Fashionably Dead and Wed Book 7

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Fashionably Dead and Wed Book 7 Page 6

by Robyn Peterman


  That’s when the foul-mouthed penguins brought my son into the room.

  Chapter 6

  “Nuns are raising your child?” Trista demanded, completely outraged. “Immortals are as unholy as they come.”

  “Speak for yourself,” Pam muttered, insulted.

  “Seriously? Nuns?” Mary sneered as she examined Samuel with far too much interest for my liking from across the room.

  My family was as surprised as the four unwelcome guests at the entrance of the ancient Sisters, but amazingly kept their faces poker straight.

  I loved my weird family.

  “Looks that way,” I answered as I made the sign of the cross and bowed to the warily confused Martha and Jane. “Sister Martha and Sister Jane, our guests don’t believe that Samuel is Ethan’s and my son.”

  I took my nine-month old baby who was roughly the size of a small five year old from the arms of Jane and covered his face in kisses. His giggle made the world right in an instant, even though much of it seemed to be spiraling out of control.

  “What kind of bull-honkey horseshit is that?” Martha demanded as she slapped her bony hands on her habit-covered hips. “That boy is definitely your child. He cusses like a damned sailor and is the spittin’ image of his daddy.”

  “You got that right. He called Sister Martha here an asshat-douchecanoe not even five minutes ago,” Jane volunteered with a thumbs-up to my child.

  This wasn’t going exactly as I’d envisioned, but nothing did when Martha and Jane were involved. I would have preferred to keep my potty mouth under wraps, but at least our guests were thrown off their game. Maybe we could knock them left of center enough to figure out if they were involved in the portal mess.

  “Exactly what kind of nuns are you?” Trista inquired as she crossed her arms over her ample chest and pursed her lips in a revolting duckface.

  There was a short uncomfortable silence while I racked my brain and tried to remember a name of an order, but unfortunately the old bags beat me to it.

  “Republican,” Jane announced to the now stunned silent group. “We’re Republican nuns from the order of…”

  “Bushjeb,” Martha finished with a curt nod.

  “It’s a secret order,” Pam explained with a pious expression.

  As Pam was an Angel, there was very little the distrusting Vamps could argue. I wasn’t quite sure how my family kept straight faces. It was all I could do not to squeal with laughter.

  “But they’re Vampyres,” Francisco spoke up for the first time. “I have never in my four hundred years come across an undead nun.”

  “Yes, well there’s a first time for everything,” Ethan said tightly as he went to escort our un-holy nannies from the room. “Sister Martha and Sister Jane, your presence is no longer required. You’re dismissed.”

  “To pray,” I added quickly.

  “Um… okay,” Martha said as she made a clumsy sign of the cross that resembled a performance of Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes.

  “I’d like to suggest that you all pray with your rosemary and ask Astrid’s Uncle God and Cousin Asian Female Jesus for forgiveness for doubting the existence of the Second Coming of Buddha Jones,” Jane added primly, not to be outdone by Martha’s butchered genuflecting.

  “I’m sorry, what did you just say?” Spike asked, genuinely perplexed.

  “She’s drunk,” I told Spike. I covertly flicked my fingers and sealed Martha and Jane’s mouths shut before they could say something even stupider. I wasn’t sure what could be more idiotic than what they had already said, but I was taking no chances.

  Their religious upbringing was as fucked up as they were and since it was tremendously difficult for Vampyres to tie one on, my excuse was a little fucked up as well.

  I handed off Samuel to Raquel, hustled Martha and Jane from the room and shoved them into the hallway shutting the door behind me.

  “What in tarnation was that?” Martha whispered, wide eyed as I waved my hand and unsealed their lips.

  “It was a clusterfuck,” I whispered back. “Just go with it.”

  “Will do, but I think after that we should be able to wear booty shorts, Knockers McChesticle,” Jane bargained with a smirk.

  “Fine,” I hissed as quietly as I could. “You can wear them under your habits.”

  “Boob tubes?”

  “Under the habits,” I said, caving. “However, from now on when strange Vampyres are around you have to be from an order that has taken a vow of silence.”

  “Define strange,” Jane said, squinting her eyes at me in confusion.

  “Just don’t speak. Ever.”

  “But the Bushjebs are talkers,” Martha said.

  “The Bushjebs don’t exist,” I shot back.

  “Pam said they did,” Jane reasoned. “She’s an Angel. She would know these things.”

  “Oh my God,” I muttered. “Go to your rooms and don’t come out until I get you.”

  “We’re grounded?” Jane whined.

  “Just go,” I snapped as I attempted to pull myself back together.

  They waddled down the hall looking like deranged penguins. Deciding a prayer might be a good idea, I mouthed a quick apology to my Uncle God for letting Martha and Jane impersonate nuns, and then reentered the party.

  “Sorry about that,” I mumbled. I quickly retrieved my son and took my place beside Ethan—much to Mary’s displeasure. “Sister Martha and Sister Jane are um…”

  “Not really nuns?” Spike suggested helpfully with a grin pulling at his lips.

  “Why would you say that?” I asked, avoiding eye contact as I unnecessarily straightened Samuel’s Scooby Doo t-shirt.

  “Well, praying with a rosemary and Buddha Jones for a start,” he replied.

  “Cousin Asian Female Jesus?” Trista added with a twinkle in her eye.

  “That part is actually true,” I admitted thinking maybe Trista might be okay. “And no, they’re not nuns. It’s a punishment.”

  “I’m not following,” Trista said, staring at Samuel with longing.

  I pulled my baby tighter to me, but I understood her envy. Vampyres could not have children. We live forever and ever, but are incapable of reproduction. The simple fact Ethan and I had been blessed with Samuel was unexplainable other than it was fulfillment of the prophecy and I was a freak of nature.

  “They normally dress inappropriately,” Ethan said mildly as he sat back down to bring the meeting back to order.

  “Habits aren’t inappropriate?” Francisco asked as he too stared at Samuel with fascination.

  “Nope. They normally wear assless chaps, booty shorts or boob tubes,” I replied, walking toward the curious Vampyres with my child in my arms. “You can touch him.”

  “Really?” Trista whispered reverently.

  Spike and Francisco stepped up to get in line, but Mary stayed back. She was clearly unhappy that Ethan wasn’t her darling anymore.

  Tough shit.

  “Yep, but Samuel bites and if he senses you’re evil or mean me harm he’ll turn you into a small green gob of stinky goo,” I warned.

  “Silly Mommy!” Samuel yelled gleefully as he took in the occupants of the room. “Me do no such thing.”

  The Vampyres backed away as a precaution, but my baby’s reply calmed them.

  “How old is he?” Spike asked as he approached and held out his hand to Samuel.

  “Nine months,” I replied. “His intellect is that of an adult and he grows so rapidly we can’t keep up, but he’s still just a child.”

  Samuel took Spike’s hand into his chubby one and searched the Vampyre’s face intently. Spike cocked his head to the side and smiled at the scrutiny.

  “Do I pass?” he asked, speaking directly to Samuel.

  “Yes,” Samuel said grinning. “You will play soccer wif me.”

  Spike was stunned for a brief moment and then barked out a laugh. “What else can you see, little man?”

  “Enough,” Ethan said tersely. “You’ve see
n my child. He is the natural child of Astrid and me. You are free to tell our people he exists and nothing more. Am I clear?”

  “You are,” Spike said with a respectful nod and the others followed suit.

  “This meeting is adjourned until tomorrow morning. Venus, please show our guests to their suites,” Ethan instructed abruptly.

  “Yes, sire,” Venus replied as she opened the door and waited for the entourage to exit with her hand placed very purposely on her sword.

  “It was a pleasure to see the child,” Trista said with a bow to Ethan and me. “I’d love to spend some time with him if you will allow it.”

  “We shall see,” Ethan said in a cool tone as he took Samuel from me and went back behind his desk. “I do appreciate your concerns. However, I’m not convinced you four are not part of the problem. Please tread lightly and don’t do anything that will make me lose sleep by having to kill you.”

  “And on that note, I shall take my leave,” Spike said with a deep bow. “I believe there’s a Twilight marathon on HBO this fine evening.”

  No one blinked an eye at Spike’s announcement and they all filed out. Mary was the last one to leave and gave Ethan a lingering hungry look that he missed because he was busy cuddling Samuel. However, I didn’t miss it. She was chapping my ass.

  As the door closed behind them, Pam heaved out a huge sigh of relief that made me jealous I couldn’t breathe.

  “Well, who in the fuck thought dressing Martha and Jane up as nuns was a good idea?” Pam asked as she got to her feet and took Samuel from Ethan.

  “Watch your damn language in front of the baby,” I admonished her. “I punished Martha and Jane for accidentally opening a portal full of Demons. They have to wear clothing that covers their bodies until further notice. I thought the nun thing was pretty funny until it became a reality,” I mumbled, avoiding Ethan’s I told you so look.

  “I thought it was rather delightful,” Gareth said as he sat down on the couch in exhaustion. “I’m not sure I’ll attend anymore of these meetings. I think my presence might weaken us.”

  “No,” Heathcliff disagreed. He took Raquel’s hand and crossed to Gareth. “We’re weaker if we hide you. Gossip travels quickly and we don’t need it getting out that you’ve gone into seclusion or you’re dead. Trust me, the entire population will hear of this evening and that you were part of it.”

  “And that’s a good thing?” the King asked worriedly.

  “It is. We don’t need our people believing their leaders are dying off. The Royal Family has enough real problems at the moment. We don’t need any false ones floating around,” Ethan said and then turned his attention to our happily babbling son. “Samuel, how did you know that Spike played soccer?”

  “Spike really plays soccer?” I asked, alarmed. I thought maybe Samuel had just guessed.

  Shit.

  “He did,” Ethan confirmed. “He’s been an Olympian many times over. His gift is morphing. He can take on other’s forms—which in turn makes it possible for him to play soccer at a high level for many years and not get caught.”

  “He morphs like Jean Paul,” Raquel added.

  Jean Paul was Raquel’s half-brother that she’d turned centuries ago. He’d recently voluntarily morphed into my insane sister Juliette when we were trying to trap and catch Vlad—aka Dracula. The move had failed, but because of witnessing Vlad’s unforgivable murderous transgressions, the Angels now believed that he needed to be eliminated. The Holy Whack Jobs were hunting him just like we were. Of course they had more at stake considering one of their own was responsible for placing the curse for Vlad that was killing Gareth, Leila, Nathan and Alexander. It was a big fat immortal clusterfuck.

  “I find it offensive that you Americans call football, soccer,” Gareth said with a wince of distaste.

  “Whatever, I’m still stuck on the fact that Spike could potentially turn himself into one of us,” I muttered with concern. “Was he as good a soccer player as Pele?”

  “He was Pele,” Ethan answered.

  “Sorry? I’m pretty sure Pele is still alive.”

  “He is,” the King said with a grin. “Spike just played a good portion of his games during his career.”

  “Does Pele know this?” I asked trying to wrap my head around the bizarre ways my people found to amuse themselves.

  “Of course he does,” Raquel explained. “He’s a Unicorn.”

  “Shut the front fucking door,” I shouted. “Two Unicorns in one day?”

  “Fucking door,” Samuel squealed with glee as I slapped my hand over my offensive mouth.

  Politely ignoring my faux pas with only a tiny eye roll, Ethan stuck to the matter at hand. “Who else is a Unicorn?” he inquired as he fished a roll of duct tape from a drawer in his desk.

  “Steve Perry is a Unicorn,” I told him as I took the tape and ripped off a large piece.

  “Well that certainly explains why he didn’t have to be institutionalized after his Christmas abduction,” Ethan commented wryly. “However, I’m not quite done with our little man. Samuel, could you tell that Spike played soccer by touching him?”

  “Yes, Daddy! Me tell lots of things by touching people.”

  “Shit,” I mumbled as my body dropped like a sack of potatoes into the oversized leather chair next to Ethan’s desk.

  My child’s scary talents grew by the day. No, make that by the hour…

  “Shit,” Samuel yelled and then pumped his hands over his head in victory.

  With a groan of defeat, I slapped the tape over my mouth and sunk lower into the soft leather. I was a True Immortal. I was virtually impossible to kill. I could flick my fingers and decimate the continental US, but I could be reduced to poop on a sharp stick in the left eye by my beautiful repetitive child.

  “Samuel, if you see anything from someone you don’t know, including the four Vampyres that were in here tonight, I don’t want you to say anything about it except to me or Mommy. Is that a deal?” Ethan asked our son as he squatted down in front of him and put his hands on his cheeks.

  “Is it dangewous?” Samuel asked with big eyes, scooting closer to Ethan.

  “Possibly,” Ethan replied gravely as he pulled Samuel even closer.

  I hated that my oversized nine month old had to learn things that someone twenty times his age wouldn’t want to know, but our world was dangerous—and unpredictable. My son was also a True Immortal who embodied the gifts of all the True Immortals combined. He was a miracle and an anomaly. He was probably in more danger than any of us. The fact that he was as impossible to kill as I was gave me a modicum of comfort, but the thought of things far worse than death often crowded my dreams. It wasn’t so long ago that my baby was taken by the Fairies. That one still kept me up at night…

  Ripping the tape from my mouth with a pained yelp, I silently swore not to let one four-letter word rip. “I don’t want Samuel around any of those fuc…ahrgers,” I said. “I want him kept out of their sight. They’ve seen him. The shi…p ass…pirins can tell all the rest of our people that he exists. He’s off limits to them.”

  “Ship aspirins?” Pam asked with a wide grin.

  “Zip it,” I snapped with a barely disguised grin of my own. “It worked didn’t it?”

  “Mommy, mommy, mommy,” Samuel said with a giggle and a shake of his blond curls. “If you hide me, they will want me more. Spike is sad. He do some bad things, but he not all bad. He just want to be different.”

  “He’s got that cornered,” Pam muttered.

  “Did he open the portals?” Gareth asked, standing up with some difficulty.

  Samuel thought for a moment and then shook his head. “He no open port holes.”

  “We could save some time and just let Samuel touch each of them,” Gareth suggested carefully as he backed away from an instantaneously irate Ethan.

  “Absolutely not,” Ethan ground out in a voice that made the entire room take a few steps toward the door.

  Ethan’s fangs had
dropped and his eyes blazed a menacing green. Power rolled off of him and I feared for Gareth’s undead life. However, I was completely onboard with my mate. My son would not be used in any way whatsoever in this fucking mess.

  “Stay over there, Gareth,” Ethan instructed as tried to regain control of his fury. “Not quite sure I won’t tear your head from your shoulders for offering up my son as bait.”

  “Ethan, I wouldn’t put him in danger,” Gareth said, holding his ground. “I’d kill anything or anyone that even looked at him sideways. I was just saying…”

 

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