Fashionably Fanged: Book Eight, The Hot Damned Series

by Robyn Peterman

  “I found your description of killing dos dat you perceived as doing you wrong quite entertaining,” he said with an unapologetic shrug and a chuckle. “And your descriptions of certain members of the Royal Family vere amusing to say de least. Very silly dat you seem to still carry a torch for de one dat turned you. And interesting dat he cared so little for you to never see you again. However, I do find it tragic dat you still harbor so much anger about being a slave. For de love of God, dat was hundreds of years ago. I dink you should get over it.”

  If I could breathe, I’d be hyperventilating. If my heart could beat, it would have bounced out of my chest. He’d read my diary, smack talked the kind, beautiful man who’d saved my life and turned me, and made light of the horrors of my human life. The son of a bitch had just played a very bad hand.

  “Perceived?” I hissed.

  “You can’t possibly expect me to believe you vere treated like an animal—starved, beaten, used,” he shot back.

  Since gasping or hurling were out, I chose the next best thing. “Would you like a weapon or would you prefer hand to hand? Honestly, it doesn’t really matter since you’re going down,” I informed him in a voice so soft the idiot had to lean in to hear.

  “You are not serious,” he huffed indignantly with an uncomfortable flash of fear in his eyes.

  “Oh, I’m very serious. Pick or I’ll choose for you.”

  “You are a mere voman,” he insisted in a pompous tone, but backed away in caution. “I am an esteemed visitor from de European Dominion. You vill not touch me.”

  “You’re correct, Edvard,” I said flatly. “Touch connotes gentleness and caring—neither of which I feel for you at the moment. I clearly had a temporary mental break to think you were worthy of my time. You are no warrior or man of honor. No self respecting Vampyre with tiny sparkly man junk breaks into a safe and takes what isn’t his. You’re a weenie, just like Astrid said you were, and I’m in the mood to kick your ass to Hell and back.”

  “I vas right! You did write de letter!” he shouted, throwing the books at me and picking up my favorite Mackenzie Childs lamp. “And I’m not a veenie.”

  I closed my eyes briefly and groaned. I had the worst damned taste in men. Breaking into my safe, reading my journal, and boring me to violence was unfortunate—for his undead lifespan. However, if he hurled my one of a kind lamp at me, he’d leave in pieces. It had lions and fish on it. I loved lions and fish.

  “Put it down. Now,” I growled.

  “Or vat?” he taunted, clearly realizing he might have a slight upper hand.

  “Put it down and I let you leave my suite undead. Break it and you leave for real dead.”

  “You dink I’m stupid, don’t you? You used me and I vas having feelings for you. You can do no better dan Edvard. I know you vant dat dying Vampyre Prince,” Edward sneered, carelessly twirling the lamp and grinning widely.

  “I have no clue what you’re babbling about,” I lied without batting an eyelash.

  The dying Vampyre Prince was none of his business—or mine for that matter.

  “Here’s what I do know. Speaking about yourself in third person is all kinds of loser-y. You took what is mine. Reading my journal is lower than scum. You’re holding a one of a kind lamp in your slimy hands right now and I happen to really like that lamp. However,” I added, centering myself and letting my anger go so I wouldn’t be sloppy or break anything in my suite when I busted his ass. “If I find your finger prints on anything else that was in my safe, I will tie you into a knot and hang you by your tiny man junk. Literally.”

  The idiot simply grinned and dropped the lamp to the ground. The sound of the glass shattering echoed through my sanctuary. Edvard had just thrown down the gauntlet—or rather the lions and the fish. It was the nicest thing he’d ever done for me. The son of a bitch had just given me permission to release the enormous amount of tension that had been building up inside of me.

  Edward had dropped the ball on the goal line and I was going to pick it up and score.

  The game was on.

  “Explain to me again how a visiting Vampyre to our compound lost all of his teeth and several limbs?” Ethan inquired, squinting his eyes and running his hand over his mouth.

  I couldn’t be sure, but there was a chance he was amused.

  “He broke my lamp, my liege,” I mumbled, staring at the ceiling in my Prince’s massive office.

  I knew it sounded lame. It was lame. It was lame with a freakin’ cherry on top.

  “Oh for shit’s sake,” Astrid groused, tossing aside her fashion magazine and throwing her hands in the air. “Edward’s a loser—a sneaky loser. He’s overstayed his welcome. And he didn’t just break a damn lamp. He broke into her safe and read her journal.”

  “He can pick safes?” Ethan asked in a tone that made the hair rise on my neck.

  “Apparently,” I told him.

  “Did he steal anything?” Ethan picked up his phone and scanned his contacts.

  “No. Everything is still there—even my journal. I suppose he read it and put it back.”

  “Did you leave the safe open by chance?” Ethan asked the logical question.

  “No. Never.”

  “Well then, the bastard will be Raquel and Heathcliff’s problem. He’s part of the European Dominion and my sister is back in charge over there,” Ethan said in a clipped tone as he texted his sister.

  Ethan was one of the ten ruling Vampyre siblings in the world. He was fair and good, but no one wanted to mess with him. He was as deadly as they came and didn’t ever suffer fools. Ethan was a true champion of our kind. The only thing he loved more than his people was his mate Astrid and his miracle son Samuel.

  Edward was in for a world of hurt from Raquel and Heathcliff. Not only was Raquel a badass leader, she was my friend. And forget about her mate, Heathcliff. He was like a brother to me.

  “Done,” Ethan said, tossing his phone to his desk. “He’ll be leaving tonight.”

  “Not sure he’s in any kind of state to travel,” I said diplomatically. “I went kind of Rambo on him.”

  “Well deserved,” Ethan replied with a shrug. “I want him off my property and out of the North American Dominion. He’ll be flown on a jet and dumped at the airport in London.”

  “Thank you, sire.” I bowed my head in respect and counted my blessings that I was an Elite Guard for such a wonderful man.

  “Are we done with this?” Ethan asked, closing his eyes and clearly communicating with someone in the compound.

  “We are,” I said. “Do you need me for anything else?”

  “As a matter of fact, I do. Please stay, Venus.”

  It was almost midnight and my lids were heavy, but if the Prince wanted someone to stay—the Vamp stayed.

  At least now I could postpone my dreams.

  Chapter Four

  “Come again?” I asked, closing my eyes and wishing today would just end.

  “I’d be delighted. All you have to do is ask, love,” Gareth replied with a grin that made me want to smack it off of his face.

  The Vampyre Ethan had been communicating with was none other than the very one I wanted to avoid. Awesome.

  “Enough,” Ethan reprimanded, shifting his focus from chastising his brother back to the paperwork on his desk. “If you have nothing to add other than offensive sexual innuendos, you may leave.”

  “Someone has his panties in a wad this evening,” Gareth muttered with a chuckle as he sat back in the leather chair and made the international zip the lip motion.

  “And someone is his usual douchenozzle self,” Astrid added with a raised brow to Gareth as she made herself comfortable on the couch.

  “Touché,” Gareth said.

  Ignoring the Vampyre in the chair who was burning holes in the ass of my pants with his lecherous eyes, I got back to the matter at hand. I was tired and hungry—never a good combination.

  “There’s a Vampyre television network?” I asked, sure I’d heard E
than incorrectly. “How do I not know about this?”

  “Do you watch TV?” Astrid asked.

  “Um… not much.”

  “Bingo,” she said. “I, on the other hand do. And the Vamp Network is one totally fucked up shitshow—except for the fact they show reruns of True Blood. I freakin’ love that show. Anyhoo, I’m not a bit surprised Vlad is addicted to the channel. It’s violent, weird and creepy. Very much like him.”

  “They have wonderful porn,” Gareth chimed in to no one’s great surprise.

  “Define fucked up,” I said, blocking Gareth out and doing my best not to pull a knife from my boot and plant it in the middle of his forehead.

  “Well, as Gareth so helpfully pointed out, there’s porn,” Astrid confirmed with an eye roll. “Also news, weather, undead style shows, and freakin’ cooking shows, which I call total bullshit on since we can’t eat.”

  “Vlad is addicted to cooking shows?” I asked, getting more confused as to why this had any baring on finding the bastard who needed a silver stake plunged into his undead heart.

  “No.” Ethan ran his hands through his hair and then pressed the bridge of his nose. “He’s addicted to beauty pageants.”

  “And this helps us find him how?” I asked wanting to cut to the chase and get the hell out.

  As much as I adored my prince, Ethan and Astrid, I didn’t have time for useless information. Not to mention, being in the same room with Gareth wasn’t my idea of fun. We were oil and water, and he was getting on my very last nerve. All I wanted was my bed and eight hours alone.

  And after my performance earlier tonight, I didn’t think Ethan would be too pleased if I removed Gareth’s fangs.

  “He’s reportedly been seen in person at several of the televised pageants—in disguise of course. There’s a woman that looks like Juliette among the competitors and he’s become obsessed with her,” Ethan informed me with very little emotion.

  “Isn’t Juliette still here in solitary confinement?” Gareth questioned with even less feeling than his brother. There was very little love or concern for Juliette from her family at this point.

  Ethan nodded curtly and Gareth relaxed.

  Astrid shuddered with disgust. “She’s locked down so tight, no one can get to her.”

  Juliette was Ethan and Gareth’s sister and in the strangest twist of fate, she was Astrid’s sister as well. Ethan and Juliette shared the same father but different mothers. Astrid and Juliette shared the same mother but had different fathers. There had been a massive freak out on Astrid’s part until she realized she and Ethan were in no way related by blood. That wrinkle still took me by surprise… and really, very little surprised me anymore.

  Juliette was the one who turned Astrid and then tried to kill her, along with just about every other family member she had. She was the only royal sibling without a ruling territory. She was a dangerous rogue. To make matters uglier—if that were possible—she’d teamed up with Vlad. Juliette was his lover, as well as partner in many horrific and deadly crimes against our race. What she wanted above everything else was power. Redemption for Juliette was no longer an option.

  I wondered why she was still being kept alive, but that was none of my business. Vampyre punishment held little to no compassion. It was normally swift, vicious, and over quickly. We were a violent race. Brutality was something that we all understood.

  Astrid coming into our world as the Chosen One had changed our modus operandi, much to the displeasure of the Old Guard, but she was a force to be reckoned with and had more power in her pinky that the entire Old Guard combined. Astrid’s compulsion for compassion made her far more powerful than the evil bastards.

  “Is Vlad daft?” I asked, doubtful of the intel. “He’s being hunted by every known Vampyre in the world and he’s attending beauty pageants?”

  “Love—or rather obsession—can make a man do strange things,” Ethan replied with a shrug. “If the data is correct, he’s given us an opening and we’re going to take it.”

  “Where did the information come from?” Gareth asked, no longer the snarky, obnoxious man chuckling on the couch.

  He was now in full badass Vampyre mode and it was as frightening as it was hot. The muscles in his jaw worked rapidly and fists clenched in anger at his sides. His jet-black hair was laced with grey at the temples—unheard of for a Vampyre since we stopped aging at thirty, but Gareth had been cursed by Vlad and was slowly dying. However, the stupid grey in his hair made him even more appealing. At this point, Vlad was the missing key needed to save him.

  Three of the other eleven royal siblings had been cursed as well and were faring about the same as Gareth. Lelia, Alexander and Nathan were on their own missions to bring down Vlad, but so far no one had been successful.

  “Roberto,” Ethan said in a clipped tone. “The Angel wants Vlad as badly as we do.”

  “Yet the Angel gave us this information?” Gareth demanded with a raised brow.

  “He wants the fucker, but doesn’t want to get his hands dirty,” Astrid said. “It’s tidier if we get him.”

  “I have no problem with that,” Gareth snapped. “Well, I do have a slight concern. If I see him, I’ll kill him.”

  “His ashes will do us no good at all,” Ethan reminded his brother. “We need him alive to break the curse. As much as I want to beat the hell out of you on a daily basis, your death is unacceptable to me.”

  “Compliments will get you nowhere,” Gareth quipped with a hollow laugh.

  “Alive not dead. A dead Vlad cannot break the curse,” Ethan repeated.

  “If he can break it,” Gareth said, pacing the large office like a caged tiger.

  “Roberto reports he’s boiled it down to three Angels who might have betrayed him and worked with Vlad. He’ll find the Angel and we’ll find Vlad. Alive,” Ethan said in a tone that brooked very little need for a response.

  “May I speak?” I asked.

  “Please do,” Ethan said, motioning for Astrid to come to him.

  Their need and respect for each other humbled me. It made me long for the same, but I knew it wasn’t in the cards for me. I was too set in my ways. If I hadn’t come across my True Mate in over two hundred years on this earth, there was very little chance I would do so now.

  “Bringing Vlad in alive is more than likely impossible. His power alone makes trapping and holding him inconceivable,” I said.

  “While you might be correct, I have a plan,” Ethan said with a grin on his face that made my own grin pull at my lips. My Prince was brilliant, deadly, and never liked to lose.

  “God, that’s so hot when you get all Vampyre-y,” Astrid said as she laid a big wet one on him.

  “With all due respect,” Gareth cut in with an eye roll and groan. “I’d rather not witness any royal foreplay at the moment. I have no real clue how much time I have left. If you have a plan, spit it out.”

  “Party pooper,” Astrid mumbled.

  “Under other circumstances, I’d take you out for a comment like that.” Ethan glanced sharply at his brother. “But in this case I agree.”

  “Plan?” Gareth snapped.

  “Venus will be punished for defanging a guest in our Domain. She will be put in solitary,” Ethan explained, pulling up a document on his computer.

  Wait. What?

  “You removed his fangs?” Gareth asked with delight.

  “Yes. You’ve read the Twilight series?” I shot back momentarily forgetting what Ethan had just decreed.

  “Yes. Very interesting books,” Gareth replied unapologetically with a wide grin. “Quite sparkly.”

  “I loved those books,” Astrid chimed in with a clap of her hands. “And Venus didn’t just remove his fangs. He’s completely toothless and flying home as we speak with one arm, one leg and a nose residing in his hairline.”

  “Very intriguing,” Gareth said, winking at me.

  I closed my eyes and shook my head. My instincts were to laugh, but then I’d be giving the imbecile p
ermission to butt into my life again. I could clean up my own messes without any help from a Vamp who wanted to get in my pants—again. I had enough problems already without adding Gareth back to the list.

  “And your reasoning for putting me in solitary?” I asked Ethan, willing to go, but needing to know why.

  “You’ll be caged next to Juliette,” he replied evenly. “She doesn’t know you. You’ll be on death row—so to speak. You’ll have nothing to lose—feel free to trash talk all of us. She’ll hear this and hopefully you can get information on Vlad. Anything will do at this point. She’s stopped talking to the interrogators and my gut says she has useful knowledge.”

  “No,” Gareth hissed.

  Ethan’s fangs dropped and his eyes blazed green. “I’m sorry. What?”

  “I said no,”’ Gareth shot back, his own fangs dropping and his eyes going from crystal blue to menacing green. “Venus will have no part of this.”

  The power dancing around the room was suffocating. The two brothers went toe-to-toe and for a moment I forgot Gareth was dying. His anger was terrifying.

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Astrid squealed, jumping between the two men. “While undead testosterone is all kinds of smexy, you boys are being ridiculous. No one here wants me to get involved because there’s a fine chance we’ll lose a good portion of the compound. I’m quite good at ending violence, but I’m also wildly fucking adept at blowing out walls. SIT!” she yelled at the vibrating Vampyres.

  Turning away in fury, Ethan went back behind his desk and punched a hole in it. “This is my territory. I am the undisputed leader here. Venus is my top general—deadlier than anyone else in my Dominion. I’m trying to save your goddamned life. Explain yourself now, or I’ll put you out of my misery and call it a day,” Ethan roared.

  “I need to speak with you alone,” Gareth ground out through clenched teeth to his equally fuming brother.

  “Oh my hell,” Astrid griped as Ethan nodded his head at his mate and me, clearly indicating that we should leave. “I call no motherhumpin’ fair.”