Fashionably Forever After: Book Ten, The Hot Damned Series

by Robyn Peterman

  “One of the many fucking problems is that Elle can’t live without her soul for more than a hundred years.”

  Mother Nature stopped and stared in confusion. “Why is that a problem?”

  Not really wanting to admit my devious sleight of hand, I realized I had to. This felt like fucking confession—more my brother’s thing than mine.

  “I didn’t give it back to her,” I admitted sheepishly.

  “What the Hell did you do with it?” she asked.

  “I kept it,” I snapped. “I gave her a soul. I just didn’t give her the correct soul.”

  My mother was silent for a long moment. A rainbow of glitter burst from her body and bathed the garden in sparkles. I wasn’t sure if she was going to electrocute me for my sin or if she was going to laugh. With her, one never knew.

  “And whose soul did you give her?”

  “Mine,” I told her. “I gave her my soul and kept hers. There was no way in Hell I was letting her get away from me. She’s mine. I figured if I had her soul and she had mine, she’d eventually have to come back and get hers. At that time I plan to chain her to me for the rest of eternity. It’s not a bad plan.”

  “It’s a dreadful plan,” she chastised me. “But you may have done yourself a huge favor with your deviousness this time.”

  “How?” I asked, feeling hope for the first time today.

  “Tell me this,” she said with her eyes starting to shine.

  I wasn’t sure if she was feeling excitement or insanity, but I didn’t care. If she had a plan I was going with it—no matter how crazy.

  “Do you need a Siren to get to Kismet?” she asked.

  “Yes. From what I understand only a Siren can go home to Kismet.”

  “Oh, Dorothy,” Mother Nature said with a laugh that set her gardens alight with peach and gold magic. “You’ve had the power to go home all along.”

  “First of all, my name is not Dorothy. It’s Lucifer, Satan, Beelzebub, Dark Lord, Devil, Harbinger of Evil, Sexy Bastard or Uncle Fucker—not Dorothy. Secondly, what the Hell are you babbling about?” I growled.

  “Adrielle Rinoa’s soul will take you to Kismet,” she announced as she danced around like a nutbag.

  “How?”

  She paused her appalling gyrating and smiled. My mother was so lovely it was almost blinding. Her power literally poured from her and the flowers and tress swayed giddily with the enchantment.

  “You will put Elle’s soul into your body. Kismet will accept you because you have become part Siren. The soul will know the way home.”

  “I think I love you,” I said, before I could stop myself.

  “What did you just say?” my mother screamed gleefully.

  “Nothing,” I hissed, trying not to grin. “I didn’t mean it.”

  “You love me,” she crowed as a solid gold stripper pole burst from the earth scaring the living daylights out of the teal monkeys that had gathered in the garden. “I feel like dancing. Won’t you join me… son who loves me?”

  “I’ll take a rain check—forever,” I said with a chuckle and shake of my head. “I have some business to attend to. And if you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to keep this conversation between us. You know—the cone of fucking silence?”

  “I won’t say a word about Elle. I promise,” she said as she hopped ungracefully onto her pole and slid to the ground with a thud. “However, I plan to take out an ad in the Immortal Gazette that you love me.”

  With a deep breath followed by a guttural moan, I let my head fall forward in defeat. My mother always got the last word. And she probably always would.

  Honestly, what did I care if the world knew I loved my mother? I was becoming a changed man. I would always be evil, but anything in its true form was dull. I was an evil son of a bitch with a semi-soft side. I would never be dull.

  The Devil wore Prada. The Devil had feelings. The Devil was still a duplicitous asshole.

  A devastatingly sexy combination.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “You are one sexy bastard,” I said, staring at myself in the bathroom mirror with a wide grin. Lizard was correct about me playing myself in the film. No one could hold a candle to me.

  Apparently, it had taken two packs of gum to convince the Sal and Maury, but in the end they were thrilled that Blade Inferno would be playing himself—or at least they thought they were. Once the effects of the gum wore off I imagine they were going to be less than ecstatic at the exorbitant price they’d agreed to for my services. Of course, I’d closed my eyes in pain when Lizard announced that my mother had chosen to go by the name Gaia DeGoddess in the movie, but it was somehow fitting. Mother Nature was a hot mess. I was certain a pole dancing scene would somehow end up in my life story.

  I was dying to know how put out God was since he’d never been asked to play himself. I mean for the love of everything embarrassing, George Burns had played my brother. George was actually an amusing sort. An excellent cheater at blackjack—George liked to tape aces under the table before the game—but I sure as Hell wouldn’t want him to portray me. Whatever. Worrying about my brother wasn’t on my agenda. Ever.

  Glancing at the pile of clothes on the floor, I sighed. It never took me this long to figure out what to wear. Standard black custom Armani was my usual fare, but today I was indecisive. And black somehow wasn’t working for me the way it usually did. Odd.

  “Just pick something,” I muttered to myself, standing naked in front of the ever growing, obscenely expensive pile of fabric on the floor.

  Putting Elle’s soul into my body had been as simple as removing my own. I’d held it to my heart and willed it to enter. The sensation was positively orgasmic. I wanted to touch myself all over—so I did for about twenty minutes until I remembered I actually had things to do like save the fucking world.

  And what the Hell was the problem with my hair today? I was half tempted to style it into a man bun. What the fuck? The Harbinger of Evil didn’t wear his hair in a goddamned man bun.

  “I look nice in red,” I told my reflection. “But red is such a cliché color for the Devil to wear. Stick with black. Black is commanding and sexy.”

  Changing labels might help. I’d just procured a brand new Hugo Boss straight off the runway in Milan, but even the superbly cut suit didn’t feel right. Something silkier seemed more appropriate for Kismet. However, silky wasn’t exactly in my wardrobe.

  No matter. That’s what magic was for.

  Taking one final look at myself in the mirror. I smiled and kissed my reflection.

  It was very good to be me.

  As I entered the parlor in the Dark Palace all conversation stopped. My Demons stared at me with their mouths agape. I knew I was a stunning son of a bitch, but this was an unusually outstanding reception. I suppose the extra time I’d spent getting ready had paid off.

  As I made my way through the gathering of my top generals and staff, I spotted The Kev, The Shelia, Gemma, Lizard, Astrid and Tiara sitting together at the far end of the room. Their reaction to my beauty was even more extreme than my Demons. I smiled and waved.

  Today was going to be fantastic.

  “Umm… Uncle Fucker, are you okay?” Astrid asked, biting on her lip so hard I was certain she would pierce it with her teeth.

  “Splendid. And yourself?” I inquired as I took a seat on the rich black leather couch and tucked my feet into a lovely position angled to the right. It definitely made me look slimmer to sit like this. “Why do you ask?”

  “Because… you… um, well,” Tiara stuttered going a bit pale.

  “I what?” I demanded.

  I knew I was devastatingly handsome, but this was ridiculous.

  “You’re wearing purple,” Astrid whispered, choking back what was definitely a laugh.

  “I am?” I asked, shocked.

  “And lipstick,” Tiara choked out, unable to hide her giggle.

  “And pumps,” The Shelia added, grinning like a fool.

  “I most certa
inly am not,” I bellowed, waving my hand and producing a mirror.

  Glancing at my reflection, I froze in horror. They were correct. How in the Hell had this happened? I looked like a bad cross-dresser at a Mardi Gras parade. I mean, a very good looking cross dresser, but a cross dresser nonetheless.

  “What the ever loving fuck?” I shouted, throwing the mirror to the ornate marble floor and crushing it under my lavender pump.

  My lavender pump? Had Hell frozen over and I didn’t know it? And why was I wearing pumps? Strappy stilettos were far more flattering. Oh my Hell. I’d lost my mind…

  “There seems to be some mistake here,” I said with a chuckle to hide my mortification. “Just give me a second.”

  With a wave of my hand I re-dressed myself. From the expressions on my guest’s faces, I hadn’t gotten it right yet.

  “Not good?” I asked, terrified to look down.

  “Well, umm… if you like eggplant colored lingerie and white feathered mules I guess it works,” Astrid said, unable to close her mouth after her comment.

  It hung open. I could see her damned tonsils along with everyone else’s.

  “Did something happen?” The Kev inquired politely. He was clearly trying to be diplomatic while staring straight at my face. His eyes didn’t stray from mine.

  I knew that game. I played it all the time with my mother when her outfit was so appalling I was terrified I’d laugh and end up getting electrocuted.

  Closing my eyes for a brief second, I pretended if I couldn’t see them then they couldn’t see me. From the chorus of snickers floating around the room, my ploy wasn’t working.

  “I put Elle’s soul inside me,” I ground out through clenched teeth. “It’s the only way to get to Kismet. Clearly, I wasn’t aware that cross-dressing was a fucking side effect.”

  “You look lovely in Elle’s colors at least,” Astrid offered, grinning from ear to ear.

  “Word to the wise,” The Shelia said, patting my hand. “Kismet is made of ice. You’re going to freeze your nuts off in that little number.”

  Breathing deeply, I tried once again to dress myself more appropriately. I failed epically if the uproarious laughter was anything to go by.

  “It’s better,” Tiara insisted, before I blew Hell to smithereens in my vexation. “I swear it is.”

  Glancing down with trepidation, I had to admit my niece was correct… but not by much. The lavender suede pants hugged me like a second skin. At least I could tell they were expensive and the blueberry off the shoulder cashmere sweater was comfortable. However, the glittering purple Ugg boots almost did me in.

  “I think it best that we ignore my fashion sense for the next few hours,” I said tersely, daring anyone to comment. “It would not be productive if I cremated everyone in Hell today. Do you feel me?”

  They nodded.

  I was fine. I could deal with this appalling situation if it meant I could get Elle back. However, she might not want to come back when she saw me like this. Whatever, I was still hot.

  “Are we ready?” I asked.

  “We are,” The Kev said, taking both Gemma’s and his sister’s hands in his while still staring directly at my face.

  “Lizard?” I asked, ignoring the need to dismember The Kev.

  He nodded mutely. The Demon had stayed silent through my mortifying ordeal. He was a smart man.

  “Astrid and Tiara, I’d like you to keep an eye on Hell while I’m gone. I do not—under any circumstances—want the Seven Deadly Sins in charge. My daughters are idiots and I don’t want Hell to be in disarray when I bring Elle back with me.”

  “We’re on it,” Astrid said with a thumbs up and a mischievous grin. “Don’t worry about a thing.”

  Her words made me somewhat uneasy, but I knew my nieces could be trusted—which was far more than I could say for my daughters. Well, except Dixie, but she was busy with that annoying Angel of Death. As lovely as my favorite daughter was, she had appalling taste in men.

  “How do we do this?” The Kev asked the same question I’d been asking myself.

  “I have no fucking idea,” I replied truthfully. “I’d suggest hanging on like your immortal lives depended on it. I’ll treat it like a transport.”

  “This is a horrifying idea,” The Shelia muttered, grabbing onto my cashmere sweater.

  I bit down on my tongue hard when I realized I was about to warn her not to stretch it. I needed to find Elle quickly. I wasn’t sure I was going to survive my appalling lack of fashion sense.

  “Will we be able to come back?” Gemma asked.

  An annoying but legitimate question.

  “How did you get back?” I asked The Shelia.

  “Elle opened a portal and sent me home,” she replied.

  “And there you have your answer,” I told Gemma. “Elle will take us home and come back to me. Period.”

  “And if we can’t reach Elle?” The Kev pressed.

  “Unacceptable,” I snapped. “The far reaching ramifications of not finding Elle and her mother will result in the end of the world. Fate has lost her mind and her direction. It shall no longer be tolerated.”

  “That certainly puts a new spin on the mission,” The Kev said in tone that made very clear how powerful he was.

  “Dude,” Gemma yelled, gaping at me with wide eyes. “The end of the world? Seriously?”

  “As a heart attack,” I replied shortly and then huffed out a put upon sigh. Working alone was so much less complicated, but Elle had said no man is an island. I took that to mean I needed backup. “So are we finally ready?”

  “Born ready,” Lizard grunted, choking up on his bat and bouncing on his feet.

  The Kev looked to Gemma and his sister. When they both silently mouthed the word yes, he turned to me and jerked his head in a curt nod.

  “On three,” I directed.

  “Wait,” Astrid insisted frantically.

  “What?” I shouted, completely frustrated.

  “You have lipstick on your teeth. Do this,” she instructed, putting her pointer finger in her mouth, wrapping her lips around it and pulling it out.

  “That’s obscene,” I hissed with an eye roll. “Why would I do that?”

  “It gets the lipstick off the inner part of your lips,” Gemma said, valiantly swallowing her laughter that was so close to the surface I could feel it. “Keeps the lipstick off your teeth.”

  “This is true?” I demanded of Tiara. She usually told the truth. I was not going to be punked into sucking on my own finger for the pleasure of my deranged company. It was appalling enough to know I was wearing women’s clothes.

  “It is,” Tiara said. “I promise. Do you want us to look away?”

  It was a considerate request and one I appreciated. However, if I showed weakness it wouldn’t be prudent. I would lick my damned finger in full view of everyone present. I was the Devil. Nothing embarrassed me. Well… that was a fucking lie, but I was very adept at lying.

  “No,” I replied tersely, mimicking Astrid’s move. “Did I get it?” I asked, showing my teeth.

  “Yep,” Astrid said with a laugh. “Just remember to suck the finger when you reapply.”

  Closing my eyes, I nodded and wondered if I needed to reapply now… Had I removed the lipstick on the outer part of my lips? That would be bad…

  Motherfucker. What was happening to me?

  Before I could electrocute or dismember myself, I pushed all thoughts of my makeup away. Offing myself was next to impossible, but if thoughts of lipstick kept running through my brain I was going to give it a try.

  “One. Two. Three,” I said as dark magic mixed with glittering threads of purple blasted through the room. My onyx black wings burst from my back and my small but powerful posse held on for all they were worth.

  Fate had no clue what was about to happen to her. I didn’t actually know either, but I was quite certain it wouldn’t bode well for the bitch. I just really hoped my wings hadn’t ruined my sweater. That would suck.<
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  Chapter Fifteen

  “Holy Hell on Christmas,” Gemma gasped out as we landed on an ice covered tundra in an explosion of black fire and crackling glitter laced wind.

  Her words were apt if not a bit of an oxymoron. Kismet was a bleak frozen landscape of the starkest beauty I’d ever witnessed. The sun was blindingly bright and bounced off the ice making it look like the land was layered with priceless dripping diamonds. There was a chill in the air different from anything I’d experienced and a feeling of despair floated on the cool breeze.

  An enormous mountain range of razor sharp glaciers stood majestically in the distance. They were clear, sparkling, crystal ice—not any color in sight. The land was cold in every way imaginable. How life existed here was an enigma to me. I would think the land of the Sirens would be lush and gorgeous.

  “Is this what you remember of Kismet?” I asked The Shelia who was as awestruck as the rest of us.

  “No. I recall an incredible Ice Palace. I’ve never been to this area,” she said, narrowing her eyes at something on the horizon.

  “What do you see?” I asked, glancing in the direction of her gaze.

  She shook her head and shuddered. “Nothing. I thought I saw something, but there’s nothing there.”

  “Do we know where the Ice Palace is located?” The Kev asked, keeping Gemma close at his side.

  “No. I don’t even know how time runs here,” I stated the facts as I knew them. “All I know is that Elle and Sadie are here. This is the home of the Sirens and Fate has frozen them in an eternal enchantment.”

  “Are we going to rescue all the Sirens?” The Shelia asked.

  Shrugging, I gave her a grim smile. “If it’s convenient or they can help us, yes. If not, no.”

  “That’s awfully cold of you, Devil,” The Shelia commented. “I’d think you’d want to save them. They’re a notoriously bad bunch—right up your alley.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment,” I said.

  “Wasn’t meant as one,” she shot back.

  “Yes. I know.”

  “No bickering,” The Kev chastised us as if we were children. “We work as a unit or we die. Is anyone having issues with l’appel du vide?”