Chapter 12
Changes of plans that disrupt your child's schedule can result in madness (in the parent and occasionally the institutionalization of said parent). It is suggested to keep regular nap times and feeding times. If you can't do this, be prepared to suffer the consequences…
"So we're going to take Samuel back during the American Idol show?" I asked as I put some space between me and Ethan. He seemed to be taking the fake mate thing a bit too seriously.
"Hell to the no," The Kev said as he dusted the furniture in the new safe house he'd taken us to.
"But you told…" I started.
"Of course I told them that. I can't have them knowing our real plans," he explained as he rearranged knickknacks to his liking. He had one Hell of a case of OCD going on. "There's a chance one of them has already gone to The Corrine."
"Are you kidding me?" I snapped. "Why in the Hell would you tell them anything if you thought they would reveal us?"
"Because he wants The Corrine to know," Ethan said as he slid his large hands around my waist and pulled me close.
"Um, well I—you know," I stammered as I extricated myself from his grasp. It was alarming how good it felt to be in his arms. My brain got mushy when he was too close. "Why do you want her to know?"
"It will infuriate her and make her sloppy," The Kev said as he ripped a lovely afghan off the green couch and shredded it. "The color was wrong," he explained as he replaced it with a blinding orange and purple fleece blanket. Obsessive compulsive with horrendous taste…nice. "I also wanted to make it clear that the child did not belong to Gemma. You were quite spectacular in your explanation, Krumecaca."
If I could blush I'd be bloody. "It was the first thing that came to mind," I mumbled. "I don't even remember all of it." I refused to make eye contact with Ethan. I had given him a vasectomy and basically castrated him in front of witnesses. I wasn't sure he would like that much.
"Will they believe Samuel is not Gemma's?" Ethan asked as he examined a pile of clothes that The Kev had dropped on a table in front of him. "You can't possibly expect me to wear any of this."
"I can and I do." The Kev grinned from ear to ear. "You're a rock star, my man. You have to dress like one. And to answer your first question, I'm not sure."
"I have a difficult time believing Bon Jovi wore assless leather chaps," he said as he pinched the bridge of his nose and winced.
"Whoops!" The Kev chuckled. "Those are mine. Sorry about that."
"Does Gemma know about those?" I asked. I giggled at the appalled scream she would produce if she saw her man in pants with the butt cut out.
"She bought them for me." He grinned and wiggled his very nice rear end that I was now picturing in ways I shouldn't.
That certainly shut me up. Covering my shock and embarrassment I pawed through the pile of fabric scraps The Kev had dropped in front of me. "I can't wear any of this hookery shit," I told him.
"It's good to see you are becoming one with your profanity again," he said kindly and ignored my ultimatum.
"Did you hear me?" I asked.
"I did."
"Are you ignoring me?"
"I am."
I groaned and tried to find the least offensive article of clothing I could. It was practically all lingerie—sheer lingerie. Bon Jovi and Pink were going to make a statement.
"I am going to scout Xanthia. You two will study the maps of the park. Pay special attention to The Grand Fun Palace and The Magic Mystery Castle. Do not leave the safe house under any circumstance. I'll be back as soon as I can. Don't do anything I wouldn't do." He grinned and disappeared in a blast of silver and pink glitter.
"That doesn't leave much," I muttered as I carefully spread the map out on the huge oak table. All of these little safe houses were lovely. Did I have a lovely home too? I wanted to ask Ethan, but I'd resigned myself to following the rules. I would get my memory back when I was supposed to.
"Astrid," Ethan said as he came up behind me. His breath on my neck and his desire went straight through me. It was so palpable it hurt. My reaction to him must mean something, but for the life of me I couldn't place it. My weakness where he was concerned was infuriating. It had to be a test of some kind. A test I could not fail.
"Ethan, move," I said stiffly. "We have to study the map. I can't play these games with you. Your son's life is at stake along with the violent yet sexy Martha and Jane. Just let me work with the map. I'm very sure your wife wouldn't appreciate your roving eyes and hands."
"Fine," he said tightly as he moved away. I felt the loss of his body heat acutely. "Close your eyes and run your hands over the map. It will become ingrained in your mind."
"I can do that?" I asked. What the Hell? That was freakin' awesome.
"Yes, you can."
"Have I done this before?"
"No, you haven't had the need. New day—new trick."
This was a dream come true. I had prayed for a skill like this in high school and college. I would have aced American History and World Religions if I'd had this kind of voodoo when I was human. Human…When was I human?
"I haven't been a Vampyre for very long," I said slowly.
"No, you haven't." He crossed the room, took a seat and watched me.
"Was I dying and someone had to save me so they turned me into a bloodsucker?"
"Um…no. You were trying to quit smoking and ended up undead," he said.
"What the fuck kind of redonkulous story is that?" I yelled. "I didn't smoke. That is the dumbest thing I've ever heard…Oh my God," I screeched. "Did I just say fuck?"
"Twice." He grinned and dropped his beautiful head into his beautiful hands.
"Ethan, please excuse my vulgar language. I'm a little stressed at the moment. You know, with half of my mind missing and wanting to attack you so badly I could burst. You've been a total gentleman for the most part. It's not your fault that you're hotter than Satan's underpants…wait. Satan is my uncle?" I asked.
"Yep."
"Okay, comparing you to my uncle's underpants is just gross, but you get my drift. Right?"
"Yep."
My mind was swirling in directions that I knew were wrong. I didn't have any memory of my recent past, so if I jumped the sexy Vampyre would that really be cheating on my husband or wife? Justification was starting to make sense and my inner hooker was completely on the same page. If I just did it once I could get rid of the overwhelming sexual tension I was feeling. That was smart for the mission. How could I be expected to focus on saving the prisoners if my mind was in Ethan's pants? Maybe Vampyres weren't monogamous. This was a responsible and mature thing to do. I could sit on his face for a bit and then ride him like a steed. If he promised not to tell no one would be the wiser. Plus, when I got my memory back, I might not remember any of this stuff. Brilliant. Maybe not my finest moment of morality, but there was much more at stake here—like the lives of people who I didn't know. Was I kidding myself? Probably, but there was only one way to release the debilitating need south of my belly button.
"So Ethan, I was thinking…"
"Nope," he said. "Not happening."
"How do you even know what I was going to say?" I demanded.
"Because I…because I just do. The answer is no. Your mate would be furious if you had sex with another who you thought wasn't your mate."
I didn't quite follow that. I was sure he just said way more than what I heard, but I was mostly shocked. "You don't want me?" Why did that feel so awful?
"Astrid," he ground out through clenched teeth as he roughly ran his hands through his hair. He sat forward in his chair and I was very sure it was because of a painful, and from the looks of it, humongous erection. "It's quite clear what I want, but I only want it a certain way and you are incapable of giving it to me that way at the moment."
"Are you into really kinky sex?"
His groan of frustration made me want to laugh, but his agony was real. Forget about mine. I was more turned on than before due to his
chivalry and dedication to his mate. He was a flirt. Maybe she was okay with that. I wouldn't be, but he wasn't my problem. Thankfully, he was good enough to stop me from acting on my baser instincts.
"Ethan, thank you. You're right. I would never forgive myself for cheating. I have no clue what came over me. I can easily solve this with my hand and a shower nozzle. If you'll excuse me for about a half hour, I need to go masturbate. I'd suggest you do the same while I'm in the bathroom. Blue balls won't make a rescue mission any easier." I was tempted to ask him if I could touch his butt for a minute or so, but he was clearly on the edge. His eyes glittered a brilliant green and his fangs had dropped. His entire edible body was coiled tight and I could tell it took all he had to stay seated. It was awesome to feel desired so intensely. I certainly hoped my mate was as hot as Ethan and made me feel the same way.
Swiftly I ran from the room in desperate search of a bathroom. A minute more with Ethan and I would have lost all my self-respect. I was beyond tempted to strip and tackle him. Even though his words were pretty, I knew I could have him if I pushed the issue. That would be wrong and I knew I'd live to regret it, no matter how much I enjoyed it in the moment.
***
Holy crap he made a lot of noise. I could hear him grunting and yelling out in the living room. Clearly he was having more fun than I was. I couldn't bring myself to orgasm if my life depended on it. So not fair. The hum of the shower nozzle blocked out most of his sexual noises, but not all of them. He must be into the kink. It sounded pretty violent out there. He was really spanking the monkey in a big way. Wait. If I listened to him getting off, I might be able to pretend he was with me and I could have the mother of all orgasms…I turned off the shower and got ready to pass out from ecstasy, but he was done. Damn it, it was totally silent. I couldn't even sense him anymore. Maybe he stepped outside to cool off.
Totally grumpy, I slipped on the obscene clothing that The Kev had left for me. It was probably a good thing Ethan had taken care of things because this outfit was not going to help matters. I was wearing hip hugging jeans, a black push up bra and a sheer midriff icy pink top. The spike heeled black boots were hotter than Hell and I knew as slutty as I might look, I was working it. At least the brands rocked—Prada, Stella McCartney and Agent Provocateur. The Kev's wallet was definitely thinner after having bought this stash. I wondered which outfit Ethan had picked. It looked like mostly leather…
"Ethan?" I called as I rounded the corner and took in what used to be a cozy and orderly living room. What the Hell? It was a freakin' mess. The furniture was overturned and broken. The Kev's heinous blanket lay in tatters on the blood covered floor. Blood covered floor? "Ethan," I shouted. Something was very wrong.
I stopped and shut my eyes. I was a Vampyre and a Demon. I must have some kind of Spidey senses. I was also a True Immortal—whatever the Hell that meant. Think. Just think. He wasn't here but I could smell his scent. His fury still lingered in the room, but it was mixed with something sinister and vaguely familiar.
Fairies.
Fairies had been here, but I wasn't sure which ones. Damn it. I hadn't paid enough attention to the individual scents of the bastards. Bastard wasn't a bad word. It was a person born to an unwed mother. Not that I was using it that way when referring to the bastard Fairies, but I felt a little better knowing it had a double meaning.
Getting down on my hands and knees I crawled around the room and sniffed like a dog. My gut clenched in fear for Ethan. The blood was his. I knew his blood deep inside me. Had I had his blood? No time to figure that out at the moment. How had they taken him and why? He was Jon Bon Jovi, for God's sake and I was Pink. I thought these bitchass Fairies were obsessed with famous singers.
Oh my freakin' Hell, had The Kev set us up? Did he leave so they could take us? No. That didn't feel right. The Kev was my friend. He was my teacher—he taught me how to kill and how to protect myself. He was the mate of my best friend and he loved me like a child. He was the godfather to one of my many children. Which child? Why couldn't I remember my children? What kind of suckass mother was I? I curled into a tight ball on the floor and clutched at the torn pieces of the horrible fleece blanket until the searing pain of remembering passed. Motherhumper in a sequined boob tube. When would this end?
I crawled over to the map which was miraculously still in one piece. I closed my eyes and ran my hands over it, including all of the areas outside of the city. As my hands grazed the map I felt the information settle in my head. I now knew exactly where I was and exactly where I was headed. Where they took Ethan was the unknown, but I hoped to be able to sense him or run into The Kev along the way. If all else failed I would start with the Magic Mystery Castle and the Grand Fun Palace. Maybe after I saved everyone we could all take a ride on the fucking Ferris wheel…Fuck was now added to my vocabulary. It was an outstanding word that could basically mean just about anything. It could be used as a noun, verb and adverb. It rolled off the tongue with ease and even if you spoke a foreign language it was difficult not to understand fuck off or off you fuck or fuck you. As a concession, I would only say fuck four times a day. However, not knowing what I was walking into I was reserving the right to use it more—just for today.
Chapter 13
When your child tells you he has an imaginary friend, do not discount this as fantasy. Oftentimes your child isn't imagining anything. If he persists with alarming and violent stories about this fictional buddy, it's probably a Troll. Do a thorough search of your home and kill it. Decapitation works best. Some imaginary friends are harmless. However, it's wise not to take chances.
The terrain outside Xanthia proper was rough and the spike-heeled boots weren't helping. I could see the amusement park in the distance, but getting to it was a challenge. The foliage was dense and the strangest species of animals wandered around eating the leaves and occasionally each other. Lovely. The green and orange striped beasts that resembled warthogs were the ones I avoided at all cost. I knew I could take one out, but having to fight an entire pack could ruin my outfit. I hadn't thought to bring any extra hooker clothes so I needed to take care of the ones I was wearing.
"It would be easier if you just flew," a tiny voice informed me.
I jerked around but couldn't find the source of the voice. What the heck was it? Where in the heck was it?
"You could also transport, but if you've never been where you are going that could be dangerous," it said and then giggled. It sounded like it had sucked back a couple of helium balloons. I smiled even though I could soon realize it was the size of a truck and wanted to eat me as a midmorning snack.
"Where are you?" I asked as I took a defensive stance and kept moving my gaze.
"You're silly," it said. "I won't hurt you."
"And I know that how?" I asked and didn't relax one bit.
"Because I'm a Mini Elf. I never lie." Its tinkling giggle was infectious and I had a difficult time keeping a straight face.
What the Hell was a Mini Elf? "Show yourself," I demanded. "Now."
"Keep your pants on, Demon-Vampyre. You could use some manners," it huffed.
Was it male or female? I couldn't tell. However, it was correct. I was being rude. "Please Mini Elf, show yourself. I apologize for being ill mannered."
"Do you promise not to laugh?" it asked.
"Well, with a set up like that I'm not sure, but I'll do my best." I crossed my fingers and prayed to my Uncle God. The truth shall set you free or get you eaten by a Mini Elf.
"I suppose that will have to do," it said primly. "Normally I don't show myself. It's not good for my self-esteem and my therapist suggested I live in hiding the rest of my life. Do you know how difficult it is to live without the interaction of others for nine hundred years?" it wailed.
"Um, no. Why don't you describe your looks, so I have a chance to compose myself before your big reveal. That might be better for both of us."
"Hmmm…" Everything the Mini Elf said sounded like a song. "That is a very fair
and compassionate idea, Vampyre-Demon spawn."
"I have a name."
"So do I," it shot back as peals of laughter escaped from its little, I assumed and hoped, mouth. "Are we at that point in our relationship where we exchange monikers?"
"Good point." I was going to tell the thing my name was Pink anyway. "Describe yourself. Please."
"Very well." It sighed wearily. "I am the most beautiful being in the universe."
"Conceited much?" I mumbled.
"It's true," it huffed in its high-pitched tiny voice. "It sucks looking like I do. Everyone wants a piece of me. I was trapped in a motherfucking Genie bottle for three hundred and fifty-seven shit eating years. That ugly ass fat bastard of a Genie would take me out everyday and pet me with his smelly hands and beg for wishes."
Fashionably Dead in Diapers: Hot Damned Series Book 4 Page 12
