“We do have souls, child,” he reassured me, “and we will answer to God on Judgment Day, same as anyone else. We just have a much longer time to rack up sins than your average mortal.”
“I have to tell you something.” I hesitated and realized I should have told Ethan all of this before I mated with him. Oh my God, he hates Demons. Will he hate me? But I’m not a Demon. Okay I’m half, but Pam said I wasn’t a Demon. Does that count? He had a right to know what I was before he was stuck with me for eternity. How in the hell was I supposed to know he was prejudiced against Demons?
Again, I have screwed up another relationship. I guess I’ll be headed to Vampyre divorce court. I felt sick. I was in love with someone who hated what I was.
“Yes, my daughter?” the King waited.
“Right before my mother, um . . . died two weeks ago, she introduced me to a Demon. A bad one and she said . . . well, I mean, told me . . . ” God, there was no easy way to say this. “She said he was my father.”
The room was silent. Ethan’s anger was palpable.
“What was your mother?” Ethan demanded coldly. It was the first time I was afraid of him since our encounter in the graveyard. He was no longer the man I’d just spent hours making love with. He was the Prince of the North American Dominion and I was but a lowly subject with whom he was furious.
“Mortal, I think.” My voice came from far away.
“Is that possible?” he snapped at his father.
“Anything is possible,” the King said, looking at me intently. “After your change, you were raised and fed by an Angel and a Fairy, correct?” he asked.
“Correct,” I told him. “My Angel is Pam and my Fairy is The Kev.”
“My goodness,” the King smiled and took my hand, “they sent down the big guns for you.” When he touched my face, he made me feel safe and cared for. “There is no problem . . . you are not evil. You are who you are supposed to be. You are the Chosen One.”
God, he made me feel better. I’d spent my whole life thinking there was something wrong with me and that I wasn’t good enough to win my mother’s love, that I was unlovable. I had that same feeling in the pit of my stomach when Ethan got so mad. If the King could love a half Demon, I could only hope Ethan would do the same.
“Don’t you think,” Ethan said between clenched teeth, “that you might have informed me that you were a Demon before we mated?”
“Are you serious?” I gasped.
“Completely,” he said, his voice cold.
Oh my God, he was such an asshole. I was filled with rage and humiliation and embarrassment. I wanted to sob, or to hit him, but mostly I wanted to run away. If he did not want me, I did not want him. “Your Highness,” I spoke with icy calm, “it’s half Demon, not Demon. But you’re right, I should have told you . . . just like you should have told me you were going to severely limit my dating options before you bit me in front of six hundred Vampyres. Next time you sink your teeth into somebody you should probably do a better background check.”
I was amazed at my ability to sound cold and mean when all I really wanted to do was beg him to love me.
“Limiting dating options and being a disgusting spawn of the Devil are two entirely different things. Don’t you think?” His voice dripped with sarcasm and anger. I barely recognized him.
“No, I don’t think,” I hissed.
“That’s right . . . your kind doesn’t do much thinking.”
My cold, dead heart was truly broken. I wanted to die for real. Instead, I held my head high and looked the son of a bitch right in the eye.
“According to my Angel and my Fairy, their blood negated any Demonic tendencies I may have had. So you see, Your Highness, I am not considered a Demon. Back to your original concerns though, you’re right. I should have told you I was a disgusting half Demon, and on the same note you probably should have told me that you were a hateful, bigoted half-asshole!” I yelled.
Oh my God, was I crying? Shit, I was crying.
I tried to take the ring off and throw it at him, but it was stuck on my finger. I cried out in frustration and I narrowed my gaze at him. It finally seemed to have an effect. He still looked furious, but he was also very upset and uncomfortable. Good.
“We are no longer mated,” I hissed. I was losing it fast. “I don’t want you and you don’t want me. We are done!” My non-beating heart was shattered. I backed up quickly as he started to come for me. What the hell? Did he want to kill me on top of destroying my life?
“Don’t you dare come near me,” I screamed. That stopped him dead in his tracks. I threw my hands in the air and in a cloud of Fairy Glitter . . . I disappeared.
***
“She’s a feisty one, isn’t she?” The King said, brushing the magical glitter off of his suit.
“How can you be so calm?” Ethan yelled at his father. The King just stared at his son. “Oh my God, what have I done?”
Ethan dropped down into a chair and put his head in his hands. The King patted his son on the back.
“She can’t do that, can she?” he asked.
“Do what, my son?” the King asked.
“She can’t break the mating. She can’t leave me.”
“No,” the King said gently, “she can’t break the mating. Once the relationship is consummated, it is permanent. Unbreakable, except through death. As far as leaving you . . . that she can do, but you would still be mated.”
“She’s mine, whether she knows it or not,” Ethan muttered. He paused for a moment. “I don’t think I handled that well.”
His head dropped back into his hands.
“No,” his Father agreed, “I don’t believe you did. You may think she’s yours, but I’m quite sure she would not agree. Does it really bother you that she is half Demon?”
“For a moment it did. My God, I’ve hated Demons for over five hundred years . . . and then I realized that I wouldn’t care if she were half the Devil himself. I’d still love her.” He paused. “What do I do now?”
The King considered his son’s options. “I suppose you could start by begging.”
Chapter 29
I walked slowly toward the tomb, my hands outstretched. I could feel the tingling in my fingertips. It quickly spread down my arms, through my chest and into my legs. My heart was pounding inside me, my stomach felt twisted and it was hard to breathe. The wind picked up and blew my hair wildly around my head. I was inches away.
“Push, Astrid,” she gasped.
I placed both of my hands on the tomb and began to push. The tomb started to crumble under my fingers. The stone turned to cold, hard diamonds—beautiful, sparkling sharp ice that sliced into my hands. My hands bled, but I did not stop. I was so close. The blood ran from my hands, down my arms, and seeped into the soft white cotton of my shirt. The stunning diamonds were awash in my blood . . . I knew if I pushed just a little more . . . I could . . . The pain was becoming intolerable. Every nerve ending in my body was on high alert, screaming for me to stop.
If I could just push harder . . . I felt silk, soft slippery silk, between my fingers. Her dress . . . .I was touching her dress. I was so close to her. I knew I could save her. I needed to pull her out. I looked down and watched my blood turn her beautiful, sheer, green silk dress to crimson. She was laughing with joy . . . She was so proud of me. I had waited my whole life to hear her tell me . . .
OUCH! What the fu . . . ? I opened my eyes. My little monsters were standing on my chest covered in bloody diamonds, looking confused and alarmed.
“Oh my God,” I cried, “are you guys okay?”
I frantically brushed the bloody diamonds off of my babies and checked them for injuries. Ross had a jagged cut on his forehead and Honest Abe’s shoulder was sliced open. Beyonce and Rachel looked upset but fine. The boy’s gashes were not deep, but they were definitely bleeding. Why in the hell were bloody diamonds in my room? That was a dream. Wasn’t it?
I picked up a handful of diamonds and stared at
them as they turned to a fine powdery dust and slipped through my fingers. I thought I was okay with all the Magic and craziness in my life, but this one was a little unnerving.
“Dink,” Ross pointed to his little forehead.
“I know, baby,” I cooed, holding him in my palm and running my thumb through his Velcro hair. It had just been in the last week that we’d been able to fully communicate with speech. It thrilled me. “You dinked your little head. Mommy will make it better.” I went to wipe the blood away with my finger and they all started screaming, scaring the hell out of me and making me drop Ross onto the bed.
“No, Mommy,” they shrieked. “Dink, dink, dink!” They mimed licking Ross’ forehead and Honest Abe’s shoulder. What the fu . . . ? They wanted me to drink from them?
“Drink?” I asked them.
“Dink, dink. YESSS!”
They were doing back flips and grinning from ear to ear, slapping each other with high fives and kissing me all over my face. I giggled and squeezed Ross’ fat belly. He screamed with joy and proceeded to tackle Honest Abe, who in turn tried to slap Rachel in the back of the head but missed and nailed Beyonce. Of course Beyonce got pissed and kicked Honest Abe in his little Demon nuts. Honest Abe doubled over and moaned in agony while Beyonce laughed hysterically. Rachel just looked confused and Ross cupped his own balls, in defense or solidarity . . . I didn’t know which.
“I can’t drink from you. I might hurt you,” I told them. Now there was an irony considering what they had just done to each other.
“DINK, DINK, DINK,” they chanted, jumping up and down on my bed. They sounded like the Munchkins from The Wizard of Oz, or me after I sucked all the helium out of a balloon.
I picked up Ross and brought him eye level. “Are you sure?” I asked. I would die if I hurt him.
“Yesssss, Mommmmy,” he said, kissing all my fingertips. The peanut gallery below was still chanting “Dink, Dink, Dink.” I gently ran my tongue over Ross’ wound. He tasted amazing, like Skittles and Sweet Tarts. He purred like a happy kitten.
The minute his blood entered my system something strange happened. Bolts of heat shot through my body, down through my toes and out through my fingertips. It was violent. I started to convulse, but it quickly turned into a gentle hot wave churning inside me. It didn’t hurt, just felt surreal, floaty and powerful. I wondered if I was crazy to trust my Demons. No, I was not crazy. I did trust them. With my life.
Ross stared at me, his little golden eyes shining. He gently touched my chin. “Take moooooore, Mommy, you need more. I make you strong.” He licked my face and rubbed his Velcro hair on my cheek. His cut had almost closed. I carefully ran my tongue over it again and had an identical reaction. As I came down off the bizarre high from Ross’ blood, I could hear Honest Abe impatiently babbling.
“Me next, Mommmmy, MEEEEEEEE! My turn, Mommmmmmy,” he yelled frantically, jumping up and down like a Mexican jumping bean on crack. I picked him up and slowly licked his shoulder, being careful not to hurt him. He tasted different from Ross, but just as wonderful. His blood reminded me of watermelon Jolly Ranchers. I was shocked as my body started levitating off the bed. The ringing in my ears was almost deafening, but I could still make out the joyous cheering from my baby Demons.
“More, more, more, Mommmmmy,” they whooped. So I did. I licked again from the quickly healing shoulder wound of my little Honest Abe. He kissed me with delight as I levitated even higher.
He crawled up my face, over to my ear and whispered, “You can flllllyyyy now, Mommmmmy. I give you flllyyy.” He giggled and kissed me again.
I floated back down to my bed and realized I had controlled that. If I visualized what I wanted to happen, I could make it happen. I tried again. I closed my eyes and pictured myself flying around my room. I opened my eyes and I was doing it! I laughed and did back flips in the air as easily as if I were underwater. My little cheering section whistled and shouted.
I shot some Glitter Magic down to them and they went ballistic. I floated back to my bed and happily watched my Demons have fun. They were showing off like crazy, doing every trick they knew. Then all of a sudden they froze.
I looked around my room in a panic. Was someone here? No, it was just us. I looked back down at my babies. Beyonce had stepped forward and was clearing her little munchkin throat. She had taken up poetry and I could feel one coming on. The others were right to freeze. Beyonce had been known to beat the snot out of anyone who even breathed during one of her poems. She reminded me of Pam.
“Between this world and the next,
There’s only one way to kill,
A magic secret blown in the ear,
Do not cave into yourself,
Be strong like a rock and save us.”
She finished and took a bow. All the other Demons clapped like their lives depended on it.
Holy shit, what in the hell was that? If that was a foreshadow, it was bad. I wasn’t clear if Beyonce was talking about her past, or my future. I had a feeling it was my future, considering all the gifts I’d been receiving today.
“Mommmmmy, say with Beyonce,” she shrieked at me.
“Oookay,” I said.
“Say it, say it, say it.” They ran in a circle flapping their little arms like birds. I started and they joined.
“Between this world and the next,
There’s only one way to kill,
A magic secret blown in the ear,
Do not cave into yourself,
Be strong like a rock and save us.”
We finished and they just stared at me. “Will Mommy remember?” Beyonce asked me.
I realized then that the poem was definitely about my future.
“Yes, I will,” I told her. They looked at one another and seemed satisfied with my answer. After that, they began to pummel each other joyously. Rachel pulled herself out of the fray and shyly approached me.
“Rachel give Mommmeeeey present?” she asked.
God, she was cute. “Okay, baby,” I told her.
“Rachel’s present will hurt Mommmmmy, but she needs it. Okey dokey, Mommmmy?” she inquired, showing me her razor sharp little claws which were glowing a gorgeous sparkly iridescent silver pink.
What the fu . . . ? Today had to go down as the weirdest day of my life.
“Okay Rachel, how long will it take you to give Mommy your present?” I asked nervously.
She giggled, “Rachel go fast. Me no like to hurt Mommy.” She jumped up on me and made her way to my chest. She settled herself under my right collarbone and went to work.
Holy hell! Hurt didn’t even begin to describe it. The pain felt like hot poisoned lava burning my skin. I shut my eyes tight and with super Vampyre strength willed myself to stay still. I tried to count but all I wanted to do was die.
Finish . . .
God, please . . .
I was falling off of a cliff made of fire. A flock of sad beautiful white birds flew by and looked at me, but they didn’t try to save me. Angry voodoo dolls shot bloody fire arrows at my body, and Elvis was dancing on my grave. Naked . . . WTF? I realized I was inside Rachel’s mind and it was not a real good place to be. Then it stopped.
“Finished, Mommmmmy,” Rachel whispered. I opened my eyes and all four of them stood quietly on my chest, watching me.
“It’s a tattoo?” I asked Rachel. My voice sounded scratchy and far away. I didn’t have the heart to tell her that tattoos didn’t last on Vampyres. I was too scared she would try again.
“Angel Wings. Rachel give Mommy Angel Wing tattoo!” she trilled. “If Mommmy touches it, she gets more stronger.”
Well shit, I didn’t need to be any stronger than I already was, but I figured I’d try them out. I gingerly touched my wings. They felt hot to the touch. I shot some Glitter Magic at my Demons. It blasted out of my fingertips like bullets and knocked my little babies clear across the room. I freaked and ran to them only to find them laughing like hyenas and screaming.
“Again, again,” th
ey screeched.
God, they were tough little suckers. I scooped them up and gently kissed each one of them. In my hands, I held four amazingly powerful little creatures who loved me. They shared their gifts with me because they loved me . . . just the way I was.
I looked down at myself and realized I was still in my Prada dress and the kickass stilettos and I started to cry. I hated Ethan so much. I was no longer mated to him. He was no longer mine and I was no longer his. I felt broken, like I’d experienced a death. Why did it hurt so bad? I’d only known him a month. Why did it feel like my heart had been shredded? I cried harder. The mating probably didn’t even count because I was a Demon. I should have known it was too good to be true.
Men were bad. I will never forget that again. That was the only thing that my mother had ever been right about.
I would do my duty though. I would prove my worth to the King and do whatever I had to do to save him and his people, and then I would leave. I would fulfill my destiny as the Chosen One, and then I would disappear.
I would never lay eyes on the Prince of the North American Dominion again. I’d go to Europe or Australia, or maybe I’d die while I was saving everybody. I really didn’t care. My heart was broken and all I had left was my pride. He had already taken my heart. He could not have my pride. Ever.
“Asscrack?” Pam yelled, banging on my door. “Get your sorry butt out to the TV room, fast. We’ve got business to take care of and Jerry Springer comes on in thirty-eight minutes. So haul ass!”
God, I was happy to be home. I was safe. I knew what to expect here . . . Jerry Springer, swear words and unconditional love. I quickly changed into some awesome jeans, my favorite pale coffee-colored camisole, a thick brown belt and some rockin’ dark brown Doc Marten combat boots. With my pale skin and fangs, I looked very Vamp chic. I glanced back at the stilettos and the dress crumpled on the floor and felt my eyes fill up. Stop. I would not cry for him anymore.
Fashionably Dead Page 23
