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 cov
ered 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 missh
apen, 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?”
Fashionably Dead and Loving It: Hot Damned Book 14 Page 8