A Fashionably Dead Christmas: Hot Damned Series, Book 5

by Robyn Peterman

  “You can’t give the Devil someone like Steve Perry all trussed up and totally freaked out,” I snapped.

  I eased myself off the cot and checked Steve Perry’s ropes to make sure they hadn’t cut off his circulation. All I needed to cap off my list of Christmas disasters was a dead rock star in my house.

  “And why not?” Greed asked confused. “He’s here isn’t he?”

  “Um… yes, he is. But this is totally wrong, not to mention illegal,” I said in an attempt to be reasonable.

  “And your point about that would be?” Envy asked, perplexed.

  Reasoning with the Deadly Sins was an exercise in futility. “My point is… Wait. How did you all get into the compound in the first place?” I knew it was locked down like Fort Knox.

  “We broke in, silly,” Sloth said with an eye roll and a laugh. “It was easy.”

  Fucking awesome. I was going to have a long talk with the guards later today.

  As I loosened the bindings and pulled the gag from my unwilling guest’s mouth I leaned in. “I’ll get you out of here, Steve Perry,” I promised in a whisper.

  “Thank you,” he replied in a hushed voice. “Just leave me tied up for the moment. I think it’s safer that way.”

  I winked to show him I’d heard and stood back up. He was a smart man. Being chased down by my certifiable cousins could end very badly.

  “Um… Astrid… I don’t mean to be rude,” Pride said diplomatically.

  “Of course you do,” Gluttony corrected her.

  “Oh my goodness, you’re right!” Pride said with a shrill giggle and a shrug. “So as I was saying… do you always wear a midriff sweater and men’s boxer briefs to bed? I mean I know you’re a hooker and all, I just didn’t realize you worked it at home.”

  Slowly I glanced down at my attire and I wanted to melt into the floor. My ill-mannered ho-bag of a cousin was correct. I was showing bellybutton and my cinched cloth penis was on display for all to enjoy. My fucking dress had shrunk to the point of lewd. This would follow me for centuries.

  “Actually… it’s my outfit for today’s festivities.”

  I lied through my fangs and modeled it for them. I walked a grand circle as the gals gaped at me and my cinched underpants doubtfully.

  “You know… I saw that outfit in Paris on the runway just last spring,” Steve Perry said as he gave me a covert wink. “How were you able to get it so soon? I hear it’s impossible to get your hands on that masterpiece.”

  Journey’s front man was my new best friend. “I have connections,” I explained as the Sins began to hiss and whisper amongst themselves.

  They were one enormous green-eyed monster and I was lovin’ it.

  “Was it expensive?” Wrath demanded as she shoved her sisters out of the way and fingered the material of my sweater.

  “Oh, you know. It costs what it costs. It’s Prada,” I said evenly as I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing. “Right off the model too. What do you think?”

  “Son of a bitch,” Wrath spat as she turned on her sisters. “How did we not know about this trend?”

  They argued with each other in voices that could wake the dead—and they did.

  I grinned and gave the lead singer of Journey a thumbs up sign. The morning had started bizarrely, but it was looking up.

  Rudely jerked out of slumber, my family stared in shock at the bound super star.

  “Did Santa bwing me that?” Samuel asked as he pointed at Steve Perry.

  “No. He did not. That is an ill-advised scheme of the douchecanoe Sins,” I told him. “Your presents are under the tree, baby.”

  Blobbityflonk rose and had what I would safely call an epic shit-fit. His body shook violently and his eyes rolled back in his head. The pained shriek that flew from his lips halted all the bickering in the room.

  He frantically ran to Steve Perry and began chewing through the ropes.

  I was fairly sure Steve Perry would sue if he didn’t have a heart attack first.

  “My God,” Ethan shouted as he sprinted across the room. “Is the baboon eating Steve Perry?”

  “Nooooo… don’t let him eat Steve Perry,” Satan screamed as he got tangled in his bedding and hit the floor with a resounding thud. “He’s my hero.”

  Satan’s fall sent Mother Nature flying off her cot and into the Christmas tree. Balls and tinsel flew willy-nilly. The baboon and Steve Perry got showered in red and green.

  Gigi wasn’t a welcome or pleased ornament. Her purple panty clad ass and slippered feet were all that showed as her head and upper body were lodged mid-tree.

  Her squeal of displeasure sent a minor earthquake through the room and my collection of porcelain Baby Jesuses went crashing to the floor in response.

  “Motherfucker,” I yelled as I realized no amount of glue was going to fix the fourteen Baby Jesuses I’d collected. “You idiots broke my Baby Jesuses. What the Hell kind of people are you?”

  “Blobbityflonk no eat the long hair man,” Samuel shouted above the din. “He save him!”

  I sure as shit hoped my child was right. I wanted to keep the baboon, but if he habitually ate rock stars there would be a problem.

  “Kidnapping singers, breaking my shit, and throwing grandmas into Christmas trees is not working for me,” I bellowed as the entire upper half of my body burst out in glittering flames.

  The Sins dove for cover taking the Nutcracker with an erection down violently in the process. His head rolled underfoot of the now standing Satan, who freaked and then took a dive into the thankfully unlit fireplace.

  The stockings that I’d stupidly hung with care were ripped right out of the garland. They fell onto poor Steve Perry, who was now blinded by socks and hanging on by a thread.

  Ethan approached me carefully and placed a calming hand on my smoldering shoulder. Thankfully, he was mostly immune to my magic since we were mated—although he was sure to have a nasty burn for his bravery. For his sake, I tried my best to reel in my reaction.

  “It’s okay, Astrid. Pull back your power, my love,” he said in a soothing tone.

  I met his eyes and nodded. I didn’t want Samuel’s memory of his first Christmas to be of his mother blowing up the compound.

  “You’re right,” I said.

  With great effort I let my fury go and the flames receded with it. Poor Steve Perry looked like his eyes were going to bug out. We would have to do a major memory wipe on the dude or he’d end up institutionalized.

  Okay. So I wasn’t going to burn the house down, but I also wasn’t going to stand for any more of my shit being destroyed.

  With a flick of my hand, I hung everyone in the room midair, except for Samuel, Ethan and Steve Perry. My family now dangled about eight feet off of the floor and they could float there for eternity for all I cared. No one was coming down until they agreed to play by my rules and my rules only.

  Martha grunted from the doorway as she and Jane stared in confusion at the scene. “Holy Mitch McConnell in a girdle and push up bra, what the Hell happened in here?”

  “Love your outfit,” Jane said sincerely. “I’d look good in that.”

  I nodded my head curtly, afraid of what might come out of my mouth.

  And Hell just continued to blaze…

  Between them, they carried a life sized cloth man wearing a hula skirt and a top hat. They too were wearing hula skirts and top hats. The entire picture they presented was alarming, but I ignored it. I was far too frightened to ask what the Holy Hell they had made for my son for Christmas, so I stuck to the question asked.

  “We had a few minor snafus this morning,” I said in what I hoped was a cheery voice for the benefit of my child.

  “Looks more like a grenade went off in here,” Jane said as she adjusted her hula skirt and inadvertently revealed a red and green thong. “Speaking of grenades… you might want to have Satan put out that cigarette he’s smoking. He’s defying gravity right next to it.”

  “Right next to what?�
� I asked for clarification. Surely I’d misunderstood.

  “The pile of presents we… you know, that we kind of lifted,” she told me. “There was a kind of… sort of… a grenade in… um… ” she faltered when she saw the look on my face.

  “You bought my son a grenade?” Ethan inquired in a calm and deadly tone. He was so freakin’ pissed, my hair stood up.

  “Not exactly,” Martha said.

  “No. They freaking stole it,” I tattled.

  “Which one of you stole my son a grenade?” Ethan demanded.

  “She did,” they shouted in unison as they pointed at each other.

  “It’s the damn teddy bear, isn’t it?” I ground out through clenched teeth as my body began to shoot sparks.

  “I knew we should have gotten him a subscription to Playboy,” Martha wailed as she scissor kicked her buddy, revealing her own pickled thighs and Christmas thong.

  “Astrid, stay put,” Ethan ordered as he ran swiftly to the pile of presents. “Your sparks could set it off.”

  He was right. I turned to Satan who was watching with interest as he puffed away.

  “Gigi, I need a little help here,” I called out as she followed my gaze and grinned.

  “With pleasure,” she trilled and waved her hands above her head.

  I was hoping for a bucket of water in his face, but Mother Nature never ever took half measures. The waterfall of all waterfalls rained down on my uncle as he sputtered and choked.

  One problem down… oh so many to go.

  “Got it,” Ethan yelled as he held the teddy-grenade in the air.

  A small ember from Satan’s cigarette had clearly lit it before he was doused and Ethan didn’t notice.

  “Ethan! It’s live. Throw it,” I shrieked as I dove on top of Samuel and Steve Perry.

  Blobbityflonk threw himself on top of me and I was pretty sure Martha and Jane belly flopped on top of him. If I’d had to breathe, I would have been royally screwed.

  I quickly waved my hand and released my family from their floating prison. They were sitting ducks hanging in the air. I might be pissed, but I wasn’t cruel.

  They ran for cover amidst a whole bunch of shouting and screeching.

  Ethan swore viciously and hurled the grenade at the back wall of the Great Room away from everyone. With his Vampyre strength, it shot like a bullet out of a sub-machine gun.

  Blobbityflonk heaved a huge sigh of relief that the day had been saved. However, I knew better—far better.

  I put my hands over Samuel’s ears and shut my eyes.

  And that’s when the grenade exploded, blowing the entire back wall of the Cressida house right off its foundation.

  Through the smoke and haze, I noted that it was a lovely, sunny day outside.

  Well, at least there was that.

  I let my head drop and the tears flow. This would go down in history as the worst December 25th ever. Merry Fucking Christmas.

  Chapter 8

  “Is everyone alright?” Ethan yelled as he pulled the pile off of me, Samuel and Steve Perry.

  The muffled chorus of yeses eased my panic. Everyone was accounted for. This was a horrific day for us all… but I was certain it was the worst day of Steve Perry’s life.

  Samuel was completely unharmed. I expected him to be upset, but I couldn’t have been more wrong. He was grinning from ear to ear and giggling.

  “Again, Daddy. Do it again,” he insisted as he clapped his hands gleefully.

  “No can do, little man,” Ethan said wearily as he wrapped his arms around both of us and held on tight.

  I gently extracted myself and took in the room. Silently I walked around and examined what was left of the beautiful Christmas I wanted to give my son and my family.

  My utter misery over losing my beautiful Christmas was showing on my face. No one uttered a word. Smart people…

  Nothing. Nothing was left—no presents, no tree, no decorations, no food, no blood, no Nut Cracker with a boner, no Baby Jesuses… nothing.

  And of course, that’s when everyone else started to arrive.

  In they came, each looking dazed and concerned as they took in the disaster.

  Venus, Paris Hilton and Ethan’s sister, Raquel looked around in dismay, but stayed quiet. The vibe in the room was evident to all. They hugged me and made their way over to Samuel.

  All were bearing gifts meant to be placed under the tree, but there was nothing but an electrocuted twig left of the formerly beautiful Christmas tree. Still, they placed them there.

  “Assbuckle, you want to clue me in as to what the fuck happened here?” Pam, my Guardian Angel, demanded. Her hands were on her shapely hips as she entered into the room in a breezy burst of magic. “I spent four days in what used to be this room, putting all that shit up.”

  She stood with the King—her mate and Ethan’s father. They both appeared shocked and confused. Who wouldn’t be?

  “We had a few little issues yesterday and today,” I mumbled and let my head fall back on my shoulders.

  I would not cry. I would not cry.

  “Little?” She laughed and gave me a big hug and a sloppy kiss on my cheek. “You give me a list of those issues and I’ll kick the issue’s asses. You hear me?” she asked quietly.

  “Yes, Pam. I hear you,” I said as I hugged her back.

  “PS… you forgot your pants too,” she added with a cackle.

  “It’s the new look,” I told her with a wince.

  “Lord help us all,” she muttered as she stomped across the room and placed a mountain of gifts beneath the tree.

  My more normal cousins and their father came next. Heathcliff, Cathy and Sir James entered cautiously. Heathcliff’s longing look at Raquel wasn’t lost on me, but there was no time for me to play matchmaker at the moment. I had a party to host… or what was left of one.

  “My God,” Heathcliff sputtered and gave a low whistle as he glanced around.

  “I see you did some major redecorating since yesterday. I like it,” he announced with a grin and a wink.

  I loved my cousin. A little bit of humor right now was a good thing.

  They too crossed over to the charred twig and laid their gifts beneath it.

  Hayden and Dixie showed up in a cloud of sparkling mist followed by Lucy and Elijah. Of course, Lucy and Elijah arrived separately much to Elijah’s dismay. All four of the newest arrivals were True Immortals like myself, Samuel, Satan and Mother Nature.

  Dixie’s eyes were wide as she hurried over to make sure I wasn’t going to lose my shit.

  “My beautiful cousin, you have exceeded my expectations with your… preparations for us,” she said with a grin as she grasped my hands. “You okay?”

  “Nope, but I’m still standing.”

  With a loving hug, Dixie moved away and placed her presents under the pathetic excuse of a tree.

  As the room filled with more and more people, my need to cry increased.

  Samuel ran from group to group and received kisses and hugs.

  This was a fucking tragedy. I was embarrassed and heartbroken.

  Then a small man standing in the entryway made me smile through my tears. He was roughly the size of an Oompa Loompa and could make the sun shine of even the dreariest of days.

  My Grandpa was dangerously squeezable Sprite and the cutest man alive.

  The Sins literally quivered with the need to trap him in an embrace. He had sported many broken bones over the centuries from too much loving. Being a True Immortal and able to heal in an instant, he tolerated our need to clasp him to our bosoms in a vise-like hold.

  He raised a warning hand at the Sins and they stayed put with great difficulty.

  His wise eyes were on me and moved across the room with lively little steps.

  “My darling,” Grandpa said kindly as he put his arms out for a hug.

  I fell into him and was careful not to squash one of my favorite people in the world.

  “It’s just fucking awful,” I whispered as
he lovingly stroked my hair. “It was supposed to be perfect.”

  “Perfect is boring. Flaws are what make life interesting,” he insisted as he took my face in his hands and placed a kiss on my nose.

  “Um… well then I nailed flawed in a big way,” I told him.

  “We shall see.”

  On that cryptic note, he floated across the room to his other half, Mother Nature. She squealed with delight as he copped a feel of her outstanding bottom. She showered him with hugs and kisses as the Sins looked on with envy.