Fashionably Dead Down Under (24 page)

“Yes, well, I am rather proud. She won’t be
annoying you for a while.” He poured an obscene amount of syrup on
his pancakes and dug in as if all was peachy keen in the world.

Playing with the linen napkin, I did have to
agree it was rather brilliant and the petty part of me enjoyed that
she heard how good I actually was—Ethan had been very vocal during
. . . Wait. This was fucked. Yesterday I put fifty Demons with
questionable pasts out of their misery and then caused a tornado in
a poker room right after Mister Rogers may or may not have cheated
during a round. Like that wasn’t enough . . . my evening of
screaming sexual gymnastics with my mate ended up being a
punishment for the slut who pushed me to the Basement of Hell. I.
Needed. To. Go. Home. Now.

“So, Vampyre,” Satan cooed
condescendingly.

“Yes, Uncle Fucker?” Ethan replied with a
smirk his face.

Satan winced and pressed his palms to his
temples as I slapped my hand over my mouth to hold back the burst
of laughter that threatened to escape.

“Point taken,” Satan muttered, shaking his
head. “
Ethan
, you do realize your time is limited down
here.”

“
Satan
, with all due respect, you’re
wrong.” Ethan picked up a cup of coffee and took a sip. Damnit, he
was old enough to drink stuff other than blood. I was insanely
jealous. I dipped my finger in the syrup and touched it to my
tongue. Oh hell no, it tasted like butt. My gag caused both sets of
golden eyes to land on me.

“Sorry,” I mumbled and shoved my hands under
my thighs.

“Anyhoo,” Satan continued, ignoring Ethan’s
statement, “I’m quite sure I’m right, so you two will be under a
bit of a time constraint to accomplish this little mission I have
for you.”

“You’re wrong,” I said.

He blew out an exasperated sigh and shook his
head sadly at us. “I don’t know where you’re getting your
information from but I can . . . ”

“Your mother.”

Satan paled considerably and his eyes darted
around the room in fear. “What are you talking about?” he whispered
wildly. “Is she here?”

“Nope, she’s doing Grandpa in Nirvana for a
week or so.”

“I’m sorry, what?” While my uncle’s color had
come back his voice was still barely audible.

“Grandma, who prefers Gigi, is doing the
nasty with Grandpa this week. She stopped by the other day and we
had a little chat.” I grinned at his discomfort.

“You’re alive?”

“Yep, even after I suggested she look into
some meds.” I ignored his look of shock and folded my napkin into a
swan with droopy wings. I had never been good at napkin
animals.

Satan was speechless. I was fairly sure this
was a first for him and I had to admit I enjoyed it. He focused on
his fruit and chewed as he thought. It was his turn so I
waited.

“Did you talk to her?” he asked Ethan.

“Only at the end. She threatened to smite
me.” He shuddered at the memory.

Satan sighed in relief. “She threatens me
with that all the time.”

I blew out a frustrated sigh and slapped my
hands down on the table. “Look, I’m tired of the bullshit and I
want to go home. Gigi stopped time on Earth for me and there is no
chance of Ethan dying. You, on the other hand, are in deep doodoo.
Your mother is lonely and pissed. It would behoove you to visit her
once in a while. You might curb her deadly tantrums if you showed a
little respect or at the very least kissed her ass on a monthly
basis. I’d recommend you get your pansy ass over to Nirvana.
However, I wouldn’t go this week because like I said, I believe she
and Gramps are going to be busy.”

“Did you just call me a pansy ass and use the
term doodoo?” Satan inquired looking flabbergasted.

I thought for a moment about lying, but
decided that wouldn’t really work. “Yes, I did.”

“Would you promise to call God a pansy ass
when he comes for lunch at the end of the week?”

“Will that help my case?” I asked.

“Yes, it would,” he answered with a huge
smile pulling at his lips. “It would make me very happy
indeed.”

Grinning, I shook my head. I was dealing with
two year olds who could destroy the world. Who fucking knew? “Fine.
I’ll call God a pansy ass. Now I want to go home. Today.”

“No can do, pretty one,” Satan said, digging
back into his pancakes with gusto. Clearly my agreeing to call his
brother a pansy ass brought his appetite back.

“Should I call Gigi?” I asked politely.

“No,” both Satan and Ethan yelled at the same
time.

I shot the evil eye at my mate. I’d been
bluffing and he was screwing me up.

“Sorry,” he muttered and went back to his
coffee.

“Listen, Uncle,” I said with saccharine
sweetness. “I’m pregnant and you’re eating pancakes. This does not
work for me. I would like to tear your head off right now, so start
talking or I’m calling my grandma.”

To say the Devil looked taken aback would be
an understatement. “Fine. You win . . . this round. I have a little
problem. The Sword of Death has gone missing and I need it
back.”

“Yes, and?” I said, knowing where we were
going.

“I can’t actually kill anyone to get it back
and I need someone who can to find it and destroy the traitor who
took it,” he stated logically as if I’d understand and agree.

“So basically you want an assassin to go do
your dirty work when you all were dumb enough to leave the damn
thing in the Den of Iniquity.”

“Yes, that sounds about right,” he agreed,
speared a piece of pineapple and ate it. It was good he was eating
pineapple. I was allergic to pineapple. If he’d eaten bacon I would
have used a little magic voodoo and sewn his lips shut. Glancing
around the table I realized there was no bacon or sausage or eggs
in sight. He was a lucky man.

“That is a tempting offer, but I’ll have to
pass. I’m not a hired killer and neither is my mate.”

“I beg to differ. You killed fifty Demons
yesterday and seem quite fine today,” he said, watching me with
curiosity.

Looking down at my hands, I wanted to cry.
Ethan tensed beside me and the room filled with his heavy-duty
magic. I squeezed his hand to let him know I could handle it. There
was no getting around the fact that I had created the magic that
destroyed those men . . . I looked my uncle in the eye and let my
tears fall without shame. “That was not for money. That was for
honor.”

“Yes, I believe it was.” Satan nodded and
stood. Pacing back and forth he ran his hands through his hair.

“
Ethan, I want to go
.”

“
Listen to what he has to say. I have a
feeling it’s far more complicated that just finding a sword
,”
Ethan answered.

“
Nothing down here is what it
seems
.”

“
As is with most of life.
” He gave me
a brief smile and took my hand in his.

“Are you two done?” Satan demanded
impatiently.

“For the moment,” Ethan said smoothly.

“There’s a balance. Good and evil. The lines
are constantly crossed and blurred. The Sword was created to
destroy what can no longer distinguish the difference,” Satan
said.

“Its purpose is to kill a True Immortal?” I
asked.

“True Immortal?” Ethan asked.

“There are seven True Immortals; myself, the
pansy ass God, Mother Nature, The Angels of Light and Death, my
father and the Woman. We cannot be killed by conventional means. We
can either choose death and then use the Sword, or the Sword of
Death can be plunged through our hearts three times and we would
cease to be.”

“I would assume that would be a difficult
feat,” Ethan surmised.

“Yes,” Satan agreed, “but not
impossible.”

“Grandpa said there are three empty spaces,”
I lied, not wanted to reveal that I’d read that fact in the book.
“Do those True Immortals exist yet?”

Satan gave me an odd stare for a moment and
then shrugged. “Possibly, but I’m not quite sure. No one is. It is
something we are all trying to discover. The worry is that the new
Immortals could tip the balance.”

“And that would be bad.”

“Very.” Satan’s pacing stopped and his hand
went back to his hair. “Losing any one of the True Immortals would
upset the balance. Those ramifications would not just be felt in
Heaven and Hell . . . they would decimate your world as you know
it. This is far bigger than a missing Sword.”

“Why in the hell are we the only ones looking
for it?” I was shocked. I would think everyone would be freaking
out . . . not eating pancakes and making lunch dates.

“No one else knows yet,” he said and sat back
down.

“Your mother and father know,” I told
him.

“Yes.” He nodded wearily. “But God and the
Angels don’t.”

“What about the Woman?”

He stared at the ceiling lost in thought for
a moment and then rejoined us. “No one knows where she is.”

Now there was a story I was sure I wouldn’t
be privy to. “How do you know one of them didn’t take it?”

“Because every time it’s gone missing, it’s
some idiot in Hell trying to overthrow me.” He heaved a put upon
sigh. “As much as I love deception and liars, it does get
exhausting.”

I rolled my head and tried to piece together
what he had said and I realized it was a whole bunch of nothing.
“Do you have any leads? I don’t even know the territory here. How
do you expect us to find the damn thing?”

“I know it’s in Hell. I can feel it and I am
sure that someone very close to me is the culprit.”

A chill tickled my spine and I hated Hell
just a little more than I did seconds ago. He was asking me to
destroy a Demon close to him or, God
the pansy ass
forbid, a
family member.

“No,” I said. “I won’t kill anyone that’s not
trying to kill me or Ethan or . . . ” Shit. My reasoning didn’t
hold up. I
would kill
someone trying to kill Dixie, Grandpa,
Gigi, and even the Devil himself. Was it the pregnancy hormones or
was I losing it?

“It has very little to do with an individual
life, Astrid. It has to do with the delicate balance of good and
evil. Without it, none of us exist.”

“So if we don’t get it back, the world will
end,” I rolled my eyes and in frustration picked up my napkin
again. I’d try for a simple fan this time.

“I’m disappointed at your simplistic
thinking,” he tsked. “Of course the world wouldn’t blow up and be
over. It’s far more insidious than that. It would slowly morph into
a place so filled with confusion and the inability to distinguish
right and wrong, it would implode upon itself eventually. Most
likely during the lifetime of your son.”

That gave both Ethan and I huge pause, but
how was I to be sure my uncle wasn’t lying? “I would think all that
debauchery would make you happy,” I snapped.

“Then you don’t know me at all. While I might
lack in morals, I am not an evil man.”

I snorted.

“Yes.” He grinned at me. “Some may disagree
with my self-assessment, but I speak the truth . . . this time. I
am simply the keeper of those who choose the dark side. I do not
force or coerce man to do evil. He doesn’t need my help for that. I
do thrive on it and punish it, but someone has to or the balance
would be broken.”

“
He makes perfect sense
,” Ethan
said.

I shot him a surprised glance. “
You think
we should do this
?”

“
Honestly, I don’t think he’s giving us a
choice.
” He said exactly what I had started to think. “
But I
do think we cut a bargain with him. I don’t trust that he will let
us leave even if we find the Sword
.”

“If we do this, what do we get in return?” I
asked Satan, who was very aware Ethan and I could communicate
telepathically.

“What do you want?” he asked, back in his
element of wheeling and dealing.

I thought about it carefully. Wording was
important. My Uncle was a master manipulator and I was not . . .
What could I get that would be beneficial to my world and my child
in the long run that wouldn’t fuck up the balance?

“Well, I want my natural hair color back.” I
heard Ethan drop his head back and moan.

“I’m not done yet,” I hissed and elbowed him.
“We want to go home with no strings attached. You have to give us
back our weapons. You will visit your mother on a regular
basis—meaning weekly. You will delve into the minds of those Demons
that my father ruined and if they seek forgiveness, you will end
them.”

“You’re asking me to bend the rules of Hell.”
His voice was low and angry.

“No,” I countered. “I have no issue with how
you handle your sinning souls. That’s your prerogative, but the
Demons my father lied to and blackmailed . . . different
matter.”

“Their souls are not clear.”

“True,” I agreed, “but they never had a
chance. Never.”

“You drive a hard bargain, niece.” He laughed
and clapped Ethan on the back. “You are a very lucky Vampyre to
have garnered her favor.”

“I agree,” Ethan said.

“So?” I asked. “Do we have a deal?”

He took a seat next to me and I was
overwhelmed by his beauty and power. Who did I think I was to
bargain with the Devil? I was a blip in time compared to him . . .
hell, I was a blip in time compared to my mate. I should have let
Ethan negotiate. Shit.

“I shall agree with all but one point,” he
said. His proximity was intoxicating and I found myself leaning
toward him. “No weapons.”

WTF?

“You will only need your magic here. Have you
seen any weapons in Hell?” he asked.

Thinking hard, I realized I hadn’t. I would
think Hell would be armed to the teeth.

“We have no weapons here. We have no use for
them. They are made to kill. Magic can do both, but there is a
choice. Weapons leave little choice.”