"Fine," I huffed, knowing full well I was a large part of the potty mouth problem. "Filthy freakin' language. Better?"
"Much." He chuckled as he grabbed me and buried his face in my neck. "If I don't get you alone soon our son will get a graphic lesson in sex education. I do believe we've already done enough damage without adding that."
"This is true," I said as my body perked up…well, mostly my nipples, my lady-bits and my imagination. "Where will we go?"
"Honestly, I don't care as long as there is no one within several miles so we won't be heard or interrupted."
I laughed and let my head fall back onto his strong chest. Ethan's hands tightened around my waist and his very happy and underused manly part pressed into my back. I moved away, much to both of our disappointment, but my brain didn't work well when he was too close.
"The Baby Demons are a huge no," I said as I mulled over the babysitter choices and silently promised my inner hooker she could come out and play soon. "I'm sure they taught Sammy about boobies. Satan and Mother Nature are also a no-go for obvious reasons. What about Heathcliff and Cathy?" I asked my other half, thinking about my distantly related Vampyre cousins.
"They're in Rome with their father searching for some priceless Vampyre Scrolls that have gone missing," Ethan said tightly.
"Who stole them?" I asked, happily wanting to hear about a problem I didn't cause and had nothing to do with.
"No clue, but we will find out. What about Paris Hilton or Dixie?" he asked as he advanced on me with a smirk that made my panties wet.
"Nope. They're in New York. Dixie wanted to see more of the country. She and Hayden took Janet, Carl and Myrtle with them too. Carl wants to perform on Broadway."
Not much rendered my mate silent, but this did. Carl, Janet and Myrtle were Demons. Carl was a hairy dude who enjoyed breakdancing and killing things. He also had a whopper of a lisp. His mate Janet was a doll who also was somewhat murderous and Myrtle was nuts. Not to mention Paris Hilton, my Vampyre buddy, could hold her own in Crazy-town. My beautiful cousin Dixie and her Angel of Death mate, Hayden, were going to have their hands full.
"Pam and my father?" he asked with his eyes closed. I was sure he was trying to erase Carl's performances from his head.
"They're in Africa straightening up some kind of Vamp and Angel mess down there."
"The Kev and Gemma?" Ethan was getting desperate. He'd adjusted himself in his jeans several times and his golden eyes had turned a sparkling green. My man wanted me bad.
I grinned and nodded. "That works for me."
"Sammy want Marfa and Jane," our little one yelled from his crib followed by a giggle that made my heart melt.
"Um, no, little man. Martha and Jane are…" I struggled for a word that meant crazy mother fucking cow asswankers without any swear words in it. Nothing came to mind.
Martha and Jane were old nasty bats. They had recently been turned into Vampyres when I had a very shortsighted moment of weakness. Some would call it compassion. I would label it a massive FUBAR blunder. They had been the bane of my existence for years when I was a human and taught art lessons at the Senior Center. However, when I saw them laying on the floor, bleeding out and dying from an attack by Rogue Demons, I let my compassion and inner-masochist out and had them turned into Vampyres. My reward was having to live with them for the rest of my very long life.
"Martha and Jane are very…you know…ummm." How could I word ass-munching bottom feeders so it wouldn't be offensive?
"Busy." Ethan saved me from God only knew what wanted to come flying from my mouth.
"Pweese, Mommy and Daddy? Me want Marfa and Jane. They funny," Sammy begged.
Motherhumpin' cowballs. How could I make this work? Holy Hell, he said pweese.
"How about Martha and Jane and The Kev and Gemma?" Ethan compromised.
Hmm, that was good, but it was still only two against two. I needed to outnumber the old buttwankers to feel comfortable. "And Venus," I added quickly.
Venus could kick their asses. The Kev and Gemma could too, but Venus would thoroughly enjoy it. Old Martha and Jane had highly offended my Vampyre BFF with their repeated references to her being Afro American. Not only were they grossly politically incorrect, they were stupid. Their sheer delight at drawing money from their pensions was repugnant when they knew the chances of them dying were slim. I was hoping they'd end up in the pokey for a few years.
I had learned recently that Vampyres had intricate systems for handling money. Every seventy-five years or so we had to obtain new Social Security cards and basically become a relative of ourselves. Slight name changes were necessary, but Vamps rarely used the new name unless they were dealing with humans. I stumbled upon this when I realized Ethan's driver’s license belonged to a man named Edwin. I patiently explained to him that I wouldn't play hide the salami or mechanical bull hump-fest with someone named Edwin. He promptly had his legal name changed back to Ethan.
There were several immortal banks, but they were run by Demons. Even being half Demon, I wouldn't let those bastards guard my lunch money. Hence, I would have to change my identity in about fifty years and keep my savings in a mortal bank. I had half a century to come up with a name for myself that wouldn't make me laugh.
"Do you think five babysitters will be sufficient?" Ethan inquired sardonically.
"No, but I'm willing to leave the compound without panties if we can make that happen."
"I'm on it," he said as he quickly began texting our gaggle of sitters.
"Me call Jane and Marfa," Samuel said as he bounced in his crib.
"Okay, little man, you do that. That will save Daddy some time and an eardrum." I giggled at my son's imagination until the old abominations appeared in a tangled heap on the floor at my feet. "What the fu…?" I screeched as I jumped back.
If I wasn't dead already, the sight of Martha and Jane in purple yoga pants with matching sequined boob tubes and brown orthopedics would have killed me violently. Not to mention the elastic wasn't working well and two of their torpedo tits were staring up at me. Glancing over at Ethan, I noticed he was staring at the ceiling and wincing in pain.
"Well, if it's not Boobs McGee," Martha grunted as she dragged herself and Jane to a standing position. They only stood about four foot eleven, but they were scary.
"My name is Astrid," I snapped. "Tuck those hanging sacks of wrinkly flesh back into your unfortunate fashion disasters. Immediately. How did you get here?" I demanded.
"Not a clue, Knockers McHooterland," Jane grumbled as she shoved her boob back into her tube. "I heard little Sammy's voice in my head and next thing I knew I was staring at your inflated melons."
"Her funbags do look larger," Martha said to Jane as they stared at my chest.
"I'm nursing, Shit for Brains," I hissed at them.
"Shit for Brains," Sammy shouted gleefully.
"Oh my hell," I moaned as the old geezers whipped their heads to Sammy in shock.
"He talks?" Jane asked.
"Yes, he talks. Hallway. Now." I pointed at the door and then followed the nasty ancient bags as they shuffled out of the room.
"So I see your Gerber Servers grew," Martha said as she hiked up her boob tube somewhere in the vicinity of her neck.
"What did you just call my girls?" My eyes narrowed and I bit down on my cheek to hold back my laugh. I refused to let on that they had made a good one.
She chuckled and pointed a bony finger at my chest. "Well, I could have said Super Big Gulps or Milk Jugs, but I went with…"
"I heard you," I snapped, realizing this could go on for hours. "Your obsession with my rack borders on lesbianism." Their indignant gasps made me grin. "However, I wouldn't want to give an entire group of lovely people a horrific name by adding you to it. I prefer to think of you both as asexual and firmly believe you were hatched by aliens—who then ate each other after they took a good look at the two of you."
"Well, I've never," Jane grumbled as I watched Martha try to f
igure out what I just said.
"Yes, you have. Now here's the deal. I don't want you here, but my son does. If I wasn't horny you two wouldn't be allowed to set a foot in my home. As you heard, Sammy speaks now so anything you say can and will be held against you when he repeats it to me. I'm talking I will remove your arms and legs. They will take at least six months to grow back due to your Vampyre age, not to mention you were both eighty-nine when I mistakenly had you turned. Are we clear?" I asked as I watched them closely.
"We will defend your child with our lives," Martha grunted as she puffed out her skinny chest and looked me in the eye. "I will kill the mother-fuck out of anything that looks at that beautiful boy sideways. Then I will skin it and suck all the blood out of it unless it's a Troll. Trolls taste like ass. We tried two of the randy bastards just to make sure and we will not be imbibing Troll again any time soon," Martha explained solemnly as Jane nodded in agreement.
"Um…" I tried to stop her, but she was on a roll.
"After I skin the assjacket and drain it…unless it's a fucking Troll…I will snap all the bones and shove them up their dead ass carcass."
"I enjoy shoving the bad guy's entrails down his throat before he's dead to watch him choke," Jane added unhelpfully. "I love that child even though he entered the world through your vagina. That was just the luck of the draw and he lost. We do not hold that against him and we will kill the shit out of anything that wants to harm him."
"Good to know," I croaked, trying not to gag and run. "However, that was entirely too much information and you almost made me puke, which is an impossibility for a Vampyre. Congrats."
"You're welcome." Jane preened and Martha smirked.
"Can you actually do any of that?" I asked, not wanting the answer but needing to make sure they could really defend my child.
"Ask the Trolls," Jane whispered as she gave me the thumbs up sign.
"And the Zombies," Martha added as she winked six or seven times, which made her look like she had an alarming tic. "They taste worse than ass, by the way."
"I got nothing," I muttered as I made my way back into the office where my mate and child thankfully had heard none of the fucked up conversation I'd just had. I was unaware Trolls and Zombies even existed. "Because you're insane and look like sparkling grapes that got run over by a Mack truck, I'm also having The Kev, Gemma and Venus help out tonight."
"The Afro American Vampyre?" Martha inquired.
I considered telling her for the umpteenth time how offensive that term was but refrained. First of all it wouldn't help. Plus, I was hoping Venus would kick their skinny, boney asses…or at least wash their mouths out with dish soap or lye. Maybe she'd remove their tongues—I wondered how long it would take a tongue to grow back. I'd have to ask Ethan later.
"Yep, that's her," I said and rolled my eyes.
"And the Fairy with his beard?" Jane asked.
"The Kev doesn't have a beard," I said as I picked up Sammy and began the short trek to his nursery.
"Your friend Gemma is his beard. He's as gay as a blade," she informed me.
"Gay as Mr. Brady from The Brady Bunch," Martha joined in.
"Homosexual as Doogie Howser."
“Faggy as “Benny and the Jets”."
"Or “Rocket Man”."
"Or Johnny Mathis."
"Oh my Uncle God," I shouted. "Shut the hell up or you have to leave. The Kev is not gay and Gemma is not a beard. He could turn you to dust with his eyes shut…so, um, go ahead and tell him what you think," I stuttered.
I was feeling only a little bad that I may get home after having at least fourteen orgasms with Ethan to learn Martha and Jane were no more.
"And what the hell has happened to you two idiots?" I demanded as I put Sammy in his exersaucer and handed him a dog bone to chew on. "You used to be rabid conservative Christians."
"We still are," Jane informed me proudly. "I'd pop Mitch McConnell's cherry so fast it would make your head spin."
I grabbed the side of the excersaucer so I didn't collapse in a fit of hysterics.
"I'm leaving," Ethan mumbled as he hightailed it out of the room. "Don't leave any blood when you kill them."
"Got it," I said.
"We've just become a little less uptight," Jane supplemented the heinous discussion we were having. "I'd do George W. in a heartbeat."
"You don't have a heart," I reminded her. "You’re a Vampyre."
"Yes, well," she agreed. "He's married to Laura and she's a babe with wonderful cantaloupes. So he's safe unless she croaks first."
"I'm getting glasses like Sarah Palin," Martha said.
Should I really leave my child with them? Probably not, but the way they were now cooing over him and making him giggle by tackling each other and making raspberry sounds with their mouths—I hoped—calmed me some.
"You two are not in charge and neither is Sammy. Whatever The Kev, Gemma or Venus says goes. Got it?"
"Yes," they grumbled.
"They'll be here in a minute and then I'm going to get laid. Can you douse fires and deal with wild animals?"
"Piece of cake," Martha bragged. "Just ask the Gnomes."
"Gnomes?" How in the Hell did I not know Gnomes were real?
"Taste like old poop and brussel sprouts," Jane said very seriously.
There was so much wrong with that statement I was speechless. Firstly, why did she know what old poop tasted like?
"What in the Sam Fucking Hill?" Martha screeched as she and Jane dropped to the floor in terror.
I ducked and smiled as a gust of delicious wind engulfed the room.
"Krumecaca," The Kev shouted as he and Gemma and Venus appeared in a blast of silver and pink glitter mist. "I am so excited to babysit my godchild!"
I turned to hug my friends and stopped short. "Really, The Kev? Really?" I was floored. He no longer looked like Arnold Schwarzenegger. Nope, he had now taken on the features of David Hasselhoff. He couldn't use his real body and face. His true beauty was blinding and it was almost impossible to look at him, but the Knight Rider? His taste was, as usual, appalling.
"You like?" he bellowed as he picked up Samuel and tossed a wildly happy child in the air.
"Um, no, but it doesn't matter what I think as long as Gemma's good with it." I laughed and shrugged.
"My man turns off the Hasselhoff when we're alone." Gemma grinned and waggled her eyebrows.
She was stunning, even more so than when she was simply human. My BFF since I was little was the Queen of the Fairies and the mate of The Kev. Their adoration for each other was almost sickening and if I wasn't so hung up on my own man, I'd be jealous.
"When are you guys going back to kooky-ass Fairyland to claim your throne?" I asked as I locked up all the stuffed animals I hadn't had to kill the other night.
"Little issue there," Gemma said as she planted kisses all over Sammy. "Seems the good Fairies of Xanthia want me dead. The Fairies no like-ee surprises and apparently I'm a big one."
"It will be fine," The Kev said quietly. Subdued was not in his playbook and I looked over in alarm. He shook his head at me and I held my tongue. He and I would be talking soon. I would not let my sister from another mister walk into a bloodbath no matter what was expected of her.
"Penus," Sammy yelled and pointed at a giggling Venus.
"Shit." I shrugged and laughed. "V's are hard."
"Shitshitshitshitshitshit!" Sammy squealed, much to my chagrin.
"Gotta watch your language," I muttered. If I could still blush, I'd be a tomato. "He's a repeater."
"I'll go with Penus," Venus said, still giggling.
"That works for me," Jane announced.
The grin disappeared from Venus' face so quickly even I jumped back. She advanced on Martha and Jane as they shrank in terror. It was all kinds of awesome. "You will call me Venus or I will tie you in a knot like a pretzel. It will not be remotely enjoyable and I will leave you in this configuration for at least a month…possibly two. You got tha
t?" she snarled.
"Yep," a very nervous Jane mumbled as Martha nodded vigorously beside her.
"Alright then, hand me that baby, Gemma. I haven't seen his gorgeous face in two days," Venus said as she snuggled the light of my life.
I felt fine. Actually, I felt good. I realized I wasn't nervous about leaving Sammy. Part of me didn't want to go because I feared missing something. With his bizarrely rapid growth rate, he could be a teenager by the time I got home this evening. However, I was horny—not a little horny. A lot horny. Like I would explode if I didn't get laid soon horny. The thought of being alone with Ethan made my knees weak and my panties wet. Plus, Ethan was correct. If we didn't get some alone time there was no telling what would happen in front of our son…
Fashionably Dead in Diapers Page 2
