Fashionably Dead Down Under (17 page)

“Well, um . . . we were wondering, you know,
since my mate, Ethan, can only, um . . . ” She was making me
nervous. What if I caused a tsunami? I’d be sick about that.

“Forgive me, son,” she muttered and made the
sigh of the cross, “I’m about to sin . . . again. Goddamnit, I
don’t have time for this. Get to the fucking point or I’ll blow up
the left side of Hell and let you explain that to my other shit of
a son who NEVER comes to visit me.”

She stomped around the room. Her little
monkeys followed her faithfully and the birds flew in a halo
formation around her head.

“I am sick and tired of nobody visiting. It’s
fucking boring in Nirvana and I need chocolate,” she yelled.

I glanced at a terrified Ethan and Grandpa.
Gigi had progressed to a kicking and screaming fit on the grassy
floor and her monkeys had gone ballistic. She was C-R-A-Z-Y and we
needed her help. Awesome.

Dashing to what used to be the kitchen I
scrounged around, and praise Cousin Jesus, I found chocolate. Gigi
was nuts and dangerous, but she didn’t seem evil like my mom.
Honestly, she needed a good kick in the pants and most definitely
some chocolate.

Her fit had escalated to a degree that was
nothing short of terrifying and the monkeys were shrieking and
fighting. The birds were no longer graceful—they were dive bombing
Grandpa and Ethan, both of whom were hiding under bushes. Enough
was enough. This shit was ending now. I was certain her tantrum was
going to bring every Demon in Hell to my doorstep and I needed to
have time stopped before that happened.

Panic settled in my throat. A True Immortal
and a Master Vampyre were hiding from her. Was I an idiot to think
I could stop her? Yes. Yes, I was. The ramifications of her fit
were a big unknown and that scared me. Could she cause some
horrific destruction on earth because she was rolling around on the
floor stringing more swear words together than even I knew? She
didn’t seem to be the kind of gal who destroyed the world on
purpose—she simply appeared to be completely out of control. I
wondered for a second if she’d ever tried hormone therapy . . .
would that even work on an immortal?

“Gigi,” I shouted in a harsh voice I pulled
out of my butt. “Stop it. NOW. Is it any wonder nobody visits you?
You’re a fucking disaster.” I heard my grandpa whimper and Ethan
groaned. That took some nerve. They were hiding . . . the
cowards.

Mother Nature sat up with a look of shock on
her face that was priceless and damned scary. Was she going to zap
me dead or listen to reason? It was anyone’s guess . . .

“Did you just call me a fucking disaster?”
she asked in a very low tone. My gut clenched and I felt a little
lightheaded.

“Yes. Yes, I did. You are acting like a two
year old and I’m worried that you’re going to blow up half of the
continental USA if you don’t get a handle on your tantrum.”

“No one has ever called me a fucking
disaster,” she shouted.

“Well, then no one that you hang with has
balls,” I shouted back.

There was a long silence where I calculated
the odds of how much longer I had to live. I slowly handed her the
chocolate, hoping she didn’t bite my hand off.

“Do you really think this is why no one
visits?” She sounded like a lost little girl for a moment, but she
was no child. She was a dangerous, slightly deranged woman with a
ton of magic. She broke off a small piece of the chocolate and
popped it in her mouth.

“Yes, I do. Would you want to visit you?” I
squatted down next to her and helped her to a sitting position. I
was sure I heard Bill squeak in fear.

“I suppose not,” she pouted. “It is a tiny
bit unnerving.”

“Exactly,” I told her as I adjusted her dress
and tucked her hair behind her ears. “You need to ease up on the
fits and maybe try some yoga or meds or something . . . ”

“Do you think that would help?”

Damn, she was pretty.

“I would think so. Do you have any friends?
Or hobbies?”

She thought hard and then shook her head
sadly. Her red curls bounced and her perfect mouth pursed. “No. No
friends or hobbies although I’ve always wanted to take up knitting
and pole dancing.”

“Well,” I stuttered, biting down hard on my
lip so I wouldn’t laugh. “You should try that. You might even make
some friends if you take a pole dancing class.”

“I think I will.” She laughed and her monkeys
clapped wildly. She tossed them the rest of the chocolate and they
munched happily. The birds again created a halo around her head. “I
like you, Astrid. You will be my new friend. Of course you are my
granddaughter, but more importantly, you will visit me in Nirvana
or I’ll come to Kentucky. We will shop and go to movies and I will
babysit your child once it’s born and we will go to spas and
wrestling matches. What do you think?”

She waited anxiously for my reply. Most of it
sounded good except for her babysitting and the wrestling matches .
. . “Yep, I’m in.” I heard Ethan gasp and I grinned. “But I have a
problem.”

“Oh dear, are you premenstrual and want to
kill people or drown a city?” she asked with great sincerity.

“Um, no. I was wondering if you would stop
time on Earth while I . . . ”

“Done,” she said.

“Don’t you want to know why?” I asked.

“I already know,” she trilled and took my
face in her hands. “But I only bestow gifts on those who are
worthy. You, my child, are worthy. Time will resume when the
mission impossible has been accomplished. Ohhhhhhhhhh, I love that
movie. Don’t you? Tom Cruise is such a cutie.”

Grandpa harrumphed from under his bush and
Gigi giggled.

“Anyhoo, I’m horny and I want the Sword of
Death tucked away in the Den of Iniquity where it belongs. I’m so
not in the mood to be killed when you’ve given me a new lease on
life, Astrid.”

Deciding to ignore the horny part I touched
on the storage of the Sword instead. “Why on earth would the Sword
be kept in The Den of Iniquity? Seems a little dicey to me,” I
said, surprised the True Immortals would be fine with that.

“On no, dear, it’s perfect. Trust me.”

Clearly it wasn’t perfect if someone had
taken it, but I didn’t want to kill her happy buzz.

“Bill, you’ll be coming home with me,” she
cooed to Grandpa. “I have an itch that needs to be scratched for
about a week or so.”

“My pleasure.” Grandpa grinned like a teenage
boy about to score big and moved quickly to her side.

“Astrid darling, we’ll be in touch. I’m going
to get us signed up for pole dancing classes!”

“Great,” I said, pulling Ethan out from under
the bush. “This is my mate, Ethan.”

“Ohhhhhh, he’s dreamy. Take care of her or
I’ll smite you.” She smiled sweetly, blew me a kiss and in a burst
of rose and turquoise colored glitter she and Grandpa
disappeared.

“If I hadn’t witnessed that, I would never
have believed it,” Ethan muttered.

“Um, me neither.” I giggled and dropped to
the couch. WTH? The house had been totally returned to a house.
Aside from a few gorgeous plants that had appeared in shimmering
pots, you’d never know we been in a forest only moments ago.

“What’s next?”

“I’m not sure. I suppose I should have a chat
with Uncle Fucking Satan.”

“I have been called many things, but that one
is new to me,” Satan said, standing in the doorway. “I’m not quite
sure I like that.”

“Oh my God,” I shouted. “Have you ever heard
of knocking?”

“Now where would the fun in that be?
Introduce me to your Vampyre.”

“Ethan, Satan. Satan, Ethan,” I said
warily.

“Lovely to meet you, Ethan. Why don’t we all
have a seat and have a little get to know you time?”

I had a feeling this would either be a
clusterfuck or a clusterfuck . . .

I sat on the couch witnessing the surreal
exchange of pleasantries between the King of the Underworld and the
strongest Vampyre alive who also happened to be a Prince. The
simple truth that one was my uncle and one was my mate was bizarre.
Of course the other fact was that even though they were older than
dirt, they both looked around thirty. Ahhhh, the life of an
immortal.

“I’d like to offer my most sincere apologies
for your treatment thus far,” Satan said, clearly disturbed that he
was unaware of the situation.

Mind you, the torture didn’t seem to bother
him as much as the fact he didn’t know about it . . . Getting used
to this side of the family was going to be a challenge.

Ethan simply nodded and watched my uncle
carefully.

“Strong silent type,” Satan mused, examining
Ethan just as closely.

The beauty in the room was stupid. I exhaled
the breath I was holding slowly because I hadn’t realized I was
holding it. I knew for certain my attraction to my uncle was in no
way sexual, but his sheer charisma was shattering. Ethan was the
only person so far to be unaffected. Uncle Fucker didn’t like
that.

“Ethan, my boy, do you play poker?”

Ethan’s body tensed at the word boy, but he
didn’t lash out physically. No, he was far too clever for that . .
.

“Actually I do, Uncle Fucker. May I call you
Uncle Fucker?” he inquired politely. “I assume I’ll be meeting so
many members of Astrid’s family, I’d like to get the monikers
correct.”

“Satan will be fine,” my uncle answered
tersely.

“Will Dante be there?” I asked, changing the
subject. A fight was out of the question.

“Yes,” Satan sighed dramatically. “He’s an
insufferable bore, but he always shows up and it would just be rude
to turn him away.”

“I’ve heard he’s an ass,” Ethan added. “I
assume he went a bit girly when he realized his fiction was truly
fiction.”

“Yes, yes,” the Devil laughed heartily. “The
son of a bitch got his panties in quite the wad.”

“Who else will be playing?” I inquired, happy
the little powwow was going so well.

“I do believe Hemingway will be there and we
may get lucky enough to be graced by Mother Teresa.”

“Mother Teresa lives in Hell?” Ethan couldn’t
hide his shock.

“Sweet Nephew Jesus, no. None of my poker
buddies reside in Hell. They just take the bus over once a week to
have a little fun. It’s a bit stuffy at my brother’s house.”

“Interesting,” Ethan said.

“So are you in, my man?” Satan asked.

“What do you play for?” my mate asked warily.
I didn’t Vampyre-marry no dummy.

“Why, favors of course. If I win you make a
little deal with the Devil.”

“And if I win?” Ethan crossed his arms over
his chest and waited.

“You make a deal with me.”

“So technically either way it’s a deal with
the Devil . . . ” Ethan grinned, sat back and ran his hands through
his hair. “I’m in. It will be good to rub it in with Dante and to
kick your ass.”

“We shall see.” Satan grinned back. “It’s
formal attire.”

“Problem,” I said.

My Uncle snapped his fingers and boxes and
hanging bags full of clothing from the world’s finest designers
appeared before our eyes. “Problem solved. I will see you this
evening.”

With that he vanished. We sat in silence. I
pondered the thought of meeting Hemingway and Mother Teresa and I
wondered if anyone had ever beaten the Devil at poker.

“Today’s Thursday?” I asked.

“Looks that way,” Ethan muttered, letting his
head fall back on his shoulders. “Do you think he cheats?”

“Most definitely,” I said, eyeing the bags
labeled Prada.

“Angel,” he said in a voice that stopped me
and made my tummy flip. “I believe we have some unfinished
business.”

“I believe we do.” I slowly eased my shirt
over my head as his eyes went from golden to green. “Should we
adjourn to the boudoir?” I giggled as I slipped out of my pants and
panties.

“Nope. I’d like to christen the couch,
armchair and kitchen table for starters.”

His arms muscles stretched as he removed his
pants—corded and strong. He was Heaven and sin personified and he
was mine.

“Sounds like a plan,” I choked out. My body
ached with need and speech was difficult. “Do you want me to come
over there?”

“I want you to come everywhere—over and over
again.”

Oh my God, that was hot
. My knees
buckled and he was on me faster than I could blink. I moaned as he
manhandled my ass and ground me into his very happy camper.

“I want you,” he hissed in my ear. “I’m going
to fuck you until you can’t remember your name.”

“That works for me,” I gasped, grinding
against him. “Why are you knocking on the wall?”

“What?”

“You’re knocking on the wall,” I said as I
tried to pull him to the floor. “Stop. It’s weird.”

“I thought it was you.”

“Why would I be knocking on the wall?”

“We’re not by a wall.” He groaned and stared
at the ceiling. “We’re in the middle of the fucking room.

He was correct. “Then what the hell . . .
?”

“Astrid?” Dixie called from outside the front
porch door. “Are you in there? I just got out of therapy and Daddy
told me you were back here.”

“Shitshitshit, who did I screw over to
deserve this? I’m gonna have blue balls,” I snapped, grabbing my
clothes and yanking them on. Pre-orgasm. Again.

“Who is that?” Ethan ground out, clearly
suffering from a very real bout of blue balls.

“My cousin, Dixie. She’s the one I like. Can
you wait a little longer?” I asked, half hoping he’d say no . .
.

“Can you?”

I nodded my head even though I wanted to cry
in frustration.
Was this like that tantric sex shit I read
about? If it was, it sucked
.

“It’s against every instinct that I have, but
I’ll wait. However, when I have you later, it won’t be pretty,
gentle or nice.

I shuddered and almost tripped over my pants.
“Promise?”