Fashionably Fanged

by Robyn Peterman

  I wholeheartedly agreed with Astrid. Did the bastard think I wasn’t qualified? My anger bubbled beneath the surface, but before being dismissed I needed a few more pieces of the puzzle.

  “With all due respect, I deserve to know more about the plan. I’ll follow your orders without question, but it’s only fair that I know what I’m doing,” I said, trying not to flinch at the litany of swear words coming from Gareth.

  The man didn’t own me. He had no say over what my Prince demanded of me. And if he kept cursing at me, I was going to go Rambo on his ass. I didn’t care who was present.

  “Enough, Gareth,” Ethan shouted. “You will get your privacy with me momentarily. Venus is not out of line.”

  “Thank you, sire.” I bowed my head to him, avoiding eye contact with Gareth at all costs.

  “The plan is for you to get information from Juliette. We will then register you for the next pageant that the object of Vlad’s obsession will be competing in. If the woman is agreeable, we’ll use her as bait. If not, we go with plan B.”

  “That’s the worst damn plan I ever heard,” Gareth yelled and further defaced Ethan’s office by putting his fist through the wall. “What the fuck is plan B? We invite him back to the house for tea and crumpets?”

  “Plan B is to dismember him—arms and legs—so we can take him alive,” Ethan went on ignoring the destruction to his office. “Actually, that’s also part of plan A. It’ll just be easier if we have a decoy.”

  The sound of lamps crashing and furniture being thrown was difficult to ignore—difficult but doable.

  “I won’t have Venus put at risk that way,” Gareth said taking a short break from demolishing Ethan’s office. “Not happening.”

  “Not your call,” I shot back angrily, but baffled as to why he was throwing such a fit. It almost seemed like the jerk cared. Wishful thinking was going to get me in trouble. Not going there.

  “Enough,” Ethan said to Gareth. “Venus, are you agreeable?”

  “I am,” I said, accepting the flimsy proposal. “Do you have a likeness of this female Vamp from the pageant?”

  “I do,” Ethan said reaching into a stack of drawings and handing me one.

  The ringing in my ears as I looked at the face of the woman blocked out Gareth’s tantrum. However, it was her name printed below the likeness that was a deadly punch to my dead heart. The room spun and my gut burned like it had been knifed with silver. My body shook and I grabbed Astrid by the shoulder for purchase. How was this possible? There was a slight resemblance to Juliette, but not as much as I’d expected. I could never forget this particular face. Ever. It was burned into my memories.

  “Are you all right?” Astrid was alarmed as she wrapped her arms around me.

  “I am,” I replied, but my voice seemed to come from somewhere far away. “No, I’m not.”

  “Talk to me,” Astrid urged.

  “May I have permission to end the woman after we capture Vlad?”

  Ethan glanced at me sharply in confusion and surprise. “Why would you want to kill the Vamp? She has nothing to do with Vlad.”

  “Call it an old vendetta,” I said tonelessly. I slipped gently from Astrid’s embrace and stood on my own two feet. “She’ll be the bait. I can guarantee it. She owes me a life—several, in fact. But I want to be granted full permission to end hers.”

  Gareth was now silent and I felt all eyes in the room boring into me.

  “You ask for very little, Venus,” Ethan said in a measured tone. “I know you wouldn’t ask for a life without reason. I grant and support your request. However, as your Prince I have the right to know why.”

  Nodding my head and trying to find words instead of the scream that wanted to leave my lips took more effort than killing Trolls or Demons.

  “Her name is Claudia. I had no idea she’d been turned or she’d be ash already. She was the wife of my master,” I spat.

  “Your master?” Gareth asked, not following.

  It wasn’t a surprise he didn’t understand. Master could mean several things to a Vampyre—a sire, a leader… but that wasn’t what I meant. Gareth didn’t know my history. Honestly, I didn’t want him to know my past. It was mine and I wanted no pity for it. I’d taken care of the man who’d murdered my mother, sisters and brothers in cold blood with a whip. The image of their broken bodies covered in bloody stripes where the whip had torn their skin away from the bone was branded into my brain for eternity.

  I’d tried to end my own life after their deaths, but the memory of my family and my need for vengeance wouldn’t allow me to do something so selfish. It took me many decades to let go of the guilt of not being with them when they died.

  Much to my genuine surprise and serious shock, the wives’ tale that had always terrified me as a child about the walking dead turned out to be very real. I’d been hiding in the woods and living like an animal for weeks when I happened upon the beautiful man whose sparkling green eyes and sharp teeth I would never forget. I begged him to make me like him. His ethereal skin was pale and he glowed like what I’d always imagined an Angel would look like.

  Initially I was unsure if I was hallucinating from starvation or if I’d gone insane—it was neither of those things. He was very real and I was drawn to him like a moth to a flame. I’d expected him to spit on me—the only way I’d ever known whites to treat blacks—but he didn’t. He told me he’d watched me for many years and it would be his honor to gift me the strength to do right by my family.

  After I’d been turned, I saw my benefactor only once more. He stood and watched me destroy those that had destroyed me. Afterward, I’d pleaded with him to take me with him, but he told me that was impossible. He promised to watch over me when he could and urged me to find the Vampyre Prince named Ethan. It took me a few years, but I followed his orders. I eventually became one of Ethan’s people—loved, cared for, and trained to be a killer. Often I’d searched for my undead guardian Angel, but no one knew of a Vampyre by his description. I thanked the man daily in my prayers and hoped to one day come across my savior again.

  As for my master, I killed him. I killed the man whose name I would never utter again as brutally as he’d killed those I had loved. I’d also taken out the foreman, and everyone else who looked the other way, or enjoyed the horrifying death of my indentured family. The only one I’d missed was the wife. I had missed killing Claudia.

  Somehow, she’d gotten away. But this time she wouldn’t.

  Maybe that’s why I was still here when the rest of my family was long gone

  The risks I’d taken with my undead life suddenly bothered me. I could have perished and Claudia would have gone on living—me never knowing she did. Although, the risks I’d taken had made me the killing machine I was today… so perhaps things had worked as they were meant to.

  “Claudia was the wife of my master,” I repeated flatly. “I was a slave during my human years. He’s dead by my hand, and if I could kill him again, I would.”

  The silence in the room was as thick as the power still floating around.

  “This might be a bad idea,” Ethan said, staring at me and trying to gage my reactions. “This is too important to risk mixing it with vengeance. Perhaps it hits you too close to home.”

  “But…” I started, only to be halted by his hand.

  “You have my blessing and permission to go after her. She’s yours after we have Vlad. But you will have nothing to do with the mission.”

  “Finally some sense,” Gareth snapped.

  “Sire, you’re wrong,” I said, imploring Ethan with every cell in my body. “By Vampyre law, she owes me many lives for what she was complicit with in her human years. She will be our bait, but you need me to make that happen. She was, and I assume is still, a woman who is only out for herself. The only way to make her play is to play her… and I know how.”

  “Not liking this,” Ethan said, pressing his temples and thinking it through.

  “I’m your best bet and I want
the job. While it’s not something to brag about, if I catch Vlad from behind, I can take his arms and legs in a heartbeat.”

  “No, no, no,” Gareth said, approaching me with narrowed eyes.

  “Stop,” I hissed, halting him with my glare. “You are not my Prince. You are a dying man, along with three of your siblings. If Vlad and an Angel were able to curse the four of you, they can curse more. Ending Vlad is the only way to stop his idea that he can kill off the entire Royal Family. And unless you have a better plan, I’d suggest you shut your overbearing, macho, jackass cakehole, and let some qualified people save your worthless damn life.”

  Again the silence was thick. Astrid’s eyes were wide and Ethan’s proud smile could not be contained. It was only Gareth who still fumed.

  “Guess she told you,” Astrid told Gareth with a solid poke to his ribs.

  With a grunt, he moved right to his brother. “Fine. Venus goes, but I go with her. I know Vlad. I’ll know him in disguise. She doesn’t leave this compound unless I’m with her.”

  “You’re dying. You’re a liability,” Ethan said bluntly. “Venus is safer alone than with you.”

  “Not if I get a little stay on my illness,” Gareth countered.

  “How in the ever loving hell are you going to do that?” Astrid demanded, with her hands on her slim hips.

  It was a very good question.

  “Funny you should mention hell,” Gareth said with a devastating grin. “Can you get ahold of Satan?”

  “Oh, hell to the no,” I muttered, knowing for sure the Vampyre had lost his mind.

  “You’re joking,” Ethan said, pressing the bridge of his nose and shuddering.

  “Not one bit,” Gareth assured him.

  “You’ll owe him a favor,” Astrid warned.

  “Bring it on,” Gareth said, completely uncaring that he would be indebted to the King of the Underworld.

  I didn’t think this day could get any worse.

  I was wrong.

  Chapter Five

  “Alrighty, watch out. This shit might get messy. Uncle Fucker occasionally gets pissy about being summoned by surprise,” Astrid warned as she cleared some furniture out of the way.

  “This is a very bad idea,” Ethan grumbled as he helped his mate move the coffee table and armchairs.

  “No duh, Sexy Pants,” Astrid shot back. “It’s never a good plan to invite Lucifer into your home after eleven, but a gal’s gotta do what a gal’s gotta do when a psycho-fuck like Vlad is still on the loose.”

  “I take full responsibility for the request of his presence,” Gareth said, firmly. “All favors owed shall be mine.”

  “Damn right you will.” Ethan shot his brother a glare that would have withered a lesser man.

  “And if he steals anything, you have to replace it,” Astrid added with a laugh.

  “Steals?” I asked, confused.

  “He’s got a thing for office supplies,” Astrid explained as if it were normal everyday conversation that the Devil liked staplers.

  I simply nodded. Weird didn’t even begin to cover that piece of news. I had to agree with Ethan on this one. Calling on the Devil should only be a last resort. I mean, I liked Satan—as much as one could say they liked a Demon from the Underworld. He was all kinds of tall, dark, gorgeous, and every kind of insane. He’d always been cordial to me, if not a little flirty.

  “Back up,” Astrid warned again. “Uncle Fucker’s entrances tend to be a little fiery. Literally.”

  “Can’t you just call him?” Gareth asked as he backed up and shielded my body with his.

  “Dude, phones don’t work so well from one plane to another,” I told him, pushing him away. I didn’t need his protection. “Verizon doesn’t have a Hell plan.”

  “Right.” He nodded curtly and moved right back into my personal space.

  Whatever. There was no time to put Gareth in his place at the moment. If he needed to be an overprotective alpha-hole, so be it. If it made him feel better to think he was keeping me from harm, I’d let him believe the fallacy. However, a tiny voice in my head that I squashed with a vengeance kind of liked it. With a quick pinch to my arm, I reminded myself of my less than stellar taste in men.

  An eerie silence fell over Ethan’s office as Astrid closed her eyes and raised her hands high. A gentle breeze floated around the room and gave me a chill that skittered up my spine. I wrapped my arms around myself and pressed my body against the wall. Astrid was incredibly powerful, but occasionally her magic went wonky and things blew up unexpectedly. We’d all heal from any injury incurred from a blast, but it might not be in good form to receive Satan with missing body parts.

  Astrid chanted in a long-dead language as she sparkled like a beacon. We watched in awe as she swayed to an ancient rhythm only she could hear. Ethan and Gareth’s tension was palpable. My own fingernails bit into my arms. However, Satan adored his niece. The ramifications of Astrid summoning the Devil were far less dangerous than someone screwing around with a Ouija board. It wasn’t without risk, but Astrid was one of the very few that had Beelzebub by the balls.

  “For the love of everything vile and illegal, this had better be good,” a familiar and ominous voice growled as Satan appeared in a blast of sparkling black glitter. The Devil was clad from head to toe in black Armani—both beautiful and scary. “And Astrid darling, the name is Satan, Prince of Darkness, Beelzebub, Lucifer or The Great Evil Handsome Devil. If you insist on calling me Uncle Fucker, I’ll start spending every weekend at your abode.”

  “Fuck,” Ethan groaned.

  “Quiet,” Astrid hissed under her breath. “He would never do that. Kentucky gets too cold for his fire loving ass.”

  “I can hear you,” Satan said with an eye roll.

  “It’s the truth,” Astrid argued in her defense. “You’re a total weenie about the snow.”

  “Weenie resides in the same forbidden category as Uncle Fucker,” Satan said, his eyes narrowing dangerously. “It’s a good thing I enjoy your disrespect. Lesser beings wouldn’t be breathing after a crack like that.”

  “That’s kind of a moot threat since I don’t breathe,” Astrid pointed out with a wide grin as Ethan let his head fall back and bang against the wall.

  “So it is,” Satan agreed with a chuckle of pride at his niece’s insolence. “You pulled me away from a Hoarders marathon. What do you need?” Satan asked, taking in the occupants in the room.

  The Devil was a huge and imposing man. His very presence changed the atmosphere in the office from stressed to menacing.

  “I need a stay on my illness so I can go after Vlad and have the curse removed,” Gareth said stepping forward.

  “Again?” Satan commanded.

  “I need a stay on my illness so I can go after Vlad and have the curse removed,” Gareth repeated in a voice so calm I was amazed.

  I suppose if you had very little to lose, Satan wasn’t all that scary. Either that or Gareth had a death wish.

  “So, run this by me one more time,” Satan said in a silky smooth voice. He made himself comfortable on the couch in Ethan’s office grinning like a cat who’d eaten a pet store full of canaries.

  “I know you’re not deaf,” Astrid grumbled. “Gareth repeated himself twice. Clearly you’re older than dirt, but I was unaware that True Immortals could have hearing issues.”

  “Oh please, my beautiful, grumpy niece, I heard him perfectly. I just enjoy a bit of groveling.”

  I stayed quiet and watched in abject fascination. I’d been in the presence of Satan a good handful of times, but his otherworldly beauty was always something to behold—and fear. As Astrid had explained over and over, Satan wasn’t evil personified like some referred to him. Evil existed because of free will—and God—Satan’s brother—had created that little doozy. Satan didn’t design sin. He simply punished those who chose that particular path. And he enjoyed his job. A lot.

  “The favors I will owe you should negate the need for groveling,” Gareth said with
very little regard to Satan’s position in the pecking order. “Tell me what you want and it will be yours, Devil. We’ve played this game before.”

  “Is he talking to me?” Satan asked Astrid as his fingers began to spark. “Because if he is, that tone will get him an ass smiting that will last an eternity.”

  “No, he was talking to the imaginary harbinger of evil sitting behind you,” Astrid groused. “Look, you can either do it or you can’t. If you can’t, we’ll call on someone else.”

  “For the love of everything dishonorable, disgusting and corrupt. Of course I can do it,” Satan shouted, throwing a mini tantrum and setting the couch on fire. “Can’t I have any fun? It’s been boring in Hell lately.”

  With a flick of her fingers, Astrid put out the fire with magic and rolled her neck in preparation to handle the most dangerous man in the Universe.

  “Here.” Astrid shoved an electric pencil sharpener into his hands. “Play with this. I’m not in the mood for putting out fires tonight.”

  “Can I keep it?” he asked as he took the gadget and examined it with interest.

  “Would it matter if I said no?” she asked with a laugh.

  “Probably not,” Satan replied with an answering laugh and then turned his attention to Gareth. “This will cost you—as you already know.”

  “The price is immaterial,” Gareth replied.

  “I’m quite sure you’ll live to regret that statement,” Satan purred.

  “Possibly,” Gareth agreed with a lopsided grin and a shrug. “However, if I live, it will be my great displeasure to pay you back.”

  “Holy Hell, you Vampyres are so much fun—balls and egos for days. Welcome back to the fold, Gareth. However, full disclosure, which mind you I’m not in the habit of doing because I’m not usually this generous, but you got me on a good day—there is another way.”

  “To reverse the curse?” I asked, before I knew I was even speaking aloud. And what dealings had Gareth had with the Devil?

  “Ahhhh, Venus. You’re a breathtaking sight for sore eyes,” Satan said as his eyes lit up with sexual interest. “It would be my great pleasure to take you away from here—not to mention one of my fantasies. The things I’d like to do to you…”