Fashionably Dead (Hot Damned Series, Book 1)

by Robyn Peterman

  He pulled a small dagger from his boot and sliced his palm. I took his dagger and did the same. We joined hands and we mixed our blood. It was right.

  Afterwards I wrapped my arms around him and laid my head on his chest. “How’s Cathy going to feel about this?” I asked.

  I felt his body shudder at the thought. “She’ll get used to it. Eventually.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Fight training at the Cressida House was ugly and painful. The training facilities were top notch, including a huge gym with every machine known to man. There was a boxing ring and a three mile indoor circular running track.

  The training center also encompassed a very large empty area covered in mats for sparring. There was an observation deck on the north wall about forty feet up. It was accessible from an outside set of stairs. One building contained a shooting range and a cavernous room filled with weapons—swords, daggers, katanas, throwing stars, guns and then some.

  The weapons building also housed an area used for knife throwing. I spent many hours there after I nailed Cathy in the head. Thank you Jesus, I was getting more proficient with daggers and swords. I really didn’t want to kill one of my comrades by accident.

  After the car kissing debacle, Heathcliff decided it was okay to spar with me. That would have been fine, but the son of a bitch punched as hard as The Kev. If I didn’t have healing powers, I’d be dead on the floor. After the third punch to my head, which may have caused brain damage, I understood why he was in charge of the Elite Guard.

  “Are you okay?” Venus whispered as she pulled me to my feet.

  “Fucking awesome,” I muttered, getting up for another round. I was going to wipe the floor with Heathcliff’s ass soon. I just needed to live through his attempt at wiping the floor with mine.

  Venus, much to my great delight and relief, was also chosen to be a new Guard. She was present along with the other new recruits. None of them really spoke to me. Actually, most of the Vamps in general stayed away from me. I couldn’t tell if they were scared of me or just showing respect to the Chosen One. Whatever it was, it made me feel bad.

  The majority of the existing Guard, including Ethan, was out on patrol, but several were here to put us through our paces. Cathy, looking thrilled to see me, was here along with Samuel, Luke and David. I loved that all the senior male Guards had Biblical names. I wondered if that was a requirement.

  The veterans stretched us. While that may sound lovely, it wasn’t. It was freakin’ excruciating. Having a two hundred and thirty pound Vampyre push your leg up over your head with all his weight behind it sucked. Bad.

  “Son of a bitch, Samuel,” I grunted. “That kills.”

  “Not as much as the razor stubble on your leg is killin’ me,” he laughed and pushed harder.

  “You’re a shithat,” I shouted through the pain. I was sure Samuel was going to pull one of my legs out of the socket and right off my body.

  “What the fuck is a shithat?” he asked, truly puzzled.

  “I have no clue,” I moaned as he yanked my body into a pretzel.

  Not everyone was intimidated by me, and Samuel certainly wasn’t. I think that’s why I liked him so much. He couldn’t have cared less if I were Queen of the World or just some random Vamp off the street.

  He was a big, good-looking guy with mocha skin, spiky black hair and long, lean muscles. His nose was a little crooked and he had a wonderful jagged scar that ran along his left cheekbone. It made him look dangerous. Hell, he was dangerous. They all were. He had intelligent dark brown eyes, the speed of a cheetah, a beautiful smile and an infectious laugh. Everyone loved Samuel, especially the ladies, from what I understood. He took great pleasure in repeatedly explaining to me that the Chosen One should be able to kick his ass. Clearly that hadn’t happened yet.

  “You are such a pussy,” Samuel yelled gleefully as he put me in a chokehold.

  “You are a son of a bitch, Asshat,” I tried to yell back, but it came out all muffled due to my head being trapped in his armpit.

  “God,” he shouted, “you are the wimpiest recruit I’ve had in over ninety years.”

  He forcefully threw me to the mat. As he was about to body slam me, I quickly rolled to my left, hopped up and gave him a round house kick to the head. He staggered back, grinning like an idiot.

  I realized I was grinning like an idiot too. Who knew violence could be so much fun? “I’ve had about enough of your shit, you dress-wearin’, backward-ass momma’s boy,” I panted, egging him on.

  “Ooooo, sticks and stones... ” he yelled and flipped me off, still grinning from ear to ear.

  He ran at me with speed that almost made him disappear... almost. I dropped down to my right. I threw my leg out and undercut him, sending him flying. He landed with a thud on his back. With swift aggression I didn’t know I possessed I pinned him and elbow slammed him in the face. The crunch was horrific and blood spurted everywhere. Samuel moaned and rolled around on the floor as he tried to adjust his nose and realign his cheekbones and eye sockets.

  “Oh my God,” I screamed and dropped to the ground to help him. “I am so sorry.”

  He was laughing. He grabbed me in a bear hug and bled all over me. “I am so proud of you,” he gurgled through the blood. “You are finally close to kicking my ass.”

  “I’d say that was more than close.” I was so relieved that he wasn’t mad or dead.

  “Astrid, you have to stop holding back,” he said. It was difficult to take him seriously with all the blood gushing from his face.

  “Samuel, you’re my friend. I don’t have too many of those and I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “You can’t, Astrid,” he smiled, wiping his blood off of my face. “Short of you setting me on fire, removing my head or putting a silver stake through my heart, you can’t permanently hurt me. We’re Vampyres. We heal.” He ruffled my hair and pulled me to my feet. I was amazed at how quickly his face was mending back together.

  “How old are you, Samuel?” I asked. He had to be old to heal that fast.

  “One thousand and three.”

  “Holy shit, you’re older than dirt!”

  “That’s right, little girl, and I have been waiting for the Chosen One for a long time. I assumed when he or she came along, I’d finally find a good fighting partner. But noooo,” he laughed. “Who knew she’d be such a fucking weak little peckerhead?”

  “That’s it,” I yelled, putting Samuel into a headlock and swinging him around like a doll. “I’ve had enough of your shit, you redneck jackass.” I threw him across the room with such force I knew I broke both of his legs and possibly his back.

  When and how did I become so violent... and when did I start to enjoy it?

  “Now that’s what I’m talking about,” he grinned through his excruciating pain and gave me a thumbs-up. “If I were the real bad guy, you would have incapacitated me enough to stake me or decapitate me. I am so proud of you!”

  I smiled at my crazy, very injured friend. I was sure it would take him at least a day to recover from what I had just done. I ran over and propped him gently against the wall. He squeezed my hand with pride and I kissed him on the forehead. I was torn between feeling really bad and really good. I turned to find the rest of the Vampyres in the room gaping at me in shock. Fucktard... they all wanted a piece of me now. I looked around and made eye contact with each one of them. It was do or die time...

  “Who’s next?” I asked.

  Cathy stepped forward. “I am.”

  I looked down at the floor and took a moment to regroup. If I had thought it through, I wouldn’t have asked that question. I would have challenged Luke or David or even Heathcliff, but I didn’t think and now I was stuck. Samuel gave me a gentle push toward the mat. I looked to Heathcliff and he nodded.

  Cathy intercepted the look and grunted in disgust. “Come on, you stupid holier-than-thou bitch. Come and try to get a piece of me.” She was crazy. “Your silly little outfit won’t distract me, d
ear,” she said, looking pointedly at her brother.

  There was power in stillness, so I walked to the center of the mat and waited. I stood quietly and claimed my space. Cathy circled me, dissipating her energy because of her anger and pride. I kept my eyes on her and my knees slightly bent, ready to spring.

  The fighting techniques that we had to master were a mixture of martial arts and pure brute strength. One of the favorites included Dim Mak, also known as the Death Touch. This technique would kill a mortal instantly, but didn’t kill Vampyres. It could knock them out or delay their reaction, which provided valuable staking or decapitating time. Iaido involved swords, specifically the katana. Ninjutsu involved throwing knives and stars. That was the one I had a little trouble with—just ask Cathy. And then there was my favorite, Capoeira, which was very dance-like yet still very aggressive.

  Katanas, throwing stars and daggers seemed to be the weapons of choice, but we had to be excellent marksmen too. Guns were not considered honorable, but Vampyres were very practical. Unfortunately, in today’s world they were necessary. Several of the older Guards, my buddy Samuel included, were outstanding archers. However, I had tricks up my sleeves that they weren’t aware of. That was why I fought so hard not to lose control. I was fairly sure I could kill every Vampyre in this room with Magic, and I really wished that was not the case. I didn’t want the responsibility that came with my power.

  Thankfully, The Kev had taught me how to separate Kill Magic from Damage Magic. It wasn’t easy. I had accidentally killed a robin in my backyard when I was practicing and I cried for three hours. Let me assure you, it wasn’t a pleasant death for the bird. I was positive whoever decided that I was the Chosen One had made a terrible mistake. If I had trouble killing a bird... I refused to finish the rest of the thought.

  The Kev assured me that a killing machine that was capable of compassion, like me, would be one of the ultimate warriors of all time. I didn’t understand his logic, but I prayed he was right. I had a bad feeling about whatever trouble was headed my way. I had no idea if I would be up to the challenge.

  Cathy was getting impatient and I let her. Too much aggression led to carelessness and mistakes. She should know better. “I know why you’re holding back,” she jeered.

  I just stared.

  “You’re afraid of me,” she smiled. It wasn’t pretty. “You know if you give it your all and I win... which I will... you’re nothing. You’re less than nothing, and Ethan will soon know it.”

  Several of the Vamps in the room laughed uncomfortably.

  I stayed silent.

  “Are you going to fight me this time, Angel?” All the Elite Guard gasped. Ethan was the only one allowed to call me Angel. I couldn’t have given a shit, but the fact that she said it was serious business. No one messed around with the Prince’s edicts. She clearly had a death wish.

  I didn’t want to hurt her. I knew she would heal, but for some reason hurting her was abhorrent to me. She clearly didn’t feel the same way. Why on earth I felt protective of her was beyond me. It wasn’t about Ethan anymore, and it certainly wasn’t because she was sweet or defenseless. Maybe it was because she smelled so similar to Heathcliff. I suppose scent ran in the family. I couldn’t figure out my reticence.

  “Jealousy is ugly,” I told her calmly. My plan was to set her up, piss her off, let her pound on me and be done with it. I would not fight back.

  “You bitch,” she screamed, attacking and knocking me to the ground. One of her hands was around my throat and the other was slapping me viciously across the face. “Fight me,” she growled. “Damn you... fight me,” she begged.

  She was crazed and desperate. I could feel blood dripping from my lip and my eye was swelling shut. God, that hurt. I looked into her eyes. She needed to fight me more than I needed to not hurt her. Fine. She wanted a piece of me? A piece of me she would get.

  I turned over and flipped her off of me. I flicked my fingers and sent her flying across the room at about fifty miles an hour. She hit a huge stack of chairs. It sounded like a bomb going off, echoing ominously throughout the room. I was sure that couldn’t have felt good, but she was right back up and coming at me like a runaway freight train. She was so angry, it made her sloppy. I sidestepped her and gut punched her at the same time. It was a little difficult to see with one eye swollen shut and the other on the way there, but I hit my target. Hard.

  She roared in frustration and pulled two very sharp, curved daggers from her belt. I was assuming they were steel and not silver. We weren’t allowed to use silver during practice, but who the hell knew with Cathy? Silver was extremely painful for us, and of course deadly if run through the heart. I could stick steel or wood or copper straight through my heart over and over and not die, but silver... not so much. I quickly protected myself. I touched my hands to my chest and a glittery breeze shot out all around me, shielding me from all weapons including bullets. I heard Heathcliff gasp. I caught his eye for a moment and he stared at me in awe.

  Cathy screamed and threw down her weapons. “What, you can’t fight the normal way, you whore?”

  She did not just call me a whore. I was a lot of things, but a whore was not one of them.

  She was on my last nerve. I needed to take her ass down before my other eye swelled shut. I released the protection wall around me with a flick of my fingers. I did an aerial cartwheel right into her and scissor-kicked her in the head, taking her down to the floor before she even knew I moved.

  I pinned her face down on the mat. I held her arms twisted behind her back and I dug my knees viciously into her hamstrings. As she screamed in agony I leaned down and head-butted her. Shit, that hurt. Whatever. It made her shut up.

  I leaned over and whispered to her, “I am not a whore. Maybe a bitch, but definitely not a whore. I would suggest you remember that in the future, Cathy.”

  She tried to spit at me, but missed. “You’ll kill him.” She was crying.

  “What are you talking about?” I hissed. She was starting to piss me off.

  “If you mate with him, you’ll kill him.”

  “Yeah, I heard that part,” I barked. “What in the hell are you talking about?”

  “You’re the Chosen One,” she grunted. “Vampyres and Demons and God knows what else will try to kill you for the rest of eternity.”

  “So what?” I yelled, twisting her arms tighter and pulling her shoulder out of the socket.

  Whoops.

  “If you mate with Ethan and you die, he does too, you stupid, selfish bitch,” she gasped in hellish pain.

  That stopped me. I let go of her and kicked her torn and battered body away from me. Why hadn’t anybody told me that? That couldn’t be right.

  I slowly turned to Heathcliff. “Is that true?” I asked so calmly that I scared the hell out of everyone. I couldn’t see him clearly through the swelling and the blood. I had split my scalp open when I head-butted Cathy and blood was running down my swollen face. This was definitely not my best look.

  “Is it?” I yelled.

  “Yes,” Heathcliff said, “it is.”

  “Why in the hell do you people have so many goddamn stupid rules?”

  Heathcliff looked down at the floor along with the rest of the Vamps in the room.

  Well, my little Demons had been correct... this had turned out to be a clusterfuck of a day.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  I vaguely recalled Heathcliff carrying me to Venus’ room. I knew I had collapsed, what with the blood loss and all my new stress. Venus helped me undress and bathed me. I was too tired and too weak, plus one of my eyes was still swollen shut.

  Venus’ room was cozy and inviting. She favored shabby chic—big overstuffed furniture in soft cottons and fuzzy chenilles mixed with thick crushed velvets. The patterns were faded cabbage roses in peaches and pale pinks mixed up with equally faded tulips and daisies in lavenders and periwinkles. Her walls were a pale celery green covered in crazy cool folk art and Aboriginal Dream art. None of
it went together individually, but together it was perfect. Just like Venus.

  The gashes on my head and lip had closed and were healing, but I was covered in dried blood and bruises. Venus washed my hair in lemon-scented shampoo and filled the tub with hot water and bubbles. It smelled like heaven. She was so gentle. I felt like a baby, a very happy and well-loved baby.

  “Astrid,” Venus asked, “do you want to stay in the tub?” She had drained out the dirty, bloody water and was refilling it with hot, lemony-smelling suds.

  “I’ll stay in here forever,” I told her, sinking lower in the bubbles. She giggled and put an ice pack over my eyes. The swelling was going down. I could tell because I could see out of them now.

  “Is Cathy okay?” I asked.

  “Physically she’ll be fine. Mentally, it’s anybody’s guess,” Venus snorted in disgust.

  “Is this all about Ethan?” I wondered aloud, taking the ice pack off and sinking even lower in the tub.

  “It can’t be,” Venus shrugged and handed me a big bottle of blood. “Compliments of Gemma,” she smiled. “Chips and extra hot salsa!”

  “Yesss.” I gulped it like a starving person, dribbling some down my chin in my haste. I loved my friends.

  “Anyhoo, Miss Manners... ” Venus chided, wiping the blood from my face with a washcloth as I sighed happily. “From what I recently heard, Cathy and Ethan have not been... well, you know... intimate in about twenty years. Knowing they were not meant to be mates, he ended it and encouraged Cathy to look for her true mate.”

  “And?” I asked.

  “Clearly she hasn’t done that yet,” Venus laughed and ran a brush through my hair.

  “Heathcliff thinks they still sleep together,” I told her.

  “Heathcliff wants you, Astrid,” she shot back.

  “Did,” I said firmly. “Not anymore.” Venus raised her eyebrows and finished cleaning my poor battered face. “So if it’s not about Ethan, why does Cathy hate me so much?”