Mr. Stick-in-the-mud paused. This was C-R-A-Z-Y, crazy. I’d come to serve? Humble servant? What in the hell was wrong with Vampyres? My babysitters were pulling me to my feet, and as told, I kept my head down. I wanted to giggle. This was too damned serious. I felt like I was in church with all the kneeling and standing and bowing of heads.
“Astrid of the Cressida House,” said a male voice. A familiar male voice. A very familiar male voice. No way . . . No, no, no. What the fu . . . ? I wanted to stamp my feet and scream. This could not be happening.
Instead of turning around and running out of the room, or finding a silver stake and ramming it through my chest, I raised my head. Slowly. Praying that I was wrong about what I knew I wasn’t wrong about.
“Do you swear your loyalty to me? Will you be my humble servant and . . . serve me?” The voice was amused, his words laced with double entendre.
I felt my eyes go green with fury when they met the breathtaking gold of his. He smiled that sexy smile, and before I could stop myself I embarrassed my entire House and possibly the whole North American Dominion. Not to mention I put my life in incredible danger.
I called him an asshole. To be more precise, I used the F-word, with an ‘ing’ before the asshole part. That was when my three escorts tackled me.
***
“Get off of her,” Ethan, The Warrior Prince of the North American Dominion roared.
“My Liege,” I heard a woman speaking urgently to him, “she has no right to desecrate you in that way. She will be dealt with and punished accordingly. I will deal with her myself.”
What in the hell did that even mean?
“She had every right,” Ethan said, dismissing her with his tone and a wave of his hand. He addressed the pile on top of me. “Remove yourselves from her at once and bring her to me.”
The chaos and snapping fangs were surreal. I had no clue what was happening. Were they going to kill me? I was terrified, pissed, and in severe pain. The burning in my thigh was due to the dagger sticking out of it. The beautiful blade that I was set to slice my hand with was embedded deep in my thigh. A small side effect of being tackled by a gaggle of Vampyres, and it hurt like a bitch. Furthermore, they completely ruined my Prada dress. Knife in thigh? Fine. Lying asshole Prince? Whatever. Torn Prada? Unforgivable. Unfortunately, I did what was becoming very natural for me. I let it all hang out. Pam would kick my ass later, but her right hook was the least of my worries at the moment.
I lifted my hands and let the glitter fly. I’d freeze every last one of their undead asses and make a run for it. This was not one of my better plans. Damn it, if they hadn’t screwed with my dress none of this would have happened. It would take more Magic than I had to immobilize that many Vamps. There were six hundred of them. I only froze the Vampyres within twenty feet of me. Bizarrely, they didn’t just freeze. They were definitely frozen, but they were also dangling helplessly in the air. I wasn’t quite sure how I did that, but it worked. Of course the dangling Vampyres discouraged any others from getting too close. I suppressed a totally inappropriate giggle at the sight of fifty or so Vampyres floating in the air like helium balloons.
“Angel,” Ethan said to me, “let them down. They will not hurt you.”
“They already did,” I shot back, referring to my bloody mangled thigh that was healing as I spoke. “And why in the world should I believe anything you say? Oh, and by the way, my name is not Angel,” I yelled at him.
“Look at me,” he said.
I refused.
“Look at me,” he repeated.
I refused again.
“Please . . . look at me, Angel,”
I did. My first mistake.
“I will not let them hurt you. I will not let anyone hurt you ever again.”
There was a collective gasp throughout the ballroom. Ethan’s golden eyes bored into mine with such an intensity that I felt a little drunk.
“I want proof,” I told him. He was too good at this and I had too much to lose. Like my life.
“Let me come to you and I will give you proof,” he said. His eyes never left mine for a moment.
I sensed hatred being shot at me from somewhere to his left. Scanning the group surrounding him, I found her. If looks could kill I would be so dead right now. Five bucks says she was the one who wanted to deal with me and punish me. Yikes. She had to be the girlfriend, and she was beautiful. Not only was she beautiful, she was the female version of Heathcliff. Please don’t tell me the pathetic loser that had been schtupping Ethan for a hundred years was Cathy. This did not bode well for so many of my future plans. She was furious and, quite honestly, looked a little unstable.
“Ethan,” she said to him, “I don’t think . . . ”
“Let me come to you,” he repeated, cutting her off and ignoring her. She stepped back, humiliated.
“Yes,” I told him, “but only you.”
“It will only ever be me, Angel,” he said, striding towards me. Again with the collective gasps. What in the hell was he talking about only me? He was crazy. Why did I trust him? Why? Why? Why? Because I was an idiot, that’s why.
He was so close I could touch him, but I wouldn’t give him that satisfaction. His eyes flashed with disappointment and I turned away before I changed my mind and jumped him or punched him.
“Let them down, Angel,” he said gently.
“You said you had proof,” I told him, refusing to look at him or to back down.
“Are you absolutely sure that you want proof?” he asked.
“Yes,” I said, slowly glancing up.
“One hundred percent sure?” he asked, smiling wickedly.
“I think so.” Mistake number two.
“Very well then,” he said, turning to address all the Vampyres in the ballroom. “Astrid of the Cressida House, known as Angel only to me,” he paused, letting that one sink in, “will become a member of my Elite Security Force. As you can plainly see, she is gifted and has the ability to protect me in . . . creative ways.” With a smirk, he indicated the fifty of his warriors floating in the air around him.
The silence in the room was palpable, and he continued. “I also believe that she is the Chosen One. The one from our Prophecies. The One we have waited for.”
Again with the collective gasps, but this time I joined in. What on earth was he talking about? Chosen what?
“That’s not possible, Your Highness,” Cathy quickly retorted. “She must be one with the Angels and Fairies. She must be able to control Demons.”
Ethan, with his back to her, quietly demanded, “Do you have knowledge that she cannot do these things?”
“No, my Liege, I do not.” She wasn’t backing down.
“Then I would suggest you keep your opinions to yourself.” He was very polite, but there were daggers sticking out of every word. Good God, remind me never to get on his bad side. He was very still—he looked inhuman, like a beautiful furious statue.
“Yes, my Liege.” She backed way down.
Before my eyes, he went from deadly Vampyre Prince back to sexy, lying piece of shit. Scary Vampyre Leader Guy was gone. He was Ethan again.
“Was that the proof?” I asked.
“No,” he replied.
“What’s the proof?” I asked, getting exasperated with him. He grinned and my tummy flipped.
“This is.”
It happened so fast. I couldn’t have stopped him if I tried, and sadly, I didn’t try. In an instant his fangs elongated and he yanked me to him. There was a searing pain in my neck as he bit me. My skin ripped like paper and the sound that left my lips was inhuman.
I was falling through the rabbit hole like Alice in Wonderland. He wanted to kill me, and this time he would succeed. I was so stupid. His arms were like steel vises holding me immobile against his body. Why did I let him come near me? He’d been nothing but bad since the moment I met him. I screamed again. Every nerve ending in my body was pushed to its limit. Everything was getting dark and a loud ringing
pierced my ears. Why wouldn’t Venus or Heathcliff save me? I thought Venus was my friend. I would save her. From above myself, I heard the sobs rip from my chest. I struggled against him to stop the burning exploding through my body, but he was too strong for me and the blood loss was blocking my Magic. From the sounds he was making, he was getting some perverse sexual satisfaction from killing me. I hated him.
What a horrible way to die . . . at least I had good underwear on. Wait, something is not . . . oh, no. The pain slowly subsided and turned into something else, something far worse. He still drank from me. I knew this was significant, but for the life of me, I couldn’t remember why.
The pain was replaced by a heat that started low in my abdomen and slowly wound its way through me. Strong hands were roaming all over my body touching me everywhere, and I mean everywhere. Stroking, teasing, pinching, squeezing, probing . . . Oh. My. God. He wasn’t trying to kill me, but it would have been better if he had. It was hazy as to exactly when my screams turned into moans, but they did. Oh God, if he didn’t stop soon, my moans would turn back into screams. That would be bad. Crazy, embarrassing bad.
I was sure Cathy wailed “No!” at some point, and through my blurry vision I thought I saw Heathcliff hold her back. He looked so sad and disappointed. I couldn’t understand why. I couldn’t understand anything. And then I exploded.
Ethan pulled his fangs out of my neck right after I had the best orgasm of my life in front of a ballroom filled with hundreds of Vampyres. Hatred didn’t even begin to cover what I felt for him. He bit into his own tongue, leaned into my neck and licked the puncture wounds he’d made, officially co-mingling our blood. I was weak, pissed, dizzy and bizarrely satiated, like I’d just had great sex for three hours.
As much as I hated him, I had to admit that was one fantastic . . . no, wait. Oh shit, no . . . what just happened? Was I halfway mated to him? If he wasn’t already dead, I would kill him.
“What in the hell did you do?” I yelled.
“What I was meant to do,” he informed me smugly. “What I wanted to do from the moment I laid eyes on you.” He leaned in and continued his crazy talk at a whisper, “I did what I’ve never even been tempted to do to anyone else in my entire five hundred and twenty-two years.”
I stared at him, my mouth agape. I wanted to slap him. Then he mouthed something to me. I wasn’t positive, but it looked like You’re mine. He was grinning from ear to ear, speaking in full voice again, “You wanted proof? You have it. No one will ever harm my intended mate. It is punishable by death.”
The ballroom exploded into applause. I assumed they were clapping for the Prince. For the Prince’s joy at being halfway mated to the crazy Vampyre girl with powers that could suspend them midair if she didn’t like what they had to say. That was flat out strange. If bloodsucking and orgasms equated to engagement announcements, this Vamp world was more screwed than I thought. My chest was tight and I wanted to run. I had to get away from all of these insane dead people. Especially Ethan. I looked around and tried to find Venus amidst all the jumping, cheering, whistling Vampyres, but it was impossible.
I did spot two people who had not joined in on the celebration . . . Heathcliff and Cathy. She was staring at the floor and he stood stiffly beside her. I caught his eye and held his gaze for a moment. He looked away. I barely knew him but I felt as if I’d betrayed him. When did my life get so fucking complicated?
I wasn’t sure if it was the blood loss or the fact that I was halfway mated to someone that had tried to kill me, lied to me and gave me an orgasm in front of six hundred Vampyres, but I was fading fast.
But a promise was a promise. Right before I blacked out, I stretched my fingers out to the floating, applauding Vampyres and released them. I vaguely remember hearing thuds and groans as everything went black.
Chapter 15
Oh my God, it was so soft. I moaned and sank farther down into my bed. My bed had never been so cozy. I stretched and snuggled deeper under the covers. When did I buy such amazing sheets? How in the hell did I afford them? I didn’t remember owning such soft, gorgeous sheets. They had to be at least a thousand thread count. Shit . . . I didn’t own soft, gorgeous, thousand thread count sheets or a bed this huge . . . which meant this wasn’t my bed. I was in someone else's bed . . . naked. What the fu . . . ?
Think, think. Where was I? I was at the Cressida House to get initiated and then I got drunk and went home with some random Vampyre. No, that wasn’t even possible. Number one, I didn’t drink. Number two, Vampyres couldn’t get drunk because they only drank blood. Alright, that scenario was out . . . I remembered Heathcliff. Sweet, handsome Heathcliff and then . . . what happened after that? It was on the tip of my brain. I saw Ethan, and then . . . oh shit.
It all came flooding back to me in a hurricane of mortification. Dangling Vampyres, screaming orgasm, pissed off girlfriend, gaping hole in thigh, ruined Prada dress, halfway mated to an extraordinarily beautiful, crazy, scary, lying bastard Warrior Prince.
Maybe if I closed my eyes it would all go away.
I tried.
It didn’t.
Son of a bitch, how many things could go wrong for me in two months? I died and I’m engaged? All this because I quit smoking? Really? Movement on the ceiling caught my eye. To my great joy, there were monsters up there. Not my monsters, other little ugly babies. I waved. Maybe they could help me escape.
“Hi,” I whispered, just in case anyone was around. “I’m Astrid. Some of you live at my house.”
They stopped dancing and stared at me, shocked and pleased to be noticed. They began to wave and shriek and show off. I giggled and threw some Glitter Magic to them. They ate it and went bonkers.
These guys were bold. They were trying to jump off the ceiling and come down to me. I was sure that was a very bad idea. The Vamps already thought I was a freak. I didn’t want them to know I was a monster magnet.
“No, no.” I pointed at three of them who were ready to go. “You stay.” Thankfully they did. Amazing. Something that actually listened to me.
The little monsters were so special. I was delighted that they lived on ceilings everywhere. I debated getting out of the bed and dancing with them, but decided against it. No telling who would walk in, plus I was naked and I wasn’t sure where I was. As their dancing hit psychotic levels, I realized they were not a good escape plan. I was assuming I was still at the Cressida House. Hopefully in Venus’ room . . . although this looked a little opulent for a regular Vampyre.
The bed was a huge, hand-carved, four poster work of art. The wood was dark and rich. The bedding was covered in olive and cream brocades with thick down comforters in dark navy. Everything was insanely soft and expensive. There must have been twenty pillows on the bed. Definitely not Venus’ room.
I sat up and really looked around. The rest of the suite followed suit. There were thick Persian rugs, and dark wood furniture mixed with chocolate leather chairs and couches. A huge stone fireplace dominated one wall. The curtains on the floor to ceiling windows looked like they belonged in a French Renaissance castle, but the pièce de résistance was the chandelier. It was stunning—tier upon tier of the most exquisite crystal drops I’d ever seen. I loved anything that sparkled, and this put everything I’d ever admired to shame.
The more I thought about it, the more I was convinced this was his room. How did I get here? I could only guess. Why was I naked? I didn’t want to know. Did I need to get out of here? You bet.
“Hey guys,” I questioned my new monster buddies, “do you know where my clothes are?”
“Over there,” a female answered.
“Oh my God.” I was flabbergasted. “You guys can talk?” They were far more advanced than my monsters. They were flipping, punching each other in the head, running in circles and screaming. Well, a little more advanced. There was so much commotion I couldn’t figure out which little cutie had spoken.
“You need to stay still,” I told them. “Whichever one of you little
dudes spoke to me needs to do it again.” Maybe they could help me escape, but more importantly, I bet they could tell me how to teach Rachel and Ross and Honest Abe to talk. Beyonce was another story. She had issues.
“Come on, please,” I begged. “When did you learn to talk? Did someone teach you?” If they would tell me their secret, I could talk with my babies instead of at them.
“Let me see . . . it was about two hundred years ago and my mother taught me,” Venus said, staring at me from the doorway.
“Shit!” I screamed. “You scared me to death.”
The monsters shrieked and disappeared.
“That’s impossible,” she replied coldly, “you’re already dead.” Her arms were crossed over her chest and she wasn’t liking me much.
“Who were you speaking to?” she asked.
“Um . . . nobody?”
She was silent. She slowly walked into the room, grabbed clothing off of a chair and threw it on the bed.
“Friends don’t lie to friends,” she stated flatly.
“Friends didn’t lie to friends,” I said, and she snorted. “Certain friends were really scared and freaked out, so they didn’t lie . . . they omitted. Certain friends had other friends from different species that arrived before friends who are accusing friends of lying. Those other friends told her not to tell certain things.” I was confusing myself.
“There is no reason in hell I should have followed that, but somehow I did.” Venus said, walking toward the bed. “Were you just talking to those certain friends?”
“No.” God, how to explain this . . . “Actually, the certain friends who told me not to tell certain things don’t know about the friends I was just talking to.”
“Jesus Christ, Astrid,” Venus grabbed her head. “I can’t keep up with you. To tell you the truth, I’m not sure I want to.” She turned to go.
Fashionably Dead Page 12
