I knew she would be loved and taken care of by Gigi, and eventually Levi and Anastasia. The tension between Asshole and the Bloodsucker had been lit by intense desire. Hopefully, it would turn to love. Only time would tell. As crazy as Mother Nature was, she knew what she was doing.

And maybe she was right about me not raising Sarah. I had too many preconceived notions of who she was… I might not give her the room to become who she would grow to be.

“Can I visit her?” I asked as Ethan put his arms around me from behind and rested his chin on my head.

“As much as you would like, sweetheart,” Mother Nature said, gently taking the child from Satan. “Sarah, it’s time to go to Nirvana. Would you like to say goodbye to your friends?”

“Do you have puppies in Nirvana?” Sarah inquired, twisting her small fingers into Mother Nature’s wild red curls.

“So many puppies!” she promised. “And monkeys and birds and baboons!”

“Okay,” Sarah said, snuggling closer to her.

I approached Sarah and kissed her cheek. “I will come and visit often,” I told her.

“We can play with the puppies,” she said with a giggle as she touched the tip of my nose.

I held back my tears with extreme effort. I’d just found her, and I had to let her go all over again. It was different this time, though. Nana wasn’t dead anymore. She was here, but she was different. Doing the right thing sucked sometimes.

“Yep,” I said, breathing in her scent. “We can play with puppies.”

“I like puppies,” Satan insisted, touching Sarah’s dark head with fondness. “I have Hell Hounds. I shall send you one.”

“Thank you, sweetie darling,” Sarah told Satan with a giggle, already picking up Mother Nature lingo.

“She likes me,” Satan announced, blushing a bit at the squishy endearment.

“And we’re off,” Mother Nature said, wiggling her nose.

A sweet-scented peach explosion of magic engulfed Gigi and Sarah. Sarah waved and laughed until they disappeared.

“Well then,” Satan said, covertly wiping away something that had gotten lodged in his eye. “I shall take my leave as well. It was an invigorating afternoon. I’m still displeased about the sphincters, but we can call it a wash since I was greatly entertained today.”

Ethan raised a brow and shook his head. “The fate of the undead is entertaining?”

“Quite,” Satan replied with a grin. “Let me know when those boxes from Staples arrive. I’m looking forward to stealing them. And Leviathan,” he said, pinning the Demon with a hard stare. “As you have a new mission in life, your presence in Hell is not welcome at the moment.”

“You’re banning me from my home?” Levi demanded.

“No, I’m forcing you to have a life, boy. Enjoy it,” Satan said and then vanished in a silky black mist.

“Excuse me,” Levi said flatly as he stomped back into the Cressida House, smoldering like a wildfire.

“Please pardon me, as well,” Anastasia said, still looking shell-shocked by Mother Nature’s decrees. “I’ll be in my suite if I’m needed.”

“They like each other,” I told Ethan with a grin.

“There’s a very fine line between love and hate,” he said, watching his sister walk away and almost bash into a tree in her haste. “They’re walking on the edge of it at the moment.”

“It’s gonna be fun to watch both of them fall.”

Ethan grinned. “It will be a damned good time.”

The Elite Guard slowly cleared out, taking Walter the snitch back to the dungeon. But the reporters stayed behind.

“May I?” I asked Ethan, eyeing them as they eyed us back cautiously.

“Be my guest,” he replied.

I approached the five and they cowered, expecting retaliation for trashing me for years. They were mistaken. I no longer cared what they had to say about me. Sticks and stones might break my bones, but their words would never hurt me. Though, they might piss me off, but that came with the territory.

“I’m hiring. Are any of you available?” I queried.

“For what?” a worried-looking man asked.

“For a legit undead newspaper. One that doesn’t spread fake news or vicious gossip. I will not have any editorial oversight. That will be handled by a neutral Vampyre,” I said as their ears perked up. “My input would be a conflict of interest. I don’t give a damn if you like me or hate me. Opinions are like assholes. Everyone has them and most of them stink. What I’m looking for is a paper that informs our people and keeps us connected in a positive way, since we’re a rather violent species. You feel me?”

The worried man stood and extended his hand. “I would like a job, Your Royal Highness.”

“As would I,” came an identical chorus of assent from the rest.

“Fine,” I said with a curt nod. “You are all hired. Oh, and which one of you said my dress was boring?”

One of the two women reporters blanched and raised her hand. “It was me,” she whispered, terrified. “I was paid to write it by Walter. I honestly thought the Prada sheath was gorgeous. My apologies.”

“No more fake fucking news,” I called over my shoulder as I took Ethan’s hand and began the walk back into our home. “And don’t let people buy you. It’s gauche.”

“You might need a shower,” Ethan said with a chuckle as he pulled my dried-guts-covered, stinky body toward his.

“Shit,” I said with a laugh. “You think they’ll write about that?”

“It’s an undeniable fact,” he pointed out. “Not fake news at all.”

“Let them write it. I earned my stench and crusty look.”

Ethan threw his head back and laughed. “I’d still do you.”

“That is crazy hot,” I said, jumping on his back and tackling him to the ground with a squeal of laughter. “I love you so much it’s INSANE!”

As we rolled around in the grass making out, we ran into some large combat boots. Peering up at the owner, I grinned from ear to ear. He was beautiful beyond comprehension. His smile melted my heart, and his love was what I lived for. Ethan felt exactly the same way.

“Samuel,” I said, touching my son’s leg as I stared at him.

“You two need to get a room,” he said with a chuckle and an eye roll, pulling both of us to our feet.

“You should be happy that your parents have a healthy sex life,” I said, making him cringe.

“It’s delightful,” he said dryly. “However, it would be lovely not to witness it. You feel me?”

“You stole my line,” I accused as I linked arms with my two favorite men in the Universe.

“You’re my mom,” he said. “I’m allowed to.”

“Boy has a point,” Ethan said. “What’s ours is his.”

“Mom?”

“Yep?”

“You smell a little gamey,” he told me with a wince. “Wanna share the reason you’re wearing a crown while covered in blood and smelling like a sewer?”

“I smell like a sewer?” I shouted, shocked. I knew my aroma wasn’t exactly pleasant, but a fucking sewer?

“You do,” Ethan confirmed, sheepishly. “I’m getting used to it.”

“Don’t,” I said. “It will disappear shortly. Samuel, meet us in our suite in two hours. There are some people I want you to meet.”

“Will do,” Samuel said, poofing away with a grin.

I smacked Ethan’s arm. “You should have told me I smelled like a freaking sewer.”

“How about this?” he suggested with a sexy, naughty grin on his face. “To make it up to you, I’ll wash every inch of your gorgeous body and when you’re squeaky clean, I will give you a tongue bath that you will remember for eternity.”

“That’s a very bold claim,” I pointed out as my girly parts danced in anticipation.

“I’m a man of my word,” he said smugly.

“Race you to the shower,” I yelled as I took off like a bat out of Hell.

Ethan was indeed a man of his word… and then some. Eternity was a very long time, but I would remember the erotic bath till the sun stopped shining in the sky.

Epilogue

PRINCE ETHAN AND PRINCESS ASTRID DEFEAT SOUTH AMERICAN COUP ATTEMPT

The North America Dominion was under a violent and bloody siege six days ago at the royal residence of Prince Ethan and Princess Astrid, in Kentucky. The coup was orchestrated and led by the consort of Prince Wilhem of the South American Dominion. The evil bitch went by the name Catriona and was also implicated in tampering with the free press, who were deviously duped into false reporting. The Prince and Princess have graciously decided not to sue or decapitate the press. Our Royal Family feels that the press should be free to report the news… not the fake news. Opinions are fine as long as they are framed as opinion and not fact.

Princess Astrid is quoted as saying, “Opinions are like assholes. Everyone has them and most of them stink.”

After a fair trial with just cause successfully argued and proven, the enemy of the government was eventually beheaded.

It was discovered during an intense cross examination by the savvy Princess Astrid, wearing fetching combat attire covered in dried blood and Zombie guts, that the consort had been solely responsible for the creation of the Zombies that had wrought havoc on the West Coast. A child was also half-turned—a crime alone punishable by death.

In a twist that no one expected, the age-old biblical law of an eye for an eye was brought to the table during the most dramatic part of the trial. The jury, surprisingly consisting of Mother Nature and Satan, were in favor of the new legal challenge. Mother Nature’s expertise in legal procedure was noted several times during the trial. Her courtroom background comes from the Theatrical Institution of Law and Order, according to a source.

The child victim of the consort, whose name has been redacted due to her age, successfully decapitated the heinous guilty bitch. It was shockingly brilliant. Sadly, it wasn’t all that bloody, but when Prince Wilhem drop-kicked the severed head, fun was had by all.

We will keep you updated on the unfolding story.

Tossing the paper off the side of the bed, I groaned. “Well, they got some of it correct, but it still sounds like a rag magazine.” I laughed and shook my head. “Deviously duped into false reporting, my ass. Bribed would be more accurate.”

“Your quote was quite arresting,” Ethan said with a wide grin.

“And true,” I said, grabbing a pillow and smacking him with it.

His shout of laughter warmed my soul. The pillow fight was hilarious and violent… and ended in incredible sex. Most everything we did ended in incredible sex, which was freaking fantastic.

The newly turned Vampyres had joined the Cressida House. Everyone was doing fine. Management had even acquired a coffin for Mustache Man when he’d asked for one. Ethan had been a bit thrown by the request, but he rolled with it. Management was good like that.

The surprise to all was Bat Man. The sweet man turned out to be an expert in martial arts. He even took down Jax a few days ago, which was almost impossible. Bat Man was so humble about his win and so worried about Jax’s feelings, everyone fell in love with him. The adorable newly turned Vampyre was now being trained to be an Elite Guard—a huge and rare honor.

Vinnie was going to be saving many puppies with his massive new income. The flavored blood was a hit. People were clamoring for it, and Vinnie was beside himself with joy. He’d run a full-page ad in the first edition of the new newspaper—The Bloodsucker NOT FAKE News.

The name of the paper was a bit literal for my taste, but the reporting staff loved it. Most of them had been bottom-feeders for so long, they wanted their newfound legitimacy shouted out to the undead world.

Samuel was fascinated by his aunt and uncle, and they were taken with him as well. They’d spent many hours together over the past several days and a fast friendship had formed. He’d also introduced the Baby Demons to my brother and Ethan’s sister. Of course, Levi had already met them, but Anastasia was obsessed. The feeling was very mutual, and the little turds followed her everywhere now.

As to Levi and Anastasia… I gave it a month before they banged. Ethan was sure they already had since they could barely look at each other. I was dying to ask but forced myself to keep my mouth shut—very difficult for me. They were both staying on as guests for a few more months, and I couldn’t have been happier.

Martha and Jane had gone back to Hell with Lizard to help nanny baby Luke. However, Satan was a very involved daddy now. Elle had sent a few pictures of Uncle Fucker dressed as a Teletubby with Luke in his arms, screaming with laughter. I tucked the photos away for future blackmail purposes.

My biggest and newest source of happiness was Sarah. She was thriving with Mother Nature as her mentor, and Vinnie had sent her two puppies that he’d saved, along with several cases of chocolate-flavored blood. She was delighted with both gifts. The puppies were named Satan and, of course, Astrid—she was five, after all.

I visited her often and our bond was tight. Not only was Sarah the reincarnated version of my Nana. She was also the second incarnation of the mother of my distant Vampyre cousins, Heathcliff and Cathy. She had also been the beloved wife of Heathcliff and Cathy’s father, Sir James. When they’d heard the news of what had happened to her, they were furious. Carefully and casually, they began to visit Sarah as well.

Only time would tell if the young child would recall and embrace her past lives. But the happiness of having her back in any capacity was going to have to be enough.

Unsurprisingly, Wilhem had not fared well with the King. His Dominion had been handed over to Princess Leila—the Princess of the African Dominion. Wilhem had a long way to go to prove himself before he would be granted rule over his territory again.

I couldn’t rachet up much sympathy, but I kept it to myself. Ethan loved his brother even with all his faults. In time, maybe Wilhem would grow up. That was entirely up to him.

“Wake up, baby,” Ethan whispered. “You fell asleep after some rather aerobic banging.”

Sitting up, I stretched and grinned. “Life is so good.”

“Life is great,” he said, kissing the top of my head then tying his tie.

“Where are you going?” I asked, sleepily.

He chuckled and slipped into his Armani jacket. The man looked good enough to eat. “Seems my sister and your brother are going at it in the Grand Ballroom. I need to put a stop to the commotion. It’s causing a bottleneck in the foyer.”

“A physical altercation?” I asked, shocked as I jumped out of bed and quickly yanked on my favorite Alice and Olivia dress. “That doesn’t sound like Levi at all… or Anastasia.”

“You misunderstood. While it is indeed physical, I wouldn’t exactly call it an altercation,” he said with an arched brow.

“Shut the front door,” I shouted with a laugh. “They’re banging in the ballroom?”

“Apparently,” he said. “Would you enjoy busting them with me?”

“I would love it,” I said, stepping into some fabu Parada heels.

“Shall we go and mortify our randy siblings?” Ethan asked with a wicked smirk.

“Yes, we shall,” I replied.

The next chapter of life had just started off with a bang. Literally. I had a feeling the story was going to be a whole hell of a lot of fun.

“I repeat,” I said as we ran down the Grand Staircase side by side. “Life is sooooooo good!”

“Yep,” Ethan said. “And it’s about to get a little more interesting… or embarrassing.”

“I love you,” I said as we snuck quietly to the doors of the Grand Ballroom with about thirty grinning Vampyres on our heels.

“I love you more,” Ethan whispered. “You ready?”

“Yes, but if I see my brother’s Johnson, I’m going to scream.”

“Are you willing to take the risk of needing eye bleach?”

I nodded slowly and grinned. “I am.”

“One. Two. Three.”

I was definitely going to need eye bleach. And I was pretty sure it was going to take a few months for Anastasia or Levi to be able to look anyone at the Cressida House in the eye, but it was worth it. Even getting electrocuted by my Demon brother was worth it.

Again, life was so good.

I was dead.

I had love and a family that kept growing in magical—and occasionally sexually explicit—ways.

And on most days, when I wasn’t turning Zombies into Vampyres, I was wildly fashionable.

Fashionably dead, that is, and loving it.

The End… for now.

Robyn’s Book List

(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

Fashionably Fanged

Fashionably Flawed

A Fashionably Dead Diary

Fashionably Forever After

Fashionably Fabulous

A Fashionable Fiasco

Fashionably Fooled

Fashionably Dead and Loving It

GOOD TO THE LAST DEATH SERIES

It’s a Wonderful Midlife Crisis

Whose Midlife Crisis Is It Anyway?

A Most Excellent Midlife Crisis

My Midlife Crisis, My Rules

SHIFT HAPPENS SERIES

Ready to Were

Some Were in Time

No Were To Run

Were Me Out

Were We Belong

MAGIC AND MAYHEM SERIES

Switching Hour

Witch Glitch

A Witch in Time

Magically Delicious

A Tale of Two Witches

Three’s A Charm

Switching Witches

You’re Broom or Mine?

The Bad Boys of Assjacket

SEA SHENANIGANS SERIES

Tallulah’s Temptation

Ariel’s Antics

Misty’s Mayhem

Petunia’s Pandemonium

Jingle Me Balls

A WYLDE PARANORMAL SERIES

Beauty Loves the Beast

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 helped wicked Evangeline write in How Hard Can It Be?

Warning: Pirate Dave Contains Romance Satire, Spoofing, and Pirates with Two Pork Swords.

Note From The Author

If you enjoyed reading Fashionably Dead and Loving It, please consider leaving a positive review or rating on the site where you purchased it. Reader reviews help my books continue to be valued by resellers and help new readers make decisions about reading them.

You are the reason I write these stories and I sincerely appreciate each of you!

Many thanks for your support,

~ Robyn Peterman

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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 (the drink not the drug LOL) with extra ice in a Yeti 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 she can work in sweatpants works really well for her.

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