Fashionably Dead in Diapers

by Robyn Peterman

  "No, little man." Ethan chuckled and pulled his child close. "However, it might be nice if you gave your Uncle Satan blue skin tomorrow. He would love that."

  The gasps in the room were hilarious. My Vampyre was evil to the core…I bit my lip to keep from screaming or laughing. Satan would look awesome as a Smurf. I needed to make sure my phone was charged so I could get some good blackmail shots. Tomorrow was going to be a shit show of epic proportions. There was no telling how everyone would react to my new rules concerning my child. There was sure to be yelling and violence. Just as long as no one died it would be a success. Fuckityfuckfuck, I was not looking forward to tomorrow. Blue and purple relatives, screaming and fighting, swearing and bloodshed…

  Well, maybe I was looking a little forward to it.

  Chapter 5

  Parenting books are useless if you're not human. If your child is half Vampyre/ half Demon we would suggest not using parenting books at all—they can backfire like a motherfucker. We wish you luck and…well, luck.

  "We have an hour," Ethan said as he slid into his Hugo Boss blazer.

  He was such a beautiful man. I had to press my hands to my sides so I didn't run them over his chest or grab his asstastic butt. I always had the distinct urge to jump him and ride him blind. His sexy half smirk told me he knew exactly what I was thinking. I rolled my eyes and continued to dress. Too bad the Who's Who of the immortal world would be descending on us soon, leaving no time for nookie.

  "We could get in the car, be at the airport, and on a plane in that time. What do you say?" he inquired with a hopeful look in his eyes.

  "Where would we go?" I asked as I slipped on a pair of Prada stilettos that went perfectly with the classy black sheath I'd chosen and twisted my wild hair into a French braid.

  "I don't know…how about Russia? It's big and it would take them at least a month to find us if we play it smart," he said casually.

  "Russia is cold and Russian. I don't want to go there. How about Mars?"

  "No culture on Mars, not to mention the Portals to other galaxies are guarded by Trolls."

  "How is it that I didn't know about fucking Trolls and they've come up about five times in the last twenty-four hours?" I snapped. The stress of the upcoming family gathering was making me itchy. It wouldn't take much for me to unravel. "Wait. Could we actually go to Mars?"

  "Nope, even Vampyres can't survive on Mars."

  "Do aliens exist?" I asked as I pulled out a cute pair of pants and a shirt for Sammy. Thankfully, he was napping and hadn't had time to do much damage yet.

  Ethan rolled his eyes and snorted. "Aliens do not exist."

  "I don't know why that's funny. I'd prefer aliens to Gnomes, Trolls and Zombies."

  "Good point," he agreed. "I have to admit, I'm quite awed by The Kev. No one, not even a two-thousand-year-old Fairy should have lived through getting rid of that many Trolls and Gnomes. Putting them in Purgatory was sheer brilliance."

  "I think Gemma helped," I said as I found some tiny green Converse tennis shoes for my boy.

  "No surprise there. She'll be as strong as he is very soon. You do realize that they'll have to go to Xanthia," he said as he picked up a sleeping Sammy and laid the confused child on the changing table.

  "They want her dead," I told him as I as I unzipped my baby from his sleeper. "I don't want her to go back there."

  "It's not our choice. She's their Queen and they've waited centuries for her."

  "Then they can wait longer…until The Kev says it's safe," I insisted. "I won't let her go if a bunch of fucking off their rocker Fairy freaks want to kill her. Period."

  "Fucking Fairy freaks," Sammy crowed and clapped his hands. "Me eat them!"

  I blanched as much as a pale Vampyre could and pulled a roll of duct tape out of the diaper bag. Slowly I ripped off a four-inch piece and slapped it over my foul mouth, much to my mate and son's delight.

  "Silly, silly Mommy," Sammy squealed. "You so funny."

  "Mommy is funny and we don't eat Fairies. Too chewy," Ethan said as he scooped up Sammy and put him on his shoulder. "Mommy is trying very hard to be a good girl, so we will support her new fashion statement and love her anyway. You got it?"

  "Me got it. Do Daddy want orange skin?"

  My muffled laughter under the tape earned me a glare from a highly unamused Vampyre. "No. No orange skin for Daddy. Not today, not ever."

  ***

  "Russia is sounding kind of good now," I whispered frantically to Ethan as the shrieks of my extended family filled the ballroom. Massive crystal chandeliers trembled and walls buckled. This was bad. I had a feeling Pompeii would be considered mild compared to what was going down today.

  Satan was blue and Grandpa was orange. The Angel of Death, Hayden, and his mate Dixie were a lovely teal. Elijah, the Angel of Light and the woman he wanted to be his mate, Lucy, were lime green. Pam and Ethan's father, the King, were a hot pink, but The Kev and Gemma were the worst—they sported neon purple skin. Strangely the Baby Demons were red like they always were and pouted loudly at the unfairness. They were lobbying for yellow. However, Mother Nature won the prize…she was full on rainbow and was not pleased.

  "Everyone calm down," I shouted to deaf ears.

  I watched in horror as priceless paintings fell off the walls and crashed to the ground. Satan's displeasure had started a fire in the corner of the room and trees began exploding through the marble floor thanks to Mother Nature. A full on zoo of animals wandered aimlessly through the melee. I wasn’t sure if that was Mother Nature's doing or my son's. Whatever. It had to stop.

  Shoving Sammy into Ethan's arms, I shut my eyes and concentrated. Black glitter mist covered my arms and my chest and magic engulfed me. My hair pulled loose from its braid and swirled wildly around my head. I stamped my foot twice, raised my arms above my head and screamed. Water poured from the ceiling and doused the fire as sparkling silver gilded cages dropped around the animals—thankfully right before the lions offed the monkeys.

  A violent wind blew and trapped my family and friends in a funnel, lifting them all off the ground and tossing them haphazardly around the room. It came up so fast no one had time to counteract it with magic. I grinned as I watched Mother Nature swat at her son, Satan. I considered simply grabbing Ethan and Samuel and leaving, but the payback for this would be a bitch and then some. Flicking my fingers, I let the wind die down and placed all of my family gently on the couches and chairs. However, everyone was mute—mute as in I temporarily stole their voice boxes. I needed to talk and that was the only way to get a word in with this bunch.

  "Alrighty then, welcome to my house that you all just royally fucked up. Sammy, turn everyone's skin back. Now," I said as they stared at my child in shock.

  "Do me have to?" he pouted. "They look so pretty."

  "Yes, you have to."

  Grudgingly, he did. He scrunched his little face and icy pale blue crystals showered the room, restoring everyone's skin to its original color. The loud sighs of relief from the most powerful immortals in the world made me giggle.

  "Ooookay, let's get down to business," I said cheerfully to the room full of unhappy people who watched me through narrowed eyes. Motherhumper, this was such a stupid idea. I should have just sent out a mass email or text. Shitfirebuttballs. "I have a few questions and then I'm going to lay out a few new laws. Failure to comply with said laws will result in maiming, blood loss and Sammy privileges being revoked. Does anyone have any questions?" I asked, only to be greeted by stony silence. Well, that was weird. No one had anything to say? Mother Nature always had something to say…not to mention Pam.

  "You took their voices," Ethan reminded me.

  "Shit, that's right." I waved my hand and returned their voice boxes. "So…questions?" Still met with silence, I bravely or very possibly stupidly soldiered on. "So as you can see Sammy speaks and can reassign skin pigment. He can also raise Zombies and conjure Trolls and Gnomes. He can animate inanimate objects and he seems a bit prone
to violence. He's extremely loving and is growing at an alarming rate. He has a wonderful imagination…however, I have a difficult time believing he imagined the motherfucking six-headed Demon he conjured up last night."

  "Motherfucking," Sammy shouted.

  "Yes, and he likes to repeat things so from here on out all swearing around my child will stop. I simply won't tolerate it," I muttered, not making eye contact with anyone.

  "Pot, kettle, black," Pam said as the others nodded in agreement.

  "Fine," I hissed. "I realize I'm the main offender, but I know for a fact I didn't teach him about boobies." I stared hard at my Baby Demons who raised their tiny hands guiltily.

  "Me sorry," Abe said.

  "Me sorry toooooooo," Beyonce added morosely.

  "We no take him to strip clubs anymore," Ross said as Rachel nodded solemnly at his side. Ethan tensed and I shot him a look. I didn't want him to kill anyone in front of our son. We had enough problems without that added to them.

  "The six-headed Demon?" I inquired.

  "Sorry," Satan said sheepishly. "Those don't even exist. It was a harmless bedtime story. I'm thoroughly impressed that he can do that though."

  "Well, I'm not. I'm tired of almost dying on a daily basis."

  "Noted," Satan said.

  "Fire breathing kittens?" I asked.

  "Me," Mother Nature admitted.

  "Dogs with dagger paws?"

  "Um, me," Satan said. "They were the heroes in the story."

  "Of course they were," I snapped. "Flaming midgets?"

  "As in gay or on fire?" Mother Nature asked logically as she tossed her shiny red curls over her shoulder.

  "On fire."

  "Oh." She giggled. "That was me."

  "Great," I snapped. "Just so you know, it's highly unpleasant to be in the tub and dive bombed by burning little people."

  "I can see how that wouldn't appeal," she agreed.

  "So here's the deal. We all, including me, have to behave around Sammy. He's impressionable and innocent. I want him to stay that way as long as he can. Capisce?"

  "You do realize he's a True Immortal," my adorable little Grandpa said.

  "I figured as much," I mumbled as Ethan tensed beside me.

  All True Immortals were almost impossible to kill and nine existed. God was Good. Satan was Evil. Grandpa was Wisdom. Mother Nature was Emotion. The Angel of Death, Hayden, was Death, and the Angel of Light, Elijah, was Life. Dixie was Balance and Lucy was Temptation. I rounded out the motley crew as Compassion. What in the Hell could Samuel possibly be? Everything seemed to be covered already.

  “So Asshead," Pam, my Guardian Angel, said. "Are you finally ready to hear what gift your son has been given?"

  "Nope, but I'm sure you're going to tell me anyway." I grabbed Ethan's hand and touched Samuel with my other. How bad could this really be?

  "Samuel is Utopia," Mother Nature said reverently.

  "He's an imaginary island?" I asked, wondering why in the Hell my son was a land mass and what that could mean.

  "Of course not," Mother Nature trilled. "He's a visionary. He's ideal."

  "He's all of us," Grandpa said. "Samuel embodies the powers and gifts of all the True Immortals. He is the strongest of us all."

  Son of a bitch. They had to be joking. My son was good, evil, wisdom, emotion, life, death, balance, temptation and compassion? Therapy wasn't going to be able to touch that clusterfuck of a combination. Maybe a lobotomy…but no one was going to touch my baby with a knife and live to tell.

  "Sammy is Upoopia!" my baby shouted and clapped his hands, instantly bringing all the furniture in the room to life. Couches and chairs upended their occupants and began to dance around the room recklessly.

  "Outstanding," Satan yelled as he tangoed with a chaise. "My great nephew is tremendous."

  How the Devil didn't look like an idiot was beyond me. He actually made dancing with a sofa look hot. Mother Nature was doing something akin to humping with an ottoman and the rest of the crew were partnering up with pillows, end tables and knickknacks.

  "Enough," Ethan bellowed. The furniture froze as did all of the nut bags that were dancing with it. "Samuel, put the furniture back to sleep."

  "Okay, Daddy," he said and wiggled his chunky fingers. The tables, chairs and the rest floated gracefully back to their homes and the room quieted.

  "Clearly we have a few minor problems here," I said cheerfully through clenched teeth. "I think the best thing to do would be to limit visitation for a while…like thirty years or so, until Sammy has more of a grip on what will fly in normal society."

  "Mommy, Sammy make everything fly," he told me sweetly.

  "I know, baby, but sometimes that's not the best idea," I said and kissed his cheek.

  "That's a mistake," The Kev said quietly.

  "No, it's not," I argued. "It would be a shitshow and a half if he went to school and flew his little classmates all over the room and made the books and computers eat the teachers."

  "That's not what I meant," The Kev countered with a kind smile. "Sammy will never go to a normal school or even mingle with humans for a very long time."

  It was difficult to take someone who looked like David Hasselhoff seriously, but his words were hitting home in a harsh and realistic way. I wanted to cry, but bloody tears would fuck up my outfit. Plus, I needed to be strong for my child.

  "What do you mean?" Ethan asked. His voice was dangerous and low.

  I grabbed his hand and squeezed. Thank God I wasn't in this alone. I could kill an army of Rogue Demons, but tell me my son will never get to do Field Day or get asked to a Sadie Hawkins dance and I will weep a river.

  "It would be a grave miscalculation to block Samuel from those that share his powers. The only way he will survive is to learn to harness what he has been given. Astrid, you cannot teach your son to contain and use Evil any more than Satan could teach your child to embrace Compassion. He needs to spend time with all of us. He will be dangerous and untamable unless we work together."

  The words rang in my head. Dangerous? Untamable? WTF? My gut clenched and fear for my son consumed me. I shook my head to clear it and began to pace—movement helped me think. I felt magic leak from my pores and scatter through the room, bouncing around like ping pong balls. My family and friends ducked and steered clear while I marched around the room and tried to calm down. If The Kev was correct, which he usually was, I needed to keep Sammy in contact with his family. If I chose not to, my guess was that Samuel could become something so powerful he would have to be destroyed. God help anyone who would try to destroy my child. Well…it was a no brainer. However, I could still lay down a few parameters.

  "Okay, fine," I said tightly. "Ethan, would you cover Sammy's ears?" He did. "We will raise him as a village. However, I am his mother and Ethan is his father. We have the final word on everything." The crowd nodded agreeably. "No more ten-headed fucking Demons."

  "It was six," Satan volunteered.

  "Thank you for the clarification," I snapped and rolled my eyes.

  "No problem," he said and winked. My Uncle Satan was a piece of work…

  "No boobies, or strip clubs, no fire breathing dagger wielding anything. No prejudice or hate will be condoned. I am going to invest in duct tape for my mouth. If I catch anyone cussing around him I will take your voice box for a week. If you persist I will remove your tongue. Oh, and no twerking or pole dancing."

  Mother Nature sighed dramatically. "That's just not fair." She pouted and stamped her tiny foot, causing a minor earthquake to rumble through the massive ballroom.

  "You can teach him to bake instead," I offered. Shocked gasps and covert gagging noises filled the room.

  My grandmother contemplated my proposition and then laughed with delight. It sounded like wind chimes and I bit back a grin.

  "That is a wonderful idea! We will start with cookies," she trilled with excitement.

  Satan choked and Dixie slapped her hand over her mouth to disguise he
r laughter. Mother Nature was the worst cook in the universe—bar none. Of course that didn't stop her. She adored cooking…almost as much as she enjoyed pole dancing. According to those I knew that could eat, her food was horrendous. Hyenas turned up their noses at her concoctions and they'd eat anything. However, since Sammy didn't actually eat, I figured cooking with his great grandma was fairly harmless.

  "As far as school goes…" I said cautiously.

  I didn't know what to do about that. I had wanted him to have a normal childhood, but that was clearly not in the big picture. I needed some time to come up with a plan B.