Fashionably Dead Down Under

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Fashionably Dead Down Under Page 12

by Robyn Peterman


  “Yes.”

  With Bambi’s help, I loaded Ethan’s massive frame over George’s back. I popped my monsters in my pocket and I made our sextet invisible. I felt shaky, having expended so much magic, but there was no time to rejuvenate. I briefly considered drinking from Ethan, but he was so weak I decided against it.

  “Are we ready?” George asked.

  “As we’re ever gonna be,” I answered, hoping we’d make it out of here but having no clue what to do after that.

  “Then let’s go,” he grunted.

  And we did.

  Chapter 14

  Now I knew why they knocked me out the first time through. It was not pretty. If this was the waiting area, I knew I never wanted to see the rest. The thought of my mother in the basement sat heavy on my heart. I was sure if I was cast down there she wouldn’t have given me a second thought, but I was not my mother. She got what she deserved, but I couldn’t shake the constricted feeling in my chest when I thought about her.

  Dark and smoky hallways filled with Demons and soul lights were all I could see for what seemed like miles. No one was actually doing anything wrong, but the smell of sex and blood was everywhere. It was depressing and quietly terrifying. Unable to put my finger on exactly why, I attributed it to the muted moaning and crying. I missed the overplayed Journey soundtracks from the main level. The Hounds walked the corridors as if they owned them and were given a wide berth by everything and everyone we passed. The fear they instilled was palpable. Clearly no one knew them the way I did.

  “Is your reputation earned?” I asked.

  “Yes,” George said.

  “Nice.”

  “Thank you.”

  After a long while we entered the area with the desks, Demons and soul lights. I breathed a sigh of relief only to be followed by a sharp intake of breath.

  “What’s wrong, Little Astrid?” Bambi asked, concerned.

  “Where will I take Ethan? Can you take us to a portal?”

  “Your mate is not strong enough to make it home through a portal and I do believe you have offered your services to help find the Sword of Death. I would have thought you were a woman of your word,” the General huffed indignantly.

  “I am,” I hissed. “My intention was to send him home and stay till I finished whatever was expected of me here.”

  “Do you really think the most powerful Vampyre in the world would go for that plan?” George chuckled at my lack of foresight.

  “I hadn’t thought that far,” I muttered, hating that yet again the General was correct. “Okay, Smartypants, where will he be safe?”

  “There is a guest house on Dixie’s property. We will go there.”

  “Fine. Go fast. I don’t want to run into anyone I’d have to kill. I’m not in the mood right now,” I said, hoping Ethan would stay knocked out till we arrived.

  “As you wish.”

  ***

  The guesthouse was charming—one bedroom, a living area, kitchen, dining area and a huge bathroom with a sunken tub. God, I wanted to get in the tub and wash the stench of Hell’s waiting area off of my body, but there was no time for that at the moment.

  The Hounds helped me get Ethan to the bed and I wrapped him in blankets after I cleaned his now healing wounds. I tried to feed him more blood, but in his exhausted and unconscious state he refused to cooperate.

  “You will need to cloak the house,” Bambi told me through her eyebrows as she peed on the front porch wrought iron furniture.

  “Um, is that necessary?” I asked as she continued to mark the flowerbeds, the bird feeder and the small garden shed.

  “The cloaking? Yes. The peeing? No, but it’s fun.” She giggled and finished up by urinating on the welcome mat. It smelled like brownies, but it was still gross.

  “Once you’ve cloaked the house we shall leave. All you have to do is call us in your mind if you need us. We will come,” George said, admiring Bambi’s work.

  “Why?”

  “What do you mean?” he asked, lifting his leg and hitting a few spots Bambi had apparently missed.

  “Why are you helping me?” Everyone had an ulterior motive here. What was theirs?

  “Because you’re special,” his eyebrows bounced, answering logically.

  “What does that mean?” I blew out an exasperated sigh and wondered why everyone was so fucking cryptic.

  “It’s for me to know and you to find out,” he grunted and then laughed uproariously at his own joke.

  “What are you? Five?” I snapped.

  “I am far beyond five, but your lack of maturity seems to be rubbing off on me.” He grinned and bowed. “Thank you for an eventful day, Little Astrid. Good luck to you, you will need it.”

  “Me want to play with doggies,” Abe screeched from my pocket. Hell’s Bells, I’d forgotten they were in there.

  “Me tooooo. Me ride the doggie and jump on him and tickle him,” Rachel added enthusiastically.

  “My doggy. Me have the doggy,” Beyonce yelled, flying out of my pocket and landing on the General’s snout.

  “Me kick your asssssssssssss,” Ross grunted, dive bombing Beyonce and starting a slap fight of epic proportions on George’s head.

  “Enough,” George roared. The Demons froze and looked curiously at him. “If you promise to behave and Astrid okays it you may come for a play date at the Dark Palace.”

  A chorus of, “Pleeeeeze Mommmmy,” made my head ache.

  “Will they be safe?”

  Bambi and the General rolled their beady eyes at me and shook their bulbous heads.

  “Fine.” I gave in. The Hounds would probably be able to keep a better eye on them than I could. “You little turds behave,” I said, kissing them. “Will you bring them home tonight?”

  “Absolutely.” The Hell Hounds were excited to have little guests and the little guests were screaming with joy so loudly I had to slap my hands over my ears.

  In the most beautiful blast of magic and glitter I’d seen yet, the Hell Hounds disappeared with my monsters. Good luck . . . you’ll need it? That did not sound good. At all. For now I felt relatively safe with the guesthouse cloaked. Dixie would think I’d gone for a walk and I had at least an hour or so to wake Ethan up and get him up to speed.

  Locking the doors and windows seemed silly considering I was in a place where people popped up magically, but it made the former human side of me feel more secure. Ethan was still out. He’d kicked off the covers and his muscle bound body was in full view. I ran my fingers over the light sprinkling of blond hair on his chest. I breathed in his scent and snuggled up next to him—warm and safe. He made me whole.

  “I love you,” I whispered.

  “I love you too, you crazy Vampyre.” His voice was hoarse, but laced with amusement.

  I bolted up and took his face in my hands. “Are you okay?”

  “I’ve been better, but I would feel very happy if you were naked.”

  “You’re a sex addict.” I grinned and whipped my shirt over my head.

  “I’m your sex addict,” he shot, back removing his pants and boxer briefs since he was already shirtless. I was stunned motionless. How had I forgotten how beautiful he was? Perfect.

  “Pants need to go,” he said, sliding them and my panties down my legs. “Stand up,” he commanded gruffly. I stepped back and let him look. He reverently placed his lips on my still flat stomach and bathed it in sweet kisses. “So gorgeous. So beautiful. Mine.”

  With Vampyre speed he put me underneath him. His lips and hands were everywhere and I shuddered in anticipation. His fangs scraped my breasts and my hips bucked involuntarily. His erection pressed into my belly and I moaned.

  “No foreplay, Ethan. Please, I need you now.”

  The sexy sound he made set my lower regions on fire. I was wet and so ready. My head spun as he trailed his mouth from mine to the place on my neck that made me senseless.

  “Now,” I hissed, spreading my legs and wrapping them around him.

&nbs
p; “I aim to please,” he growled, lifting my ass with his strong hands.

  “Excuse me, kids, I know this might be a bad time and all . . . ”

  WTF? Grandpa?

  “Oh my God,” I shrieked and rolled out from under Ethan. Wrapping a sheet over my naked body and putting a pillow over Ethan’s privates I glared at my grandfather. “Grandpa, get out!”

  “Right. Of course. I’ll meet you in the living room,” he said, giving Ethan the thumbs up and winking at me.

  “Who was that?” Ethan demanded, frustrated and pissed. “And how in the hell did he get in here?”

  “My grandpa, and I have no clue. I cloaked the house and locked the doors. Shit,” I groaned, looking at my still fully erect mate. “We’re going to have to get back to this later.” I ran my hand lightly over his ragingly hard erection and damned my grandfather to Hell. I laughed as I realized how redundant that was.

  “You think this is funny? I’m not sure I can walk. And if you touch me again,” he threatened, “I don’t care if all of Hell is out there. I’m going to fuck my wife.”

  “I like when you say that.” I giggled and grabbed my clothes.

  “Which part?” he asked as he retrieved his torn pants and pulled them on.

  “Um . . . all of it, but especially the wife part.”

  “You are my wife and my mate and everything that matters to me. Always,” he said, pulling me into his strong arms and kissing me thoroughly.

  “Oh, Ethan,” I gasped and pulled back. “We had all the history of Hell wrong.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Too long to tell you everything now, but my dad, Abbadon, was not in charge. He was Satan’s mentally imbalanced brother. He lied to your father.”

  “Are you quite sure?”

  “Very. Apparently he was a loose cannon and everyone, including Satan, is delighted that he’s gone.”

  “That explains the Uncle Satan thing,” Ethan mused, still mulling over the fact that his race had believed what turned out to be fiction for hundreds of years. “Does God exist?”

  “Yep. He’s Satan’s brother and he’s good and lives in Heaven. Oh, and Heaven is not up above, it’s just a different plane. Just like Hell isn’t below . . . different plane. We share the same sun, moon and stars.”

  “You’re making me dizzy,” he said, sitting on the edge of the bed.

  “Trust me, I know. Totally screwed up, but I didn’t want you sounding like an idiot out there.”

  “Why thank you,” he said sarcastically. I realized it was going to take him hundreds of years to get used to me not kissing his ass.

  “No problem, sexy. Now come meet my certifiable grandpa.”

  Chapter 15

  “You’re a fucking Sprite,” Ethan bellowed in disbelief. That certainly wasn’t the best first line when you meet your mate’s extended family . . .

  “Um . . . Ethan,” I stepped in front of him just in case he decided to punctuate his anger with a little magic or a fist. I knew my grandpa was a True Immortal and I had no clue if that came with extra super powers. I just got my mate back and I was taking no chances. “He’s a Sprite and a Demon. He’s the one who helped me at my mother’s memorial service.”

  “How did he help you?”

  “He gave me the clue about how to kill her,” I told him. This seemed to calm him down a little bit . . .

  “Have you grabbed her ass?” Ethan demanded of my grandpa, who was highly amused by all of this.

  “Most certainly not,” he huffed. “I am far too busy avoiding my shrew of a wife to be grabbing anyone’s ass. And I would never grab my granddaughter’s ass. Ever.”

  “Okay then, now that we’ve all met and sniffed each other’s butts, why are you here and how in the hell did you get through my cloaking?” I asked my cute little bastard of a grandpa.

  “Darling, nothing keeps me out of where I want to be,” he explained, making himself comfortable on the couch.

  “You answered half. Why are you here?” I demanded. Keeping my grandpa on track was similar to herding greased cats.

  “Fucking Sprites,” Ethan muttered under his breath.

  “I can hear you,” Grandpa snapped.

  “I certainly hope so,” Ethan replied politely.

  Help me, Cousin Jesus.

  “Enough.” I glared at Ethan and then turned my ire on my gramps. “Spit it out or leave.”

  “Fine, dear,” he sighed dramatically. “When it came to my attention that you busted your boyfriend out I was worried about both of you.”

  “You knew he was being held? Like an animal? Being molested by a slut named Lust?” I shouted.

  “Yes. No and no,” he answered, looking a bit put out.

  “What exactly are you upset about?” I asked. “The fact that he was being held or the torture he was being put through?”

  “I’m quite perturbed that I didn’t know this. I am sorry that the father of your child was treated disrespectfully, despite the fact that he is rude. That was not ordered by anyone to my knowledge.”

  “Would my Uncle Fucker have ordered this?”

  “Astrid, I’d avoid that endearment,” Gramps admonished. “Lucifer’s sense of humor isn’t that broad.”

  “I wasn’t joking.”

  “Yes, well . . . let’s get back to the matter at hand,” Grandpa was flustered. It was incongruous with what I’d seen of him thus far, but what did I know? I thought he was a wall. “How long do you feel that you’ve been here?” he asked Ethan.

  “A day—maybe two. Do you run consecutively with Earth time?”

  “Not exactly,” Grandpa told him. “But you confound me. You have your power. Vampyres are always rendered magic-free in Hell. Why are you different?”

  “Because of me,” I said. Both men looked at me and waited. Ethan wasn’t going to like what I was about to say, but . . . “He’s had my blood. Would that make the difference?”

  Ethan’s jaw worked silently, but he said nothing. Grandpa sat quietly and considered.

  “Yes, it would make a difference if . . . ” He stopped himself.

  “If what?” I asked. The time for half stories and ‘Let’s Let Astrid Figure It Out On Her Own’ was over. “If what?” I repeated.

  “I’m not at liberty to say,” he muttered and rubbed his cute little head, making his hair stand on end.

  “Oh, for God’s sake,” I yelled. “I’ve got a little problem here and if you can help me I would really appreciate it.”

  “That’s Uncle God to you,” he corrected. I rolled my eyes and plastered my arms to my sides so I wouldn’t slap him.

  “The issue is that I can survive a week in Hell. I need to know how time is running,” Ethan said, avoiding eye contact with me.

  “You can only be here a week?” I shrieked and Ethan nodded. “Can you find out or adjust the time thingie?” I asked Grandpa frantically.

  “That is very complicated.” Gramps looked pained and frightened.

  “If he dies I join him.”

  “What? You can’t die.” Gramps was shocked. Clearly he didn’t know everything.

  “We’re mated—if one of us dies the other follows. So as I see it, you have a couple of choices. Take us to a portal so I can send Ethan home and complete whatever I have to do here . . . ”

  “Not an option,” Ethan snapped.

  “Alrighty then, Pops, you have one choice. Stop time on Earth until I find your stinking Sword of Death.”

  “Shit.” Grandpa turned green and then ghostly white. “There’s only one way.”

  “Will it hurt?” I asked, expecting something hideous.

  “Not you, my dear. Me.”

  That stopped me. As much as I wanted to throttle the tiny man, I had fallen a little in love with my grandpa. “Will it kill you?”

  “Oh no,” he laughed. “I actually enjoy a bit of pain.”

  “TMI, Gramps. What do we have to do?”

  “I have to call in a favor with your grandm
a,” he whispered. His head snapped around and he fearfully searched the room.

  “Is she here?” I asked quietly, backing into a corner in case the ceiling caved in.

  “What’s happening?” Ethan asked, picking up on the terror.

  “Not sure,” I muttered, “but come stand by me just in case.”

  He hopped up and joined me. Grandpa swallowed several times, ran his hands through his already messy hair and then chanted in a language that was vaguely familiar to me. The melody was transfixing and I found myself swaying.

  Slowly the carpet turned to grass and the furniture to boulders and bushes. The curtains transformed from brocade to blindingly colorful flowering vines. The scents were divine. Trees sprouted and burst through the ceiling. Heavy unfamiliar orange and blood red fruit hung from the branches. Pastel colored birds flew gracefully around the room and tiny monkeys hopped from the limbs to the bushes. I idly wondered if the house would ever go back to normal, but this was so gorgeous, I didn’t really care.

  “It’s beautiful,” I said as a purple bird landed on my shoulder.

  “Son of a bitch, shit, hellfire and damnation,” a female voice screamed. “I was in the middle of Jeopardy. This had better be good, or I’ll turn your ass into a tree.”

  The voice, hypnotically beautiful, did not match the words flying from the mouth of the disheveled beauty standing in the middle of the forest that used to be a guesthouse. She wore a gown made of a sheer sparkling fabric like none I’d ever seen. Yards and yards of the tulle-like material floated around her. Her hair was a wild mass of fiery red curls and her skin was a pale porcelain. But her eyes . . . her eyes were the clearest, brightest blue and they glittered. She was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen and she was pissed.

  Her magic filled the room. It had an earthy scent to it with a distinct undertone of malice. Every move she made was sensual and dangerous. Shit, I hoped this was the right decision.

  “Bill, this is not good timing,” she hissed. “That smug bastard Alex Trebek mispronounced a word and I was watching the gas filled douchewanker squirm. It was glorious.”

  Grandpa’s name was Bill? Satan’s father was named Bill? How was that possible? I bit back the hysterical laughter that was trapped in my throat and prayed that she wouldn’t notice us.

 

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