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Fashionably Dead and Loving It: Hot Damned Book 14

Page 10

by Peterman , Robyn


  “Only those housed in the Cressida House. No one outside yet,” Ethan added. “And I want interviews done to ascertain none of them are involved in any way. Am I clear?”

  “You are,” Jax replied, looking every inch the scary Vampyre. “Nothing will get by us. You have my word.”

  Ethan nodded curtly and the men left.

  “You want us to head out to LA and start removing sphincters?” Martha asked.

  “What is this obsession with sphincters?” Ethan asked with a wince. “And whose sphincter are you going to remove? We have no clue who is involved right now.”

  “He makes a good fucking argument,” Jane told Martha. “It’s bad to detach an innocent person’s poop pie hole.”

  “Ain’t that the truth,” Martha agreed. “We’ll just come to the meeting with you guys. You’re gonna need us.”

  I wasn’t sure if that was true, but if they happened to remember anything else about Lizard’s mission, spending time in their profane company would be worth it.

  “Fine,” I said. “Meet us in the office in a half hour.”

  Jane grabbed the wrapped gift that there was no way I was going to open and tried to hand it to me.

  “Nope,” I said, refusing the gift. “Is there a sphincter in there?”

  “How’d ya know?” Martha asked. “Did you peek?”

  My fingers sparked and the gals backed up. Zapping them was not a good option. There was a fine chance I would cook the sphincter, and I didn’t want my suite to smell like baked ass.

  “I thought you didn’t fight with any of the reporters from last night,” I said suspiciously, wondering whose sphincter was in the box.

  “We didn’t,” Martha said. “Just happened to get a good grip on one of their puckered starfish as they ran away.”

  I had no words.

  “You saw some of the reporters?” Ethan asked, purposefully ignoring the rest of what had just been shared.

  “About five of the scum asses,” Jane confirmed.

  “Could you identify them?” he asked, pulling up an encrypted site on his computer.

  “Sure could,” Martha said.

  Ethan stood then placed two chairs in front of the screen. “Have a seat, ladies. I have a feeling your knowledge will be very helpful.”

  “FINALLY,” Jane shouted. “I’m so sick and tired of just being an unbelievably hotter-than-shit sex object. It’s about time I was admired for my brains.”

  “I wouldn’t go that far,” I choked out with a laugh. “However, if you find the reporters, I’ll get you Simon Cowell’s new cell phone number.”

  “Deal,” Martha squealed as she and Jane began the arduous task of going through the database of every Vamp in North America.

  “How many dead fuckers are on this site?” Jane asked.

  “Five thousand,” Ethan replied.

  “That’s a lot of bloodsuckers,” I commented as I snapped my fingers and repaired the damage I’d caused to the room.

  “It most certainly is,” Ethan said, grabbing a sword and taking my hand in his. “You ready to deal with the Devil?”

  “Born ready,” I replied.

  I just hoped the deal wasn’t too pricey.

  Chapter Ten

  I put all the electronics into a cabinet that had a lock. Satan was serious about office supplies. We’d had to replace ten printers and four laptops in the past three months after he’d stopped by for what we called a pilfering pop-in. Pencils, pens and staplers were fine. I was just sick and tired of having him run off with things that had intel on them that wasn’t his.

  “Is there time for a quickie?” I asked my mate, who had helped me remove everything that held confidential information.

  Ethan grinned “I wish. However, I don’t think either of us wants to get caught with our pants down today.”

  I laughed at the thought. Satan would find it amusing. Levi would be appalled. Although, I had no clue what my brother’s mood would be after I poked fun at the size of his wank last night. If his monosyllabic answer to my request to join us for a meeting was any indication, I’d say he was going to be as rude or ruder than usual.

  “Dear God, Ethan, I’ve just heard. It’s dreadful,” Wilhem said, barging into the office without knocking.

  The Prince of the South American Dominion was dressed more casually than last evening, but he was still put together—very put together. Not a hair was out of place and his pants were so pressed they could have stood on their own. All that could be dismissed, but the entering without knocking was a big fat hairy no-no. We could have been naked on top of the desk. Would have served the idiot right…

  “Heard what?” Ethan inquired, calmly sitting down behind his desk and pointing to a chair for his brother. His actions and demeanor proved he didn’t trust Wilhem. Ethan wasn’t a game player. He would have acknowledged Wilhem’s distress immediately if he believed his brother to be loyal. Well, if he didn’t trust his brother, then neither did I.

  I stood just out of Wilhelm’s peripheral, ready to move on him if he did anything suspicious.

  Wilhem glanced over at me with uncertainty then back to Ethan with a raised brow and pinched lips. His expression said it all. The asshole was unsure if I was privy to Ethan’s business. It took tremendous effort to keep my fangs from dropping. Ethan read his brother exactly the same as I had. The pompous man had just stepped on his first land mine.

  In an icy tone that made even me blanch, my mate made himself undeniably clear. “My business is Astrid’s business, and her business is mine. We are mated and work as one. I shouldn’t have to remind you, but I will. Astrid is the Chosen One and is more powerful than you and I combined. I would not suggest getting on her bad side.”

  “Is that a threat?” Wilhem asked, wildly surprised and obviously put out.

  “No,” Ethan replied flatly. “It’s the truth.”

  Wilhem had the wherewithal to look embarrassed. I was unsure if he was a good actor or truthfully sorry. It made no difference. No matter what he did now, I wasn’t going to trust him much. He was a sexist old-school dead guy.

  “Yes, yes, of course,” he said, bowing his head to me in respect. “My apologies, Astrid.”

  I nodded with no expression on my face and didn’t say a word.

  The silence went on a few minutes too long, but I wasn’t going to let the asshat off the hook. Vampyres understood power, fear and violence. I wasn’t crazy about that, but it had been a truth since the dawn of time—very little I could do to change age-old mindsets. However, I could change how we as a species dealt with the world around us.

  Or I could try.

  “There must be a reason you barged into my office without an invitation,” Ethan said, breaking the uncomfortable silence.

  Wilhem was a bit taken aback. “Didn’t realize, as your brother, an invitation was needed.”

  “Normally, no,” Ethan conceded. “Today, I have a lot going on.”

  “I should say so. Zombies? In your Dominion?” Wilhem questioned. “Unheard of.”

  “I take it you read the rags?” I asked coolly.

  “No, no, no,” Wilhem stuttered. “Catriona loves them. She clued me in last night.”

  “Why doesn’t that surprise me?” I muttered, leaning on the edge of Ethan’s desk. “And where is your mate this afternoon? Since she’s usually stuck to you like glue, I’m surprised she’s not with you.”

  “She’s walking the grounds and getting some air. And she is not my mate,” Wilhem insisted. “We’re in discussion about that point. We’re getting closer to a merger.”

  Ethan squinted at Wilhem in disbelief. “A mate is not a discussion, brother. Your other half is someone you recognize with your heart and soul. There is only one.”

  “Not all of us have been as fortunate as you have,” he shot back sharply. “The woman who I was sure was my soul mate wasn’t of the same opinion. She was volatile and unreasonable. Catriona is calm and good for me. She’s focused completely on me and
my well-being. She would make a regal Princess.”

  “Sounds incredibly hot,” I said under my breath.

  “I’m sorry, what?” Wilhem asked.

  “Nothing important,” I replied, looking down at him from my standing power play. “How can we help you?”

  Wilhem sat up straighter and turned his attention back to Ethan. “I’ve called in troops from my Dominion to help you in this distasteful matter.”

  Ethan’s eyes flashed and his fangs dropped. Leaning forward, he slammed his hands down on his desk, sending everything atop it flying. “You have overstepped your boundaries. Call off your men and women. I have my own, and I am handling the problem. Am I clear?”

  Again, Wilhem was shocked. “You have women in your army?”

  I closed my eyes and sternly reminded myself that it would be shitty to electrocute Ethan’s brother no matter how much of an asshole he happened to be.

  “Yes. We have men and women in our Elite Guard,” I answered before Ethan could dive across his desk and attack his brother. “We have a policy of hiring the best people. Gender plays no role in our decisions.”

  Wilhem’s lips thinned in pity and he shrugged. “Might be why you have Zombies.”

  The second land mine had been triggered. The man was treading on thin ice.

  “I have a hard time believing you are a son of the King. He’s such a compassionate and forward-thinking man,” I said so sweetly, it confused Wilhem. “I’d think he’d be dismayed by your sexist behavior.”

  “He would,” Ethan said, standing up and gesturing toward the door. “Call your people off. While you may be a century older, I am over five hundred years old. I have my Dominion and my people under control.”

  “Really?” Wilhem asked. “Doesn’t look like it.”

  “Enough,” Ethan hissed. “If I want your opinion, I will ask for it. I think at this point it’s best that you return to South America.”

  “Impossible. Catriona will be so disappointed,” Wilhem said, pushing to see if Ethan meant what he said.

  I walked to the door and held it open. “Not our problem.”

  Wilhem stood and nodded jerkily to his brother. “As you wish. I will let my people know they are not welcome. I called on them after we adjourned last night. I shall wait for their arrival and then accompany them back to my Dominion.”

  Ethan looked up at the ceiling for a long moment. “The moment they arrive, you will turn them around and leave.”

  Without another word, Wilhem walked from the room with his head held high. I shut the door behind him with a little more force than necessary, but it felt terrific. I was wildly proud of myself that I didn’t zap the man or remove the coiffed hair from his head. I was maturing.

  “Well, that was fun,” I said.

  “You need to redefine your definition of fun,” Ethan said, pressing his temples.

  “What about Anastasia?” I asked.

  “I’d be happy to have my sister stay as long as she wants to. However, Wilhem is no longer welcome. The last thing I need is for anyone to learn that troops from another Dominion have come to save the fucking day.”

  “They will not learn anything because I’ll be waiting for those troops. If they don’t want to leave, I’ll give them the magical push they need.”

  “You can remove that many?” Ethan asked.

  “Wait.” I was confused. “How many are we talking about?”

  Ethan shrugged. “My guess would be about five hundred to a thousand. Wilhem rarely does anything small.”

  I flopped down on a chair and let my head fall back. “Well, shit. That’s a lot of dead dudes to transport all at once. I’m going to have to get backup for that.”

  “Please tell me you are not calling who I think you’re going to call,” Ethan whispered.

  I nodded and grinned. “I am.”

  “The last time she was here, we had to have a forest removed from the Grand Ballroom complete with monkeys, lions and parrots.”

  “This is true,” I said, wincing at the memory. “But she can move thousands with a flick of her pinky finger in a hot second. It would take me a day and word could get out more easily. A jungle and a barrel of destructive monkeys is a small price to pay. Oh… and we’ll probably have to sit through a pole-dancing exhibition.”

  Ethan threw back his head and laughed. “Why not? We may as well add to the shitshow. We have the Devil showing up shortly under false pretenses. It makes horrifying sense to have Mother Nature get rid of a couple hundred unwanted Vamps for the price of watching her fall off a pole.”

  “You inherited a lot of baggage when you got hitched to me,” I pointed out.

  “As did you,” he replied, crossing the room and pulling me into his arms. “And I will happily carry your baggage until the end of time.”

  “Back at you, hot pants,” I said, pressing my lips to his and kissing the man who I would die for.

  We did have a tremendous amount of baggage between us. But we had each other and that was all that mattered.

  Chapter Eleven

  “Is it necessary to bring that to the meeting?” I asked Martha as she placed the dreaded gift-wrapped box on Ethan’s desk.

  Ethan had gone to check in with the Elite Guards. Neither Satan nor Levi had graced us with their presence yet, but there was still fifteen minutes before the meeting was scheduled to start. Martha and Jane had shown up early.

  Lucky me.

  “Yep,” Martha replied with a gleeful cackle. “If Hottie McEvil-pants wants to make off with Ethan’s shit, I figured he wouldn’t be able to resist a present. Would serve him right to go home with a sphincter.”

  “Darn tootin’,” Jane added, handing me a sheet of paper with names on it. “If the Devil’s gonna steal your crap, he deserves to own the muscle in the asshole that cuts the doody off. Might make the sexy stud rethink swiping stuff that doesn’t belong to him.”

  “Are you two okay?” I asked, with my mouth hanging open. Placing the paper on Ethan’s desk, I glanced at it. There were five names on it. I recognized none of them.

  “We’re fine,” Jane grunted. “Why?”

  “Because you actually made sense. It was seriously disgusting, but it made sense,” I replied, imagining the look on Uncle Fucker’s face when he realized he had stolen a sphincter.

  “We always make sense, even when we don’t. Most of the time our own brilliance goes right over our very sexy heads,” Martha explained. “We’re so intellectually above the masses that they just don’t fucking understand us and neither do we.”

  I laughed. “Not sure I’d go that far, but your devious plan for today is damned good.”

  Jane gave me a thumbs up. “We always have your back, Bulges St. Boobala.”

  “Thanks, Saggy Milksquirt,” I replied, deciding if I couldn’t stop them from the name-

  calling, I’d join them.

  “Niiiice, Busty Bazooms,” Jane shot back.

  “I thought so, Droopy Hooters.”

  Martha’s eyes narrowed and her grin grew wide. “Game on, Bongo Cans.”

  “Lame, Floppy Chest Cheeks,” I challenged.

  Jane squealed and dropped into a fighting stance. It was disturbingly similar to her bow. The old Vamp looked like she was about to take a dump. “You can’t win, Jubblies McHeadlamps.”

  “Watch me, Crumpled Lady Bubbles.”

  “Well, Jumbo Maracas, you have finally proven yourself worthy,” Martha announced, slapping me a high-five.

  “Always happy to amuse you, Dangling Milk Duds.”

  “Umm… can I play?” Anastasia asked with a grin, standing in the open doorway of the office.

  Just seeing Ethan’s sister made me smile. I hoped that she would stay even though Ethan had ordered Wilhem and his clingy consort to leave.

  “Are you up to the challenge?” I asked.

  “Always,” she replied smoothly.

  “Go for it, Bodacious Blouse Clowns,” Jane crowed with delight.

  “I
shall, Blubber Nuggets,” Anastasia said, pointing at Jane. “And you, Dairy Pillow McDoorknobs, are going to lose.”

  Martha got so excited she began to levitate. Yanking her out of the air, I tossed her bony butt onto a chair.

  “Thanks, Gigantic Globes,” Martha said.

  “No problem, Jiggly Puffs,” I said, laughing.

  Martha let it rip, calling everyone’s lady bits in the room so many names, I was doubled over laughing. Anastasia was flabbergasted and giggling uncontrollably.

  “Fine!” Anastasia shouted. “You win.”

  “You get one last shot,” Martha dared Anastasia. “One last chance to win the Mammary Championship.”

  “Also known as Queen of the Knockers,” Jane added.

  Anastasia wiped the grin off her face and got serious. “And if I win?”

  “You won’t,” Jane stated.

  “But if I do?” she pressed.

  Martha and Jane exchanged glances. This was some serious shit.

  “If you win, we will perform a full-length, six-hour and thirty-two-minute private concert for you in your home,” Martha promised.

  “That’s worth seventy-five dollars without tips,” Jane explained. “The only other person we’ve done it for was Simon Cowell. He cried for two weeks afterward.”

  “And he never paid us,” Martha chimed in.

  “Umm… not sure the prize is worth it,” I told my sister-in-law. “Your eardrums won’t survive.”

  “I think the prize is outstanding,” Anastasia countered with a wink. “I will go for it.”

  I shook my head. She’d never heard the old bats sing. She was in for a tragically horrifying surprise. “It’s your hearing.”

  Rubbing her hands together and eyeing the two imbeciles who were probably hoping to lose so they could perform a concert, Anastasia cleared her throat and dove in.

  “Mango McMauMaus, you have picked the wrong dead gal to compete with,” she began, much to the delight of Martha and Jane. “Noogie Pumpkins who challenge me are little more than Squishy Shirt-Potatoes looking to lose. But Tatas LaSkin-Sacks rarely know when they’ve met their match. Meatloaf Mounds who claim unfounded victory should accept that they are merely Lady-Lumps LeBlubber-nuts. And in conclusion, I shall leave you with this…”

 

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