“Do you want me to stay and help?” Doug asked sweetly looking like an excited child—with horns and a beer belly. “I am good with dancing. Maybe I can coach you and the groom on the first dance.”
“That would be a…” I stuttered wanting to say clusterfuck, but he was so innocently hopeful I didn’t have the heart to hurt him. “Wonderful idea,” I choked out as Pam and the rest of the bridesmaids tried unsuccessfully to hide their laughter.
“Thiiiissss will beeeeee a fabuloussssss wedding,” Charles bellowed, as Doug danced wildly around the room and my girls stopped trying to hide their giggles.
“Well,” I said giving into the wince-smile that pulled at my lips. “It will definitely be a wedding no one will forget.”
Shitshitshit.
Chapter 10
“Then the magical little boy decided that turning everyone’s skin different colors at his mommy and daddy’s wedding was a very, very, very bad idea, so he didn’t do it. The end,” I said as I hugged my giggling son tight in my arms.
My baby’s blue eyes were sleepy as he’d just woken up from his morning nap and he smelled like heaven. Colorful toys and stuffed animals of every sort were strewn all over the bright, cheery, yellow nursery with dinosaur scenes painted on the walls. It was all kinds of perfect. I glanced up at the sky blue ceiling with puffy white clouds and a sun peeking out from the corner and smiled. Running my fingers through his curls made me forget about the bizarre morning.
“Mommy, me know what you’re doing,” Samuel said, stroking my face and planting a wet kiss on my cheek.
“What am I doing?” I asked with faux innocence as I returned the smooch with great pleasure.
“You is making sure that me be a good boy in Hell,” he replied with a mischievous little grin.
“Possibly,” I agreed with a smile, pulling a Superman t-shirt over his head and then trying to tame his wild blond curls.
I stared at my baby and a teeny tiny eeny weenie part of me wished I could give him a sister or a brother. Yes, pregnancy sucked, but the prize at the end was worth every craving, ache and pain I’d had. The debatably rational side of my brain knew it would never happen, but…
“How bout this,” Samuel suggested with an adorably evil little smirk as he pulled off the Superman t-shirt and replaced it with a Napoleon Dynamite one. “How bout me be a good boy and we get a baboon friend for Blobbityflonk?”
“Hmmm, interesting,” I replied, squinting at my little deal-maker. “Two questions. Are you blackmailing your mommy and have you watched the movie Napoleon Dynamite?”
Samuel clasped his small hands together and gave me a mini eye roll—very reminiscent of his father. It was all I could do not to laugh. He was perfect and mine. Granted, my son was one powerful little sucker, but he was still my baby.
“Me no blackmail you, mommy,” Samuel explained seriously, pointing a chubby finger in my face and pressing on my nose. “Me see an opening and me take it. And yes, the Baby Demons showed me the movie.”
“Figures,” I muttered as I scooped him up and tossed him in the air, much to his great delight. He was getting bigger by the day, but my Vampyre strength came in very handy when playing with my child.
“Okaaaaaaay,” my little man said, regrouping his tactics. “How bout me no turn people purple if mommy say no potty words at wedding?”
“That’s a very dangerous deal on my part,” I said as I wrinkled my nose and realized we might be in the market for a new baboon. “Mommy is working very hard to correct her, um… habit… but sometimes I mess up.”
“It’s okay, mommy,” Samuel assured me with adoration shining from his eyes. “You a good mommy even though you say poopy bad words.”
I stilled and felt like I wanted to cry. I was a good mom. I loved my child and I told him so everyday. I’d never had that kind of love from my mother and I made damn sure Samuel knew how I felt about him. I was only a semi-pushover where he was concerned and I would die for him in a heartbeat.
My baby counted on me and I had every intention of being there for him until the end of time. Considering we were immortal, the end of time was accurate. Why in the fucking Hell couldn’t I stop swearing for him? What was wrong with me? Was he going to incur huge therapy bills because of my sailor’s mouth? Hell, that was probably the least of our problems where the need for therapy was concerned. With a dysfunctional family consisting of Satan, Mother Nature, Demons, Vampyres and Angels galore, it was a good thing we had a bunch of money. Samuel’s head shrinking bills were going to be enormous in the near future.
“It’s a deal,” I said before I could think too hard about the reality of what I’d just agreed to. “Mommy will not say one poopy word at the wedding and you will refrain from altering the color of the guest’s skin.”
“I’m sorry,” Ethan said as he entered the nursery and stopped dead in his tracks. “What was that?”
“Mommy no say fucker and me no turn people green at the wedding!” Samuel announced to his shocked father with glee.
For one of the most powerful Vampyres in the world, my beautiful mate was at a total loss for what to do. He could take down armies, but raising a child was a Hell of a lot harder, especially with me as his baby’s mother.
Crapballs.
“Samuel, if I can’t say fucker, you cannot say fucker. In fact, you can’t say fucker ever. Clear?” I said trying to gain back some ground by sounding responsible even though I’d just used the word fucker twice in a sentence.
“Dear God,” Ethan said as he pressed his temples and closed his eyes. “And if mommy drops a potty word at the nuptials our guests get rainbow skin?”
“No, silly daddy. If mommy has poop mouth, me get another baboon!”
“And the day gets better,” Ethan said as he grabbed our son and buried his nose in his hair.
“What do you mean by better?” I asked warily.
“Well,” Ethan said, putting Samuel down in front of his train set and getting comfortable on the couch. “I’ve been running from an obese Demon named Doug for the last hour who insists that he’s supposed to teach me to dance. He’s very fortunate he’s still alive.”
I nodded my head and gave Ethan a weak smile.
“As if that wasn’t enough to start the day right, your grandmother is here with cakes—wedding cakes to be precise. The visiting male Vampyres have made repeated mentions of my porksword and several more portals have reopened,” he finished with a frown marring his handsome face.
“What’s a porksword?” Samuel asked as he zoomed his trains around the track with a combination of magic and his hands.
“It’s um…” Ethan replied with a wince and a terrified glance thrown my way.
“It’s a, um…very sharp, and you know… dangerous weapon that a pirate uses,” I blurted out attempting to save the day. “But it is a secret, kind of mystical and rare-ish weapon made by um, pirate ghosts and it’s best not to talk about it. At all. Ever.”
Ethan shot me a horrified look and I shrugged helplessly. At least I tried.
Samuel stopped what he was doing and glanced over at his unfit parental units. He put his little fingers on his chin and pursed his lips. “It’s a poop word, isn’t it?”
The silence was loud.
“Yes. Yes it is,” Ethan admitted, running his hands through his hair with a groan. “No pirates involved. I’m sorry. I’ll try to do better with that in the future, my little man.”
“It’s okay, my daddy. The more you guys mess up the closer me is to getting another baboon.”
“He really is brilliant,” I whispered to Ethan as Samuel went back to his trains.
“He is,” Ethan said as he stared at his child with pride. “I’m over five hundred years old and he can best me.”
“Holy Hell, I can’t even imagine what he’ll be like as a teenager,” I said with a shudder.
“Bite your tongue, at the rate he’s growing that could be next week.”
He was correct. Since someone li
ke Samuel had never existed, we had no clue how fast he would grow. It was unsettling, but what in our world wasn’t? As long as he was safe and loved, I didn’t care if I woke up tomorrow and he was an adult. I hoped it didn’t happen that way because I loved the stage he was in right now. However, it didn’t matter what I wanted. It was going to happen however the fates deemed fit.
“You’re right,” I said as I sat down next to him and put my head on his shoulder. “Fat Demon Doug is harmless. He was a pile of shit this morning and I felt bad for him.”
“Literally?” Ethan asked.
“Um, yes… Charles kind of zapped Doug when Doug suggested REO Speedwagon for the reception,” I told him, and then dove back in quickly just in case he went after Charles to get rid of him or worse. “It’s a long story, and yes, Charles was involved, but it’s fine now. Dixie fixed it and made Charles her minion and mine, so he can’t tell Satan everything we’re doing anymore. It’s really a win-win and Charles is now our wedding planner. Doug was supposed to, but he’s never seen a wedding even though he’s gay which Satan assured me was the correct prerequisite for a wedding planner. I don’t think Charles is gay. I get a more asexual vibe from him, but I’m not going to let that color my opinion of him. It’s fine with me if he’s straight, although I really can’t visualize him having a girlfriend—or a boyfriend. Besides, Satan is fucked in the head,” I finished my diatribe to a look of utter confusion on my mate’s face.
“I followed very little of that and I think I’m glad,” Ethan said, shaking his head and pulling me closer.
“Fucked in the head,” Samuel shouted as he made his trains fly around the room.
“What did I tell you about saying fucked?” I reprimanded my very-proud-of-himself son.
“You say me no say fucker, not fucked,” he countered with a shrug and a giggle.
He had me there.
“What your mother meant was you can’t use that word in any way at all,” Ethan cut in before I used the word fuck in an explanation of every possible way to say the word.
“Okay,” Samuel said, satisfied with his father’s answer.
I watched in awe as Samuel went right back to happily playing. “How did you do that?” I whispered to Ethan. “I always put my foot in my mouth.”
“Never explain,” he replied with a sexy grin that made me want to stick my tongue down his throat and ride him hard.
“What?”
“Only answer the matter at hand. Answer vaguely and never go into detail unless he asks.”
“How did you get so smart?” I demanded as I nipped at his full bottom lip.
“Over five hundred years of dealing with Vampyres who tend to behave like children is how I got so smart.”
“I have a long way to go,” I muttered.
“You’re doing just fine,” he promised.
“How many portals have reopened?” I asked, wondering if I needed to alert Satan.
“About ten,” Ethan told me with a disgusted shake of his head. “Hold off on Satan. We closed them and I don’t want the Demon SWAT team or the God Squad involved yet. I’ve got some of our best on it with The Kev leading them. If it gets worse, we’ll call in the shitshow, but right now it’s handled. Now I’m going to play trains for a while with our little Einstein and you’re going to go deal with Mother Nature.”
“That doesn’t seem fair.” I stood up and groaned. “But she is my grandmother, not yours.”
“And thank God for that,” Ethan said with a relieved grunt.
“Screw you,” I shot back with a giggle, as I kissed the top of my son’s head and made my way to the door of the nursery.
“In five days,” Ethan promised with a look in his eyes that set my girlie parts on fire.
“Screw you, mommy,” Samuel said, blowing me a kiss.
As I opened my mouth, I caught Ethan’s raised brow and closed it immediately.
“Never explain,” he mouthed as he got down on the floor with our baby. “Samuel the best way to say bye to people is to say, I love you or see you later. Screw you is only for mommy and daddy. Okay?”
“Okay,” Samuel said as he handed Ethan a train and got back to the business of playing.
I was amazed.
I wondered if the same strategy would work with Mother Nature…
Only one way to find out.
***
“So this is the gay Demon that Satan sent to plan your wedding?” Mother Nature questioned in disbelief as she pointed her long perfectly manicured nail at Charles.
Poor Charles was alone on top of the oversized teak kitchen table looking traumatized from his short time with Mother Nature. She was good like that. I wasn’t quite sure how he’d gotten from Ethan’s office to the kitchen, but thinking too hard about that would give me a headache—something that was almost virtually impossible for a Vampyre.
Gigi circled my three-headed monster and tsked with distaste. Charles stared at me with wide eyes and a terrified expression on all three of his faces.
My grandmother was dressed to the nines as usual in a gorgeous shimmering green diaphanous gown, but she was covered in flour and I was fairly certain there was a glob of pink icing in her red hair. None of this boded well for a pleasant visit.
“Um, no. He’s not gay.” I moved closer to shield Charles just in case Mother Nature decided to eliminate him permanently. “Wait. Are you gay?” I asked my multi-headed wedding planner from Hell.
“Noooooo,” he replied. “I like booooooobies.”
“Have you introduced him to the Baby Demons? He seems to have a lot in common with them,” Mother Nature commented dryly.
She was correct. My Baby Demons loved boobies—well, Abe and Ross did. Beyoncé and Rachel were more into butts and pecs. They were miniature destructive nightmares, but I loved them. I was quite sure Charles was going to fit right in.
“I’m a gay Demon named Doug!” Fat Doug volunteered as he did jazz runs across the room and finished with a pose so awkward I flinched in sympathy pain.
“So why aren’t you planning the shindig?” Gigi asked as she began removing cakes from the mound of boxes she’d brought.
“I’m a dancer,” Doug replied.
“Mmmkay,” Gigi replied with one brow arched high.
“A dancer dances,” Doug explained with a small leap that looked more like the move one makes when trying to discreetly pull ones underwear from one’s ass without using hands.
Mother Nature considered Doug for a few long moments as Doug continued to butcher the art of movement. Her eyes lit up and my stomach clenched in fear.
“Doug darling, do you pole dance?” she inquired casually.
“Why yes I do,” he trilled as he sashayed over to my grandmother and landed in a fucked up version of what I think was supposed to be the splits. “Do you, m’lady?”
“I do,” she said coyly, batting her lashes at the gay Demon who was now besotted with her. “What say you we go back to Nirvana and practice a little routine for the wedding reception after I’m done here.”
“I say YES!” Doug shouted, and then grunted in pain as he heaved himself out of the splits.
“Wonderful,” Mother Nature said, as she placed the eighth and final gorgeous cake on the long granite countertop in the massive state of the art kitchen that was rarely used. Since all the inhabitants in the compound didn’t actually eat food, the kitchen was more for show than use. “Doug, Astrid only drinks blood would you be a dear and taste my confections?”
“I would be delighted O Beautiful One,” Doug squealed.
He was so excited he produced a boom box out of mid-air and cranked YMCA up so loud I was sure we’d all ruptured an eardrum. Doug did a rather repulsive bump and grind on his way over to the cakes much to the rabid joy of Mother Nature who was applauding wildly—which of course caused a smallish earth quake and several trees to explode out of the pitted cherry hardwood floors.
Fuck. I dropped my chin to my chest and thought very seriously about t
ransporting myself to Siberia. The clusterfuck that was about to ensue when Doug puked up my grandmother’s cake was going to be ugly.
“Meeeeeee taste toooooo,” Charles volunteered before I could quietly warn him away.
“This is delightful,” Gigi sang as she blew both Charles and Doug kisses and produced a cake knife from her Coach bag to slice her desserts.
Oh. My. Uncle. God.
Please don’t let the cakes cause a head spinning episode with Charles. If Mother Nature gets turned into a pile of shit with a face, the world as we know it, will end. I gripped the table and waited for all Hell to break loose.
Fashionably Dead and Wed Book 7 Page 11
