Fashionably Hotter Than Hell: Book Six, The Hot Damned Series

by Robyn Peterman

  "As long as it's not her head she loses, then I'm fine with that. Just don't do it in front of my child," Ethan said. "Clear?"

  "Clear."

  It was a promise I didn't know if I could keep.

  Chapter 2

  "Me can't eat pie. Me a Vampyre just like you," Samuel explained to Raquel as I watched from my seat at the desk in Ethan's newly renovated office. I pretended to be absorbed in a folder filled with fighting techniques, but in truth, I was fighting to keep my eyes off Raquel.

  She was a witch and I was determined to break the psychotic spell she had on me. Clearly screwing her out of my system wasn't working. I'd been doing that for two hundred years with no clear end in sight. My pants were killing me at the moment. Embarrassing as it was, not even Samuel's presence could quell my desire.

  The furniture in the office had been replaced with finds from yard sales since we had destroyed a small fortune due to our skirmishes. The ragtag desks and chairs looked ridiculous in the grand office with the marble floors and cathedral ceilings, but it was a wise move on Ethan's part. Raquel and I obviously couldn’t be trusted around priceless objects.

  "It's not the kind of pie you eat," Raquel corrected him with a giggle and a kiss. "It's math. You can't eat math."

  Why didn't she ever giggle at anything I said? Why in the Hell did I care?

  I pressed my fingers to the bridge of my nose and went back to the paperwork in front of me. Astrid, my only, and least favorite, cousin right now, had decided Raquel and I would work with Samuel together. She reasoned it would force us not to kill each other.

  She was wrong.

  I knew if need be, I could distract Sammy with something shiny and dismember my foe in two seconds flat. The major problem with the scenario was that she could potentially do the same. I might outweigh and outmuscle her, but Raquel’s rabid desire to maim couldn't be discounted.

  She was equally dangerous to my concentration, my life and most definitely my libido.

  "Do you remember what I told you about pi? What a big number it is?" she asked Samuel as she pointed to a passage in a book.

  Sammy closed his eyes and slammed his chunky little hands over the numbers.

  "The first fifty numbers in dethimal digits are 3.1415926535 8979323846 2643383279 5028841971 6939937510. Is me right?" he asked as he peeked under his hand.

  "Um, yes," Raquel choked out. "How did you know that? We haven't learned that yet."

  "Me debided some stuff in my head, silly Raquel." He laughed and pulled on her red curls as he popped his thumb into his mouth with satisfaction.

  "Very good," she whispered as her eyes caught mine in shock.

  Did this kid even need us? Well, he needed me, but his brain was a sponge. Maybe Raquel could go back to her dungeon and leave me to work with Samuel.

  "Looks like he's smarter than you," I said as I got ready to duck in case the textbook came flying.

  "Looks like you're still an ass," she shot back.

  "Ass ass ass ass ass ass ass," Sammy chimed in gleefully as Raquel closed her eyes and dropped her head to the table in defeat.

  Damn it, that was my fault, not hers. She would not get in trouble for teaching him the word ass when I goaded her into it.

  "Samuel, an ass is a donkey—an animal similar to a horse. Aunt Raquel was referring to me as a strong and masterful horse with all of the massive parts that a horse has. She has hung a great honor on my head. Do you understand?" I asked.

  My double entendre was not lost on my enemy as she bit back a laugh and pretended to throw up. Grinning, I shrugged and blew her a kiss. Furthermore, I was not in the mood to be chastised for expanding his swearing vocabulary. His mother was doing just fine with that on her own.

  Raquel rolled her eyes dramatically and swallowed her grin. Amazingly, she threw nothing at me. Astrid had threatened to remove tongues if her boy learned new potty words. I liked my tongue… and God knew I liked hers.

  "Yes, Sammy," she agreed with me. "Heathcliff is a donkey. Donkeys are much smaller than horses in every way. In fact, many would call them puny—tiny, puny and inconsequential. Unable to satisfy the needs of anything."

  "That no make sense," Sammy said as he looked at me strangely.

  "Trust me, little man." Raquel laughed wickedly. "It makes perfect sense."

  It was a tie. God, she was fun to spar with. I couldn't remember the last time a woman had challenged me both in and out of the bedroom. Only problem was that we despised each other outside of the bedroom. Well, she despised me.

  "Let's get back to work, little man," she said as she cuddled him and opened a thin volume of poetry.

  "Raquel," Sammy whispered as he captured her face in his small hands. "Me love you so much."

  He covered her cheeks in wet kisses. I froze and I watched the adoration shine from her eyes. She was childlike in her delight—innocent and young.

  Something in my gut clenched. I didn't like it or want it. Raquel needed to stay cold and inhuman to me. I couldn't deal with anything more than what I perceived and wanted her to be—if I did it might destroy me. She pressed her forehead to his and held him tight.

  "You no have to sleep anymore," he told her. He traced the sprinkling of freckles on her nose with his little finger as she paled and gaped at him.

  "What?" she asked softly.

  "You can love and not sleep. It be okay. You have to trust, silly pretty auntie." He grinned as she shook her head in confusion.

  My eyes moved back and forth between a nodding Samuel and a shocked Raquel. What the Hell was going on here?

  "Samuel, what are you talking about?" Raquel’s mood changed abruptly. She turned tense and extremely uncomfortable.

  "You know." He giggled and buried his face in her neck. "It be time to stop sleeping. Too dangerous now."

  Her manner altered dramatically. She went from vulnerable and scared to strong and somewhat cold. Putting Samuel in the chair beside her, Raquel stood and paced. She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw me watching her.

  "You're still here," she stated with unhappy surprise.

  "Never left," I replied wondering what had just happened.

  Samuel watched us both with curiosity as she circled the room. He cocked his head to the side and winked at me.

  "Heathcwiff be the one to wake you up," he announced with conviction.

  "No," Raquel barked as Samuel ignored her and giggled. "Enough, Sammy. We are done for today. Heathcliff, please return him to his parents."

  With a mumbled goodbye, Raquel raced from the room.

  Closing the folder, I sat for a brief moment and pondered how to go about getting the information I wanted. No sleeping? I would wake her? What exactly did that mean?

  I slowly crossed the room to a very calm and composed Samuel. He looked quite pleased with himself. The puzzle was killing me.

  "Would you like to tell me what that was about?" I asked as I squatted in front of the boy genius. He raised his eyebrows and gave me a look so reminiscent of his father I had to stifle a laugh.

  "Is not Sammy's story to tell," he said as he put his thumb back in his mouth and watched me with narrowed eyes.

  "But you might save Raquel some time if you let me in on the secret," I said logically. How hard was it to pry something out of a six month old child?

  "You try to be tricky, Heathcwiff," Sammy yelled gleefully. "You no get me! Me too smart for you!"

  "That you are, my little man. That you are."

  ***

  “You’ve got a pole up your ass,” Astrid said. “And you need to pull it out.”

  “I beg your pardon?” Raquel asked, shocked.

  The voices halted me. I stilled in the hallway and backed away before I was discovered. They were in Astrid’s art studio with the door wide open. After having delivered Samuel to his father, I’d planned on sparring in the gym to release some of my pent up aggression. However, eavesdropping was far more fun.

  Rude? Yes.

  Inappropr
iate? Again, yes.

  Was I going to do it? Absolutely.

  Quickly cloaking myself in invisibility and hiding my scent, I joined the hen party and took a front row seat.

  “You need to loosen up and have some fun,” Astrid recommended.

  “I have fun,” Raquel protested.

  “Really?”

  “Um… yes,” the bane of my existence huffed.

  Astrid was on a mission and Raquel was her objective. I didn’t envy either of them at the moment—insane taskmaster and certifiable, albeit sexy, subject.

  “What do you do for fun? Astrid inquired as she poured over a Prada catalogue and dog-eared various pages.

  “Well, I…” Raquel stuttered. “You know, I… um”

  “Yep, well that’s definitely fun,” Astrid said with an exaggerated eye roll as she tossed the magazine aside.

  “Fine,” Raquel relented. “You’re correct. What do you suggest?”

  “Shopping,” Astrid stated firmly.

  “I’m a fabulous shopper,” Raquel shot back, clearly insulted.

  “True, true, true,” Astrid conceded. “What we need here is something more creative.”

  “Cooking?”

  “Dude, we’re dead—we don’t eat,” Astrid said sorrowfully.

  Invisibility let me react without fear of losing my head, so I grinned and rolled my eyes. We’d all heard ad nauseam about the massive hole that not being able to eat had left in Astrid’s life.

  “I’ve got it! Swearing,” Astrid shouted.

  Holy God Almighty, this was going to be good. I got comfortable and waited for the show to begin.

  “Swearing?” Raquel asked with a giggle.

  “Yes,” Astrid insisted as she stood to make her ludicrous point. Her excitement was contagious and it was all I could do not to reveal myself by laughing.

  “Umm, I’m not so sure…” Raquel said as she stood and gave Astrid a quick hug. “I have a few things I need to do.”

  “Sit,” Astrid commanded.

  Raquel did so with great reluctance. Unfortunately, she sat right next to me and her scent almost made me groan aloud. My need to touch her was dangerously close to becoming reality. That would certainly not go over well—at all. Slowly I eased myself up and planted my feet by the door in case the need to make a quick escape was necessary.

  “You need to let her rip. It’s invigorating and uses up tons of calories,” Astrid explained with a smirk and a covert wink to me.

  God damn it, I’d forgotten Astrid could see through cloaking. I sent her a pleading look and she winked again. I was clearly going to owe my cousin a big one.

  “We’re Vampyres—we don’t eat. Remember?” Raquel reminded her.

  “Damn it you’re right. But still it’s a good way to start.”

  “I already say inappropriate words,” Raquel argued and tossed her red curls.

  Astrid groaned and plopped down beside her in the seat I’d just vacated.

  Thank God I’d moved. She would have shoved me over and given me away for certain. Her evil little smirk was not lost on me—at all.

  “Right there is your first problem. They are not inappropriate words—they’re cuss words, dirty words, good old no-no’s.”

  “Profanities!” Raquel added with clasped hands and a blush, trying hard to please the nutbag guiding her.

  “A little better,” Astrid replied as she wrinkled her nose.

  It was fascinating to watch Raquel wrack her brain to come up with something that would impress her teacher. She was always so damned self-assured. I both liked and hated this carefree side of her, but I didn’t want to see her lighter side. It made everything even harder than it already was—pun intended.

  I waited to see what she would say. She’d most definitely sworn before—mainly at me—but she was nowhere near as creative and profane as my dear cousin.

  “Ass, damn it, hell,” Raquel recited hesitantly with another lovely blush.

  “Nope, nope, nope.” Astrid shook her head and took Raquel’s hands in her own. Repeat after me. Assmonkey, douche canoe, motherfucking turd knocker.”

  “Those are swear words?” Raquel asked with a wince.

  “No. Those are cuss words—the kind that makes your mother wash your mouth out with soap.”

  “I don’t have a mother anymore,” Raquel said quietly.

  “And thank God, Satan and Mother Nature, neither do I,” Astrid responded with a shudder. “But you get the gist?”

  “I do,” Raquel answered slowly. “But I think we need to find something else. I’m quite afraid I’d laugh if I said any of those things.”

  “You could practice in front of a mirror,” Astrid suggested in all seriousness.

  “That would be a fine idea if I had a reflection.”

  “Shit mother fuckballs,” Astrid shouted. “I always forget that one. Certain aspects of being a Vamp suck asscranks.”

  “Is that a real thing?”

  “Is what a real thing?” my cousin asked perplexed.

  “Um… asscranks,” Raquel replied with discomfort.

  Astrid thoughtfully considered her answer. “Nope, but it rolls off the tongue like butter, which is something else I really miss.”

  “Astrid, this won’t work.”

  “Probably not, but I dare you to let four cuss words fly from your mouth daily. It’s a scientific fact that those who swear are more trustworthy,” Astrid informed her.

  “It’s not nice to dare me and where did you read that? National Enquirer?”

  “Nope, I heard it on Housewives of Whateverthefuck, so that means it’s true,” Astrid said with a laugh. “Seriously, try it—you’ll like it.”

  “Four a day?” Raquel asked.

  “Yep.”

  “You’re on.”

  I slipped from the room with a stupid smile on my face, thankful my cousin didn’t reveal my pathetic stalking. What I wouldn’t have given to have been part of that conversation in corporeal form. God damn it, I wanted Raquel to see me—like me—laugh with me.

  I was an idiot. A huge fucking idiot.

  Chapter 3

  "If you stopped playing hide the salami with her, daring her to do stupid shit, and actually got to know her, you'd probably save us a lot of money in home furnishings," Astrid groused as she pulled me toward the Grand Ballroom. "I hate these fucking cocktail parties. I have several hundred years to go before I can drink anything but blood, so getting drunk is out. And most of these damn Vamps bore me to tears."

  "I have no clue what you mean," I insisted as I picked up my pace and tried to drag her into the ballroom so the conversation would end.

  Every so often Ethan threw formal parties for his people. With Raquel’s European assembly visiting, the soirees had been nonstop. However, Raquel rarely attended.

  "Give me a break. Anyone with ears, bionic or not, could hear you two boinking this morning. Quit yanking on my arm," she snapped. "You know you like her. I can tell. I noticed it when we offed all those Demons at the Caves a couple of months ago."

  Jesus, I didn't need this. "I do not like Raquel. She is rude and violent and… "

  "And smokin' hot and you totally like her. Nothing gets by me," she informed me with a huge grin. "I think she's your mate."

  "And I think you're smoking crack," I shot back.

  My mate? Bullshit. I didn't need a mate who would joyously kill me when my back was turned. I didn't need a mate who threw Ming vases for a hobby. I didn't need a mate at all. Period.

  I was single, lonely, and loving it. No. Wait. I was single and loving it.

  "I am not smoking crack, my very handsome cousin with the to-die-for dimples." Astrid grinned and punched me in the arm. "Can't breathe—can't smoke. That's how I got into this shit show to start with."

  Astrid had been turned into a Vampyre when she’d gone to a hypnotist to stop smoking and ended up undead. One of the strangest turnings I'd ever heard of, but what was done was done. She was clearly meant to be one of
us because she was a True Immortal.

  "Astrid," I said with a smile through clenched teeth. "While I appreciate your concern, Raquel is not my mate. I don't like the woman and she most definitely doesn't like me. I'd even go as far to say that she hates me. So I can assure there will be no mating any time in the near future."