Fashionably Dead and Wed Book 7

by Robyn Peterman

  “Fine, but it’s on you if Martha and Jane show up at a meeting in midriff bearing shirts and assless chaps.”

  “I need brain bleach after that visual,” Ethan muttered with a groan as he reluctantly let me go and went back behind his desk. “You say eight Demons got away?”

  I nodded and perched on the edge of his desk. “Yep. Ran north. How pissed off are the Vamps?”

  “Pissed is too mild a word,” he said, sitting back and running his hands through his thick blond hair. “They’re blaming us because of our friendship with the Devil.”

  “May I revise that statement?” I inquired.

  “Be my guest.”

  “I’m going out on a limb here and guessing they’re blaming me because the Devil is my Uncle,” I corrected my ever diplomatic mate in a voice laced with sarcasm.

  “Me has become we, my love. We’re a team and we’re not in favor at the moment,” he replied easily.

  I stared at the man I loved to the point of it being unhealthy and wished I could take the weight of the world from his broad shoulders. It wasn’t easy being mated to me. I was a True Immortal—one of ten—and I was related to everyone from Satan to Mother Nature.

  “Okay,” I said as I walked around the desk and seated myself on his lap. “I understand being upset about the Demons—hell, I’m furious about that. And I know they think our upcoming wedding is a farce. Is there anything else I should be aware of?”

  “The division of wealth you instituted is raising a few problems.”

  Leaning forward, I let my head drop to the cool wood of Ethan’s desk. I couldn’t win for losing in this new and deadly world.

  “Look, I’m the first one to admit I’m somewhat materialistic,” I said and then realized I was bouncing up and down on my mate’s lap due to his laughter. “Swallow that,” I warned. “I’m not through here yet.”

  “Will do,” he said, trying valiantly to put a neutral expression on his face.

  He failed.

  “Fine,” I huffed. “I’m a Prada whore with a shoe problem, but the amount of money the undead have amassed over the centuries is ridiculous. We don’t pay taxes because we don’t really exist on any kind of government roster and we live in this world just like everyone else—albeit a bit longer. We owe something to society. Period.”

  “I agree with you,” Ethan said, smacking out the small fire my sparking fingers accidentally set on his desk during my passionate diatribe. “However, it’s going to take our people a little time to get comfortable with this new policy.”

  “How much time?” I asked as I curled myself into a ball on his lap.

  “Time is somewhat irrelevant to us since our lifespan is so long. If I had to guess, I’d say fifty to a hundred years to get everyone on board.”

  “I call bullshit on that. What if we just held a big party and let me beat the crap out of everybody? If I win, they pay.”

  “And if you lose?” he asked with raised brows.

  “I never lose,” I shot back with a cocky grin. “So, do I get to kick some uptight ̓n greedy Vampyre ass?”

  “We’ll see,” Ethan said. “However, I can think of far better things for you to do with your time.”

  “I bet you can.” I pressed my lips to his and felt desire course through my blood.

  He deepened the kiss until my toes curled with delight and then pulled back with effort. “Gareth is due in a few minutes,” he said gruffly. His golden eyes had turned green with desire, as had mine. “As much as I’d like to continue this session and take it to its natural conclusion, we’ll have to get back to it this evening. If Gareth catches a glimpse of your naked body, I’d have to kill him. That would be unfortunate as he’s my brother. I say let’s deal with the Demons first and then tackle the rest later.”

  “Maybe we should postpone the wedding.” Speaking the words aloud depressed me. I was looking forward to it with all of my undead heart. “It seems like a risk at this point.”

  “Our sheer existence is a calculated risk, Astrid. Dealing with Demons is nothing new. Placating disgruntled Vampyres and dismembering violent ones is what I’ve done for several hundred years. I’ll be damned if I’ll let a few idiots halt our nuptials.”

  “I love when you say that,” I giggled.

  “Say what?”

  “Nuptials. It’s so formal.”

  “I’m older,” he said as he picked me up like I weighed nothing and sat me on his desk.

  “Than dirt,” I added with a laugh.

  “Yes, well some might call me a cradle robber, but I call myself the luckiest man in the world.”

  His grin made me horny and his words made me melt.

  Our age difference was astronomical, but it rarely occurred to me unless someone brought it up. Ethan had been waiting for me for hundreds of years and fought hard to make me his. We were possessive, jealous, wildly attracted to each other and would have a very hard time surviving if something happened to the other—not to mention the sex was off the charts. It was all kinds of perfect and I loved him to the point of distraction.

  “I suppose the best and most unfortunate route to go is to take a meeting with Satan.” I shook my head and shuddered. “I was hoping to avoid him for a while.”

  “I’ll deal with the pissed of Vampyres and you deal with your Uncle,” Ethan said. “We get rid of the Demons. We make the tight fisted Vampyres pay their share. And we tie the knot. Win, win, win.”

  “It’s not going to be that easy,” I said, tracing his lips with my finger.

  “Nothing worth it is.”

  His lopsided grin made me want to jump him, but I wasn’t in the mood to be responsible for Gareth’s death—I liked Ethan’s brother. Not to mention the deaths of whomever else was meeting with the Prince of the North American Dominion today. My mate was one of the most important and powerful Vampyres in the world.

  And I wasn’t too shabby myself.

  Chapter 2

  “I’m really not following how this is my fault,” Satan said as he made himself far too comfortable behind Ethan’s desk. “Where did you get this desk? It’s fabulous. I’ll have to procure one while I’m in town.”

  “You mean steal?” I asked, very aware that my dear Uncle was avoiding the main subject at hand.

  “Semantics, my darling niece. How are the wedding plans coming along?”

  I’d decided to take the meeting with my uncle in my mate’s office. I’d kicked Gareth and Ethan out and summoned the Devil. There was far less of a chance of the visiting Vampyres spotting Satan on the premises if we were locked away. Satan had seemed a bit miffed that we weren’t in the massive ballroom or at the very least, the parlor, but he was rolling with the lack of formality.

  “Fine,” I answered warily. I refused to discuss my big day with him.

  I’d inadvertently discovered Satan had planned to kidnap his hero aka stalking victim, Steve Perry of Journey fame to sing at my wedding. Since then, the subject of my nuptials was off-limits. Poor Steve Perry had been through enough. My cousins, the Seven Deadly Sins, had recently abducted Mr. Perry as a Christmas present for my uncle. That had been a clusterfuck, well, except for the fact that Steve was now one of my closest friends. He did not deserve to be taken hostage by lunatics twice in the span of a single year.

  “I know you’re displeased with me.” Satan pouted as he rearranged everything on Ethan’s desk. “But my feelings are hurt that you’re leaving me out.”

  “You don’t have feelings. You’re the Devil,” I muttered. I removed the Super Hero decoupage cup from his hands before he could pocket it. It was a present from Samuel for Ethan. The Devil could get his own damned pencil cup.

  “Touché,” he said with an evil little smirk and put a stapler in his pocket.

  If I were capable of sighing, the mother of all sighs would have left my lips. Dealing with the Devil was very similar to dealing with my toddler son. If I turned my back, something usually went horribly wrong.

  “The Demons
,” I said flatly, getting my flighty, sticky-fingered uncle back on track. “They’re coming through portals an alarming rate. What’s going on?”

  “How am I supposed to know?” he replied with a casual shrug. “Hell is large. Demons are crafty.”

  “You’re supposed to be in charge,” I snapped.

  “And you, my dear, are supposed to be in charge of the Vampyres. From what I hear, there are rumblings from the undead peanut gallery about your new laws.”

  He certainly had me there.

  While I pondered how to reply to that one without digging a deeper hole to bury myself in, Satan came up with a plan.

  A horrible plan.

  A horrible, crappy, shitty plan.

  “How about this?” he suggested, looking more beautifully evil than usual.

  My stomached dropped as I silently waited to hear his latest nefarious proposal.

  “Why don’t we have your wedding in Hell and I can have my people check out what’s going on with the portals?”

  “Interesting,” I replied with a barely concealed groan. “And why don’t I just hop on over to Purgatory, get the Sword of Death and chop off my own head?”

  “That’s a bit extreme,” Satan said with raised brows as he pilfered a few of Ethan’s Mont Blanc pens.

  “And having my wedding in the Underworld isn’t?” I demanded, stomping over to the scariest man alive and removing the pens and stapler from his pockets. “Vamps can’t even be in Hell for more than a day or so. I’m fairly certain Uncle God and Cousin Jesus won’t set foot in Hades anymore and I wasn’t planning on even inviting the Seven Deadly Sins. And that’s only the tip of the iceberg of reasons why that’s the shittiest idea I’ve ever heard.”

  “Is it your time of the month?” Satan asked giving me a sad face.

  “I’m a fucking Vampyre,” I shouted. Black glitter covered my arms and my fingers sparked dangerously. I was seconds away from burning a nice big hole in my uncle’s very expensive, custom Armani suit. “I don’t have a time of the month. Furthermore, a man should never ask a woman that question unless he’s ready to die violently. Only women can ask each other that appalling question.”

  “Well, you are half Demon. I just thought…”

  “Don’t think,” I hissed. “It never turns out well.”

  “Astrid, Astrid, Astrid,” he said silkily. A smile lit his eyes and turned them a glittering red. “You’re such a spicy one. It delights me to no end to see you’ve inherited some of my traits.”

  “The spicy part is from me,” a disembodied voice cut in, scaring the crap out of me and eliciting a surprisingly shrill, girly scream from the Devil.

  “Damn it, Mother. What have I told you about speaking without your body arriving first?” Satan bellowed in a far deeper voice than usual in an attempt to negate the high pitched squeal he’d just produced.

  “I do believe you threatened to smite my ass,” Mother Nature, aka my grandmother Gigi, said with a giggle. “I’d love to see you try.”

  Her arrival was grand and destructive, as was everything she did. A few flowering trees blasted up out of the hardwood floor and tore through the center of a priceless Persian rug. A colorful flock of teal and magenta birds floated around her head and a small shimmering rainbow popped up near the floor-to-ceiling bookcases. Her gown was a riot of gossamer color that matched her feathered friends. Her red hair was piled fashionably on her head framing a face that would make Angels weep. She was otherworldly beautiful. She knew it and she loved it.

  I glanced around the room and shut my eyes. Ethan was going to have a fit and I didn’t blame him. However, it was business as usual with my extended family. Either something exploded or we gained an indoor jungle. If I had to choose, I’d take the wildlife sanctuary hands down.

  “Astrid, my sweetheart,” Gigi purred, air kissing my cheeks. “I understand you’re going to get married in Hell.”

  I shot a glare at Satan which would have made anyone with a lick of sense duck for cover. He just grinned.

  “You understood wrong, Gigi,” I corrected her.

  “Well, thank goodness for that,” she huffed and gave her son a victorious raised brow. “We shall have the wedding in Nirvana. I throw a wonderful party and I have a petting zoo.”

  And the day got worse. Gigi was prone to fits that brought down cities when she didn’t get her way.

  “Actually,” I said calmly, even though my insides danced wildly. “I was thinking we would have the wedding here—at the Cressida House.”

  “But it’s so common to get married on Earth.” Mother Nature pouted as she examined the treasures on Ethan’s desk with interest. “You’re a True Immortal and Ethan’s a Prince. You simply can’t get married here. What would everyone think?”

  “Honestly, I don’t give a rat’s ass what anyone thinks,” I said as I watched her eye a tape dispenser and covertly slip it into her Chanel purse. “And who in the Hell is everyone?”

  “Oh, you know, all the Angels and Saints,” she said, pilfering a tray of paperclips.

  “The Demons, Fairies, Vampyres, Trolls, and Gnomes,” Satan added and pocketed a jewel handled letter opener not to be outdone by his mother.

  “And don’t forget about the Shifters and Unicorns,” Mother Nature reminded us as she moved on from the desk and over to the bookshelves to see if anything struck her fancy.

  “Shut the fuck up!” I shouted, while silently vowing to buy Ethan new office supplies to offset the ransacking of his office by my relatives. “No one ever told me Unicorns existed.”

  “Of course they do,” Mother Nature stated. “Very rare. Steve Perry is a Unicorn. And let me just suggest not extending an invitation to the Trolls or the Gnomes. They’re horrid guests and violent even by my standards.”

  Well, that was certainly saying something.

  “I had no intention of inviting anyone like that. I was planning on a family and close friends only wedding.”

  I sat on my hands so I didn’t zap them through the roof for helping themselves to my mate’s belongings. The silence was alarming. However, the expressions on their faces almost made me laugh.

  “Darling,” Mother Nature said, beginning to glow dangerously. “That simply won’t do. I have at least two thousand I was planning on inviting.”

  “Two thousand what?” I asked. My entire body tingled in dread.

  “People, darling,” she assured me. “Well, most of them are.”

  “I have three thousand,” Satan bragged, clearly pleased to have more friends or more hostages than his mother. “The Cressida House is far too small, puny, and inconsequential to hold the guest list.”

  “Okay, let’s get a few things straight here,” I snapped as I felt my hair begin to blow wildly around my head—never a good sign. “I am not having tens of thousands of freaks at my wedding. I have no desire to be the catalyst for the next war between the races. That would be an immortal shitshow.”

  “She does have a point,” Mother Nature said to her son.

  “I think it would be fabulous,” Satan replied.

  “You would.” I pulled on my hair and wondered how I’d gotten so lucky as to have the craziest, most powerful, nut jobs in existence for my family. “But it’s not happening. I’d considered a destination wedding, but the logistics were heinous. The wedding will be here.”

  “Suit yourself,” Mother Nature said with an angry shrug that caused a slight tremor in the room. “But you’ll be sorry.”

  With that, my unstable, pole-dancing grandmother left the building in a spray of sparkling peach and gold glitter. However, she left the trees and birds behind.

  “It’s never good to screw with Mother Nature,” Satan warned with an enormous smile on his devastatingly handsome face.

  “It’s fool Mother Nature, fool,” I corrected him, flopping down in a chair and letting my head fall to my hands. Maybe getting married was stupid. Ethan and I were already mated, which in our world was the equivalent and far more biding tha
n the human ritual.

  “Yes, well, screwing with is far more detrimental,” Satan replied as he opened the top drawer of the desk and procured a few more items.

  “What is it with you people and office supplies?” I demanded, watching him load his pockets.

  “I’m not exactly sure,” the Devil said thoughtfully. He eyed the Mont Blanc pens lovingly and re-pocketed them. “I used to be obsessed with craft supplies. And then it was home improvement paraphernalia. Now I like the occasional stapler.”

  His statement was so weird I had nothing to add. The thought of the Devil in the scrap- booking aisle of my local craft store was absurd.