Fashionably Dead Down Under (11 page)

“Did he tell you that?” Grandpa asked,
totally offended.

“No, I just kind of assumed.”

“Never assume, dear, that makes an ass out of
you and me.”

He was definitely my grandpa.

“Anyhoo, the Sword thing is a secret. That’s
not information we want getting out,” he replied. “In the wrong
hands that could be a real problem.”

“Right.” Why couldn’t I have a normal family?
“All of that sounds awful.”

“Oh yes,” he agreed, “but if you think that’s
bad, there’s something even worse.” He took a dramatic pause and
pressed what used to be my sandwich to his chest. “The Sword of
Death is missing.”

Without asking, I somehow knew that was part
of the reason I was here. “Do we have any idea who might have
it?”

“We have an educated guess.” He flattened the
PB&J into a pancake. What in the Hell was he doing? His
sandwich etiquette was gross.

“Shall I guess?” I asked. He tilted his head
and watched me. “My guess,” I inhaled deeply, “is that it’s a Demon
and that I’m here to find the fucking Sword because I can off
people and apparently you can’t.”

“Correct,” he smiled ruefully. “You are
correct, but enough about depressing things—let’s get back to your
history lesson.”

I didn’t stop him. I knew this was all
connected. I just didn’t know how, and if Grandpa was as vague as
the rest of the immortals in my life, he was only going to tell me
part of it. I would have to figure the rest out for myself. Cryptic
Demons sucked.

“So, where was I?” he inquired, carefully
tearing his PB&J pancake into four equal squares.

“Broken hearts, Sword of Death missing, have
to want to die, sandwich stealing...”

His mouth quirked with humor. “Yes, yes, of
course.” He petted his flattened sandwich pieces with affection,
“there are only seven acknowledged True Immortals right now, but
more exist.”

“Is that important?” I tried to figure out
the significance, but I couldn’t.

“Oh, yes,” he chuckled. I waited for more,
but none was forthcoming.

“Grandpa.” It felt odd, but nice to say the
word grandpa. “I’m assuming there is a reason you’re telling me all
this...”

“Of course, darling.”

We sat in silence while I waited for him to
continue. It was clear I was going to be waiting a long time. I
wiped the frown off my face. A change of tactic was in order...

“Alrighty then,” I clapped my hands like a
kindergarten teacher and slapped on a big smile. You get more bees
with honey, right? “I’m guessing you’re a True Immortal and that
Satan and his brother God are too.”

“Yes Astrid, that’s accurate.”

“I think Cousin Jesus must be one,” I added,
trying to hold back my smirk. Saying cousin and Jesus in the same
sentence just seemed wrong.

“No,” Grandpa cut me off. “Jesus is an
immortal, but not a True Immortal. He is the only being in the
universe that embodies flawless purity and goodness. He is beyond
reproach and would never be touched, but he is not a True
Immortal.”

“Do you know him?”

“Of course, I spend a good amount of time in
Heaven. That’s how I know your Nana.”

“I thought Demons weren’t allowed in
Heaven.”

“Ah yes, but I’m also a Sprite which is
genetically close to an Angel.”

I didn’t want to touch that.

“Wow, neat.” I was stuck. Who in the Hell
were the other True Immortals?

“God begat two Angels, The Angel of Death and
the Angel of Light. They are True Immortals. Your Grandmother is
also one.”

“Does she like to be called Grandma?”

“Oh hellfires, no. She’s a colossal bitch.”
Grandpa gave me a sly grin.

“You like her!” I accused, laughing.

“No,” he insisted. “I don’t like her at all.
She’s very difficult,” he smirked. “But I do love her.”

“Is she your true love?” I asked quietly,
thinking about Ethan.

Grandpa stared at his snack. “Yes, Astrid,
she is...but that doesn’t mean I can live with her. I’d kill her .
. . Dixie’s mother is a True Immortal.”

“Her mother is alive? Does Dixie know her? I
haven’t heard her talk about her.”

“Oh no, Dixie knows nothing about her.”

“But she’s alive?”

“As far as I know, my sweet. I’m sure I would
have heard if she bit the big one. Although if you ask me, she may
as well be dead considering how she’s neglected her duties and the
mess she’s made.” He finally took a large bite out of the PB&J
and closed his eyes in ecstasy. “Why does food taste so much better
when someone else makes it?”

“I have no idea, Grandpa, but we need to back
up a little bit.” He was excellent at avoidance, but he was not
avoiding this.

“Fine, darling, what can I help you with?” He
finished off the sandwich and made another.

“Do you have a good reason for showing up and
scaring the Hell out of me?”

“Oh yes.” He took my hands and stroked them
lovingly. “I was testing your abilities. You need to be ready. I’m
so worried for you and so is your nana.” He let go of my hands and
took another huge bite of his sandwich.

“Am I?” I asked, holding my breath.

“Are you what?” he replied with a mouth full
of PB&J.

“Am I ready?” I huffed in exasperation.

“Oh, For the Love of Everything Repulsive,
No,” he laughed.

I deflated like a balloon and dropped onto a
kitchen chair. My head fell to my hands and I gave into the impulse
that had been clawing at me since I arrived in Hell. I cried.

“Oh, my baby.” Grandpa smoothed his little
hand over my hair.

“I’m okay,” I said, wiping my tears.

He giggled with relief and squeezed himself.
Holy Hell, he’d better not do that. I wasn’t sure I could curb my
hugging impulses if he was going to rub my face in it by loving on
himself.

“I’m not going to be of much help,” I told
him. “I can’t use my Vampyre powers down here.”

“Of course you can,” he corrected me.

“Um, nope. They’re gone.”

“You must accept your Demon powers and you
will find your Vampyre powers have been with you the whole
time.”

“What do you mean? Accept my Demon powers . .
. ”

“It’s more mind over matter,” he explained.
“You don’t need to have control of your Demonic power, you simply
need to accept and embrace your Demon heritage.”

“You want me to accept evil?”

“No. I want you to accept that there is a
balance—a Balance of Chaos, if you will. We are all good and all
evil.”

His answer was simple, but I knew by now
nothing was simple and nothing came without consequences.

“I saw no good in my father or my
mother.”

“At one time your father was very good. Time
and choices made him dark and quite honestly unredeemable.”

“Why did he look like he did? Do you look
like that too?”

Grandpa was silent for a long moment and if
I’m not mistaken a flicker of sadness crossed his face. “That was
choice, not necessity. You father chose his physical appearance and
after a while he was stuck with it. The outside often ends up being
a manifestation of what lies within.”

“How do you control what you become?” I
asked, wondering what had really happened to my father.

“That, my beautiful child, is a question we
all wrestle with for our entire lives. And some of us have very
long lives with which to wrestle.”

“So if I accept this, I become one crazily
powerful mistake of nature?” I asked, unable to imagine what I
might be able to do.

“That’s one way of looking at it,” he said
thoughtfully. “Or you become the arbiter between Heaven and Hell.
The voice of reason between those who can’t—or refuse to
acknowledge or even see the other side.”

“You do realize I’m basically a Prada whore
with a mouth like a sailor who teaches art to genitalia loving
senior citizens . . . ”

Grandpa’s laugh made me want to tackle him
and love on him for hours. “You are the Chosen One of Vampyre lore.
You have proven yourself to be loyal with a moral strength that is
beyond compare. You are very special indeed.”

“I have more than myself to think about,” I
murmured, unconsciously touching my stomach.

“Then all the more reason to make the
Universe a better place,” he said gently. “May I?” His hand
tentatively reached for my stomach and I nodded. The need for him
to touch me and to touch him back was overwhelming.

Gently running his small hands over my
stomach, his sighed in contentment. “This child will be the future.
He will be the one who will maintain the balance that you create.
Leave him his legacy, for if you don’t, you will take his purpose
from him and he will have no choice but to follow the darker part
of his heritage.”

“That sounds a bit like blackmail,” I said,
pulling away.

“Emotional blackmail,” Grandpa corrected.
“But true nonetheless. Accept your fate and the world will be
yours. However, at every turn will be a choice and only you can
make the right one.”

“Jesus Christ,” I groaned. “You sound like
fucking Mr. Miyagi from
The Karate Kid
.”

“I loved that movie!” Grandpa clapped his
little hands joyfully. “And you really shouldn’t take your cousin’s
name in vain.”

I rolled my eyes and tried not to laugh. I
failed.

“Think about what I have said, Astrid. I am
so happy to be able to reveal myself to you. I have waited many
years for you.”

“Little overwhelming, Gramps. You’re making
me nauseous. Now a bit more about the Sword . . . ”

He handed me a small book. “Everything you
need to know is in there. The rest you will have to discover.”

“Awesome,” I said sarcastically.

“Oh, but it is, my dear. It really is.”

With that he disappeared in a mist of black
and golden glitter. This had turned out to be the biggest
clusterfuck of a day I’d ever had and I’m counting the day I was
turned into a Vampyre. I suppose my vacation in Hell was going to
be a bit longer than originally planned. Ethan will not be
pleased.

I spent the better part of the night trying
to make sense of the little book my grandpa had given me. I was not
a big non-fiction reader. Give me a romance and I’m a happy girl,
but this crap . . . I was having a hard time understanding even the
smallest details. It was as if it had been written in
code—overwritten, flowery purple prose everywhere.

“Okay, the Sword of Death,” I said, talking
to no one since my babies still hadn’t shown up. Luckily I had
found several passages I could comprehend. “The Sword lives in a
secret place full of temptation very close to the mouth of Hell.
That’s dumb. Why in the world don’t they put it in a neutral safe
place . . . ” Immortals had rules coming out of their asses and
many were completely antiquated.

I found out the Sword could kill any immortal
with a mere prick of the blade. Its power and magic were
unsurpassed. It had been created by the first True Immortals,
giving them an out if they so chose. It didn’t clue me in to who
the first True Immortals were, but I guessed that would be Mother
Nature and possibly Grandpa. Everyone else seemed to have been
created in one way or another by those two or their offspring.
Mother Nature, Grandpa, God, Satan, the Angel of Death, the Angel
of Light and Woman. Woman? I supposed that was Dixie’s mom, but
what a shitty name. It was interesting that even in the book her
identity was hidden. Whatever. Not my problem. Oddly, there were
three more spaces for True Immortals, but they were blank.

However, there was a caveat. I had to read
the passage six times to decode what the hell it meant. If my
deduction was correct, on the lunar eclipse, which occurred at
least twice a year, the Sword could be used to kill a True Immortal
if he or she was stabbed through the heart three times. Lovely. I’d
lay money that we were due for a lunar eclipse . . .

Who was the target? Satan? God? Grandpa?
Mother Nature? The Sword was stored near Hell, so my assumption was
Satan or Grandpa. Not good. I kind of liked Grandpa and if I was
being truthful, my uncle fascinated me too. Would destroying a True
Immortal throw this Balance of Chaos that Gramps spoke of off?
Would it bring on Armageddon? Could good and evil switch places or
cease to have meaning? Could I possibly confuse myself any more . .
.

Enough. Enough of the book for now.

I couldn’t absorb any more information if I
tried and there was no sex in it so I was getting bored. Realizing
I needed to communicate with home, I decided that would be first on
my agenda in the morning. Only one day had passed in Hell, but I
was unsure if that equated with one day on Earth. Second on my
schedule would be finding my Baby Demons. They were the key to
something. What? I didn’t know, but I was learning to trust that
very little was an accident.

***

“No, there are no phones to Earth.” Greed
laughed as she bit into some kind of Danish from the platter off of
Dixie’s kitchen table. She was dressed to the nines in some kind of
sexy power suit with thigh high stiletto boots. Thankfully I was
able to hold my own in the fashion department due to the pile of
rockin’ clothes Dixie had left in my bedroom. I was still wearing
my black Converse, but they were paired with some insane Prada
black pants and a Stella McCartney fitted t-shirt. “Silly girl.
Even if there were, which there aren’t, do you really think Daddy
would let you do that?”

“Am I a prisoner here? Or a guest?”

Greed exchanged a look with her sisters,
Wrath and Envy, who’d shown up uninvited and unwanted to breakfast.
All of the gals were dressed to kill . . . hopefully not literally.
Dixie stood to the side completely ignored by her sisters.

“Would anyone like coffee?” she inquired,
changing the subject.

“Yes, be a dear and fetch me some,” Wrath
instructed her youngest sibling. “Don’t forget the sugar,” she
called after her.