Fashionably Dead

by Robyn Peterman

  “The fire we will start when we’re done in here.”

  “What about the humans that escaped?” I asked. The horrific image of my townsfolk all battered and bloody as we flew them to safety was stuck in my head, but that paled in comparison to Brad Pitt sobbing over Angelina lying dead and mutilated on the ground. I pushed the images away.

  To pay my respects to Samuel, I would stay strong. He always told me to cry hard and then get over it. After that, laugh heartily and go out and kill something. Ahhh, the logic of a very old Vampyre . . . I wasn’t sure I could do it, but I’d try. I had already cried. Now it was time to move on, laugh and kick some ass.

  “The humans have been tranced. They believe a fire broke out during the memorial and people got trapped,” Heathcliff said, briskly assessing the damage in the room.

  “What about bones and DNA and things left in the ash that could cause questions and lead to problems far bigger than what we’re dealing with here?” I had a hard time comprehending problems bigger than what I was looking at, but I knew they existed.

  “Don’t worry,” Heathcliff assured me. “There will be nothing left after this fire.” He glanced quickly at Gemma. “Are you stuck like that?”

  “Not sure.” She shrugged her massive shoulders.

  “Gem, where is The Kev?” I asked, still awed by her transformation.

  “He’s forbidden to come to me until I have completed the fourth Mortal String. I’m gonna go out on a limb and say I need to shift back before I’m done. I wish to God I knew how. I’m feeling a little self-conscious like this,” she giggled. It was beyond surreal to hear a huge, scaly monster giggle, but leave it to Gemma to make the stuff of nightmares appealing.

  “Okay then.” Heathcliff considered the options. “We could probably cover Gemma with those sheets draped over that . . . what is that?” he asked, referring to the mound on the far side of the room.

  “It’s a monument.” I shook my head. “I’d like to make it clear that I had nothing to do with it. My sister . . . or rather . . . ” I looked to the King. “Your dau . . . ”

  “We’ll discuss that later,” Heathcliff cut me off. “When we are sure.”

  He raised an eyebrow and I nodded. It would be cruel to say something to the King, if Julie wasn’t Juliet. Although the chances of that were slim to none.

  “Hey, I know,” Gemma volunteered. “I’m the size of a truck,” she laughed. “Just cover me and put me behind one of your vehicles and pretend to tow me back to the Cressida House.”

  “Good God almighty.” Venus threw her head back and let out a huge peal of laughter. “That I’ve gotta see.”

  “You had best not be laughing at me,” Gemma warned Venus, her silver-blue eyes twinkling. “I eat people.”

  Venus squealed and darted away from Gemma’s massive body. “I’ll go get your outfit,” she laughed as she ran to the other side of the room to retrieve the sheets.

  I tentatively let my lips curve into a smile. The moment I did, I felt Samuel’s spirit pass through me. It tickled and a small laugh escaped from my sad body. A warmth folded around me for a heartbeat and then floated away. I felt sure that Samuel would be hanging out with my Nana in Heaven. I knew I was going to be okay. Samuel would expect me to be okay.

  There was an audible gasp as Venus revealed the monument. It was the tomb. The tomb from my dreams. How was that possible?

  “My God.” The King was awestruck. “It looks like a crypt for a Queen. A Queen from when I was human.”

  I knew they were discussing the tomb, but I couldn’t hear them. All I could make out was static. A compulsion, stronger than any I’d ever known controlled me. 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. I knew my heart lay dormant in my body, but I would swear I felt it pounding in my chest. My stomach twisted and although I didn’t breathe I felt like I was suffocating. A gust of wind burst through the Town Hall and blew my hair wildly around my head. The sense of deja vu was chilling.

  “Push, Astrid,” she gasped. Oh my God, the lady was in the tomb.

  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 didn’t 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 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 she loved . . .

  A brilliant flash of light exploded as the tomb continued to crumble. I backed away as the light bounced around the room, momentarily blinding me. Streaks of red lightening zipped down from the ceiling, bathing the rubble in an angry pink glow. Where in the hell was the tomb lady?

  “Hello, Astrid,” a hollow voice rasped.

  “Mother?” I gasped. She was breathtaking, but there was something wild and untamed about her now. Unhinged might be a better term. Her pale green dress, stained with my blood, billowed around her. It was definitely my mother, but she appeared to be transparent.

  “In the flesh.” She flashed her teeth at me and gave a brittle laugh. “Well, almost.”

  “Are you a ghost?”

  “No, darling, I’m in between worlds . . . for the moment.”

  “Can I touch you?” I needed to touch her. I had always needed to touch her and I had prayed my entire life that one of these times she would want to touch me back.

  “With those filthy hands? I think not.” She gave me a withering stare. “Besides, as you can see, I’m not quite corporeal.”

  She leaned toward me with a real and gentle smile on her face. She was so pretty. My body tingled to be the recipient of that look. I reached for her. She reached for me and released a blast of red lightening from her hand. It grazed my shoulder, sending shock waves of excruciating pain through my body and bitch-slapped me back to the reality of the abusive relationship I’d always had with my mother. I refused to make a sound. How did that lightening get through my shield?

  “Whoops, sweetie.” She made a sad face. “Did that hurt?”

  I couldn’t speak. I wanted to scream in agony, but I refused to cry in front of her. I stood silently and watched her.

  “You see, Astrid,” she said, her voice clipped and business-like, “I have three hours to find someone. Someone very important to me.” She smiled and reached out to me. I flinched away. Her smile disappeared and her eyes turned cold and hard. “I need to borrow your body.”

  “What? No!” I was shocked. Fear and anger knotted up inside of me. She was not taking my body, whatever that meant. I was not the only one inhabiting my body right now and I sure as hell didn’t want her to know that.

  “You don’t have to be a bitch about it,” she hissed.

  Then from behind me, a pathetic chorus of voices began calling out.

  “Take mine.”

  “I’ll die for you, sweet mother.”

  “Take me, mommy.”

  “I am yours, mother.”

  “I love you.”

  The Rogues began wailing and moaning and crying. They were calling her Mother.

  Holy shit, she was their mother? They were the brothers and sisters Julie told me about?

  This was fucking fantastic. Those killing machines that ate people were my siblings? I’d bet a lot of money that we shared the same Demon King daddy. I felt ill.

  Her eyes whipped to the corner of the
room where the Rogues, her children, were chained. She gasped and quickly masked her astonishment and rage at their presence. She was such a good mother. Her tone was venomous. “You’re worthless,” she screamed at them. “Look at you chained like a common human.”

  Their wailing was pitiful. They were begging her to use them, to love them. I thought I had nothing in common with them, but I was wrong. We all wanted that monstrosity’s love.

  Her voice was low and calm. Truly terrifying. “None of you have accomplished what your sister has.” She pointed at me. They spat and bared their fangs. “I had such high hopes for all of you, but you failed me. For five hundred years I’ve been giving birth to you hideous creatures and I hate all of you.” She smiled at them. The wails increased to deafening volumes.

  “Shut up,” she screamed. She floated toward her children and they cowered in fear. “There, there . . . ” She gave them a hostile glare. “Don’t be frightened. All I ever wanted was for one of you to release me between my wretched mortal lives, but you were too stupid and useless to do it.”

  She shot lightening at two of them, severing their heads off. “God, that felt good!”

  Joy bubbled in her laugh and her eyes shone bright.

  “The stupidest and most worthless one of all accomplished what none of you could. Bow to her,” she shrieked, killing three of my brothers who dared to defy her. “Bow to the bitch. She has released me.”

  They bowed. I’d pretty much had all of her compliments that I could take. She was batshit crazy and I had to get rid of her. Except I had no idea how.

  “Are you a Demon?” I asked her.

  She pivoted mid-decapitation and gave me a lovely smile. “No, my sweet,” she cooed, “your daddy is a Demon. He’s Abbadon, King of the Demons.

  I glanced back. The Elite Guard had surrounded the King. They looked dull and colorless to me. They were cloaked. She couldn’t see them.

  “What about Julie, Mother?” The puzzle that was piecing itself together did not look good. “Is she really my sister? We look nothing alike.”

  “I know.” She eyed me with disdain. “Juliet is beautiful . . . hard to believe you’re sisters.”

  Why did her hatred still hurt? “We must have different fathers.” I tried to goad her into completing the picture.

  “Yes,” she sighed and looked wistful and lost. “She’s quite old.” My mother’s voice dripped with jealousy. “She’s immortal, just like you, Astrid.”

  “How old is she?” I asked. Please say a hundred or two hundred or even four hundred. Do not say five hundred or so. Do not let her be Ethan’s sister. Do not let my mother be the . . .

  “She’s five hundred and nineteen, isn’t she, Petra?” The King stepped out from behind the Elite Guard and shed his cloaking. He confronted the horrific creature that had given birth to me.

  “Brilliant,” Petra screamed in delight. “I don’t need your body after all,” she told me. “Astrid, Astrid . . . God, if I’d known you’d be so useful, I would have treated you better. You brought me what I wanted. You’re such a good girl!”

  Her eyes were wild and she shivered in anticipation.

  The puzzle came together in my mind with a sickening click. My mother was Petra, the banished wife of the King. Juliet was her daughter. Juliet was my sister. Juliet was Ethan’s sister. Which means I mated with my brother. Wait. Think . . . They have different mothers and we have different fathers so . . . I’m so confused, but I’m pretty sure that Ethan and I weren’t committing incest. His father was the Vampyre King and mine was the Demon King. His mother died in childbirth and mine was the psychotic bitch flying around the room trying to kill everybody and take over the world. We were safe. Thank you, Jesus. As relieved as I was that I hadn’t mated with a relative, I was also terrified that my lovely mother was getting ready to do some bad mamba jamba.

  “What do you want, Petra?” I asked, stepping between her and the King.

  “Isn’t it obvious, dear?” she replied sharply. “I want to live forever. I’m so sick and tired of dying and starting over, time after time,” she moaned. She was coming unhinged. I watched in fascination as her eyes turned black with fury. “What I’m really sick of is fucking your Demon father. I hate fucking Demons and producing worthless shit,” she screamed.

  Her eyes blazed with insanity. She flew on a gust of wind back to the Rogues who, despite her hatred of them, reached lovingly for her. “You are scum,” she spat as they sobbed. She laughed maniacally and blasted them with red lightening, killing all of them instantly.

  She wants to live forever. She wants the King. She wants . . . Oh shit, no.

  I unsheathed my katana and waited. She flew around me. I kept the King behind me the entire time. Heathcliff, Cathy, and Venus sprinted in and we had the King sandwiched between us. Gemma moved forward with Sir James and the rest of the Elite Guard drew their weapons.

  “Do you think you can kill me with your little toys?” She was positively gleeful. “I’m a spirit, you imbeciles. Watch,” she yelled. She ran her body through Sir James’ outstretched sword. Nothing happened. She was becoming more transparent with each passing moment.

  “Shit,” Cathy muttered.

  “Agreed,” Heathcliff whispered. “How in the hell do we kill her?”

  “Astrid, I think this is where you being the Chosen One comes in,” Venus said. My panic escalated.

  “Don’t forget,” the King added, “I know her quite well and I’m not helpless. I’m completely armed.”

  “With all due respect my Liege, not against a transparent flying psycho witch shooting red lightening out of her hands,” I said and I started to laugh. I tried to suppress it, but I couldn’t. The utter insanity of what was happening was too much. It was either laugh or freak out.

  We were Vampyres trying to kill what basically amounted to a ghost, who happened to be my mother and the former wife of the King. She wanted to drink the King’s blood, rip his heart out and eat him. Then she planned to take over the world with my Demon daddy, which besides being disgusting, was so not going to happen today.

  I had apparently been created for this exact moment and I had absolutely no idea what in the hell to do. I didn’t know how to kill her and therefore I couldn’t keep the King safe. I let my spirit leave my body and tried to enter her, but there was nothing to enter. My spirit floated through her as if she wasn’t there. If she was non-corporeal, how was she causing such damage?

  “I don’t have much time, Astrid,” she said through clenched teeth. “Move away from my husband, or I’ll kill everyone in the room.”

  “Can’t do that, Mom.” I decided on a new tactic. “Does my father know you don’t like to fuck him? God, I wouldn’t want to have sex with something that disgusting either. I don’t know how you did it for five hundred years.”

  She began to hiss and turn more transparent.

  “I don’t think he likes you much either, because after he beat the hell out of you, he stood there and watched while all of his friends ate you . . . and he laughed the whole time.”

  “Shut up,” she hissed. Her face hardened with rage and her flying became erratic.

  “It must suck to get knocked up century after century by someone who hates you. If memory serves, I believe he called you a bitch. Now that’s just not nice.”

  “I’ve had enough of this,” she shrieked. “Abaddon loves me.”

  She raised her hands in the air and red lightening rained down striking everywhere. I threw my body over the King. Heathcliff, Venus, and Cathy piled on top. Petra let out a piercing wail and wave after wave of dark Magic surged through the room. I couldn’t see or hear. The evil juju she was causing felt like icy pinpricks all over my skin. I knew I was screaming. I could feel the vibrations in my body. I had just lost the ability to hear it.

  Then it stopped. It was over. We all stood up and realized Petra was gone. So was the King.

  “Oh dear God, where is he?” Sir James began to frantically search the room for
the King.

  Cathy and Venus dug through the rubble while Heathcliff looked through the pile of dead Rogues.

  “Astrid,” Gemma said. “Where did she take him?”

  “I don’t know.” I dropped to the ground and hugged my knees to my chest.

  “Where are they?” Gemma asked again.

  “I told you I don’t know,” I ground out, my jaw clenched tight.

  “Yes, you do,” she said calmly. “Focus.”

  I closed my eyes tight, fighting against my desire to attack her. Why did she think I knew? They were all wrong. I was not the Chosen One. I was nothing.

  I tried to focus. On what? I didn’t know. I pushed everything out and let my spirit float freely inside of my own body. I had never done this before. The minute I relaxed, images raced through my mind like a crack addict channel surfing. Ethan’s smile, Nana’s eyes, Angelina Pitt’s scattered remains, Samuel’s middle finger, Ross’ Velcro hair, Abaddon’s claws, undulating Demons, Petra and the King surrounded by the gorgeous rocks at Diamond Caverns.

  “The caves,” I gasped. “She took him to Diamond Caverns, near the Portal to Hell.”

  “It will take at least thirty minutes flying at full speed,” Heathcliff said, tucking his dagger into his belt and readying himself.

  “He’ll be dead,” Sir James said.

  “It will take me thirty seconds and he will not be dead. It’s not his day to die,” I told them. I flung my arms out scattering Fairy Glitter everywhere and disappeared.

  ***

  Ethan burst through the doors of the Town Hall, followed by Luke, Princess Raquel and Princess Lelia. “We lost Juliet, but it’s definitely her.” He scanned the room quickly. “Where’s Astrid? Where’s my father?”

  “Queen Petra took your father to Diamond Caverns and Astrid transported after them,” Sir James told him.

  “Goddamn it.” Ethan turned to leave.

  “Ethan!” The serious tone of Sir James’ voice stopped him. “She’s pregnant.”

  Ethan blanched and everyone except Gemma gasped. “How? That’s not possible,” he whispered.