“We should all dance. We’re here. Let’s make the best of it,” Gemma said as she took The Kev’s hand and pulled him to the dance floor.
“We’re in,” Dixie said, yanking a laughing Hayden into the fray.
“It’s a good idea,” Ethan said, placing his hand on my back and gently pushing me toward Demon Doug’s twerkfest. “We can make sure Venus doesn’t kill Gareth and I can cop a feel of your fine ass.”
“Works for me,” I agreed with a grin. I playfully pushed my bottom back against him. “Feels like you’re very happy to see me.”
“I’m always happy to see you, my love. Unfortunately, I can’t show you how happy I am to see you until tomorrow night. So grinding with you on the dance floor will have to suffice.”
His grin was hot and his words weakened my knees. I loved him so much it was probably going to be my undoing, but I didn’t know any other way. Being with Ethan completed me in unexplainable ways and I knew the feeling was mutual. Yes, I could survive without him because of Samuel, but my life was so much more with him in it.
We danced like idiots. Even some of the strippers and customers joined in. The Kev was working some kind of move that would have been impossible for a mortal man, but as weird as it was he made it look good. He was back in his Michael Bolton disguise and I watched a few drunk dudes try and figure out who the Hell he was. Promising myself to give him a list of more recognizable B-list stars to go for next time, I got into the dancing and let it rip. Dixie and Hayden had some kind of fabulous Pulp Fiction type of groove going, but Doug was the star of the show.
Demon Doug was on fire. He was tossing Venus around like a rag doll and she was screaming with laughter. Gareth stood off to the side pouting like a child. I felt a little sorry for him, but not bad enough to stop having fun. Ethan moved like a dream and he was mine. All mine.
“This is so awesome,” Paris yelled as she hopped around like a jumping bean, smiling from ear to ear. “I love you, Astrid!”
“Love you more,” I yelled back right, as Ethan dipped me and kissed me so thoroughly I forgot my own name.
And that’s when the sign from God came. Well, maybe not God per se, but it was definitely a sign. The old jukebox slowed it down and Open Arms by Journey filled every corner the room. It was more magical than any magic I had inside me. It didn’t matter that we were in a cut rate strip club. The smell, the dirty surroundings, and the fact that there were scantily clad women everywhere disappeared. All I could see was the beautiful man in front of me —my mate and the man I was going to marry tomorrow.
“Slow dance?” Ethan asked with a sexy smirk, holding his strong arms out to me.
“Thought you’d never ask,” I replied, throwing myself at him.
Pressing my body against his felt right and I gloried in the tingles that danced along my skin.
“I thought this would be a clusterfuck,” he whispered in my ear. “I couldn’t have been more wrong.”
But actually he could…
An eerie wind filled with burning silver embers blew up out of nowhere and all the humans scattered in fear. Tables and chairs and pasties flew around the club as the ominous wind grew stronger and louder.
“Dark Fairies,” The Kev yelled, as he dropped his Michael Bolton facade and took on his true form.
Fangs dropped, eyes turned green, and Gemma morphed into something the size of the Hummer we’d ridden in—fangs, claws and spikes included.
“We are definitely gonna have to erase some memories,” Paris said, scanning the room.
Truer words had never been said.
“Show yourselves,” Ethan shouted over the din.
None of us were armed except for Heathcliff who, amazingly, was never unprepared. My worry was for the humans in the bar. They had no part in this game and could die tonight for no reason.
“Paris, Dixie, Hayden — can you get the humans out?” I asked, watching the unsuspecting men and women cowering in abject fear.
No one was drunk enough to forget this one.
“On it,” Dixie said as she, Hayden and Paris began to expertly round them up and shove them out the door.
“I’ll wipe their minds,” Paris yelled as she picked up two huge men, three strippers and made a run for it.
“Holy Hell, she’s strong,” I muttered as I tried to spot the Fairies.
“You will stay out of this,” The Kev tersely instructed the Vampyres. “Gemma and I will take them out. They can hurt you far more than they can hurt us.”
We backed up and made a line of support behind The Kev and Gemma. I’d heard what he’d said, but it didn’t mean I was going to obey. From the expressions on the faces of the other Vamps, I knew we were all on the same page.
And then they appeared. There were six of them—all male. Their beauty rivaled The Kev’s but their evil ways made them pale in comparison to my friend.
“We want the Chosen One,” a dark haired Fairy in the front hissed. “None of you have to die tonight if she comes willingly.”
“I don’t think so,” The Kev said with a benign smile on his face. “She’s having a party and it’s a rather inconvenient time right now.
“Tuesday would be better for me,” I called out with a middle finger salute.
“Not funny,” the lead Fairy roared. “We will continue to open the portals and destroy your world if you don’t come quietly.”
“I’d have to disagree with you there,” Ethan said, stepping up next to The Kev. “Your buddy Spike is dead and you don’t have the ability to find the portals on your own.”
The Fairies exchanged looks. Were they unaware of Spike’s demise? Or were they shocked that Ethan hadn’t died from the magic they’d dosed him with?
“Not to mention, that magic you were using on my mate interested my Uncle Satan tremendously. He’ll be expecting you in Hell soon,” I informed them coldly.
The Kev shot me a look as well as Ethan. I winked at both and they seemed to calm.
And then it hit me.
No fighting needed to take place tonight. I was not going with them, but they’d worn out their welcome in this realm and it was time to send them home.
“Do you trust me?” I asked Ethan and The Kev under my breath.
“Yes,” Ethan said even though my question made him tense.
“I do,” The Kev added.
“Then just stay back. I’ve got this.”
They both gave me a look so stern, I laughed. I wasn’t a helpless female. I was a freak of nature with a new trick up my sleeve that I wanted to try.
“Gemma,” I called out. “I’m I still good to go?”
“Yes,” she answered in a voice far lower than normal. Her beast’s voice was Lauren Bacall-ish—all kinds of sexy. “You’re good to go.”
She winked at me and gnashed her huge fangs. The Dark Fairies stared at her in wonder and fear. She was their soon-to-be Queen. They were in for a massive smackdown when Gemma finally took over.
“Don’t do anything unless I say so,” I muttered, giving my mate a look.
“As you wish—maybe,” Ethan added.
“Fine,” I said, knowing he was incapable of tamping back his alpha-male, Vampyre Prince instincts. “Give me three uninterrupted minutes.”
“Two,” he bargained.
“I probably only need one, so I accept,” I replied cockily.
Ethan’s eye roll was typical and The Kev’s grunt of displeasure was expected, but I knew exactly what I was doing.
“I will walk to you,” I shouted to the Dark Fairies. “You will stay where you are. If anyone makes a move I will summon Satan. He’s very keen on meeting you. You understand?”
“Yes,” the one in the front snarled. “If you bring the Devil into this, you will be sorry.”
“No sorrier than you will,” I shot back politely.
They glanced at each other in slight confusion. They clearly had no sense of irony or humor. They’d ruined my party and I was getting tired. My damned wedding
was only hours away. I needed a little beauty rest.
Slowly I approached. They were situated perfectly—one right next to the other. No one innocent had to die tonight. It was the saving grace here and I would take it happily.
“You could have waited until after I’d tied the knot tomorrow,” I griped, as I got within range to try out my new skill. “Get in closer. I want to make it very clear what my terms are.”
“You will make no terms. We will be making the terms, Chosen One,” the head dude snapped, but they amazingly did as I asked.
They were huddled together and bent forward to hear whatever other crazy thing was going to come from my mouth.
“I have a surprise for you,” I promised, puckering my lips and swinging my head left and right while I blew at them like Hell was on my heels.
The expressions of fury on their faces as they dropped like oversized sacks of potatoes was priceless. It was by far the easiest battle I’d ever fought. I didn’t mess up my outfit or my hair. Totally awesome.
“Holy shit! It worked,” I yelled as I backed away from the dazed, confused and incapacitated Dark Fairies. “Do you have The Dave’s cell number?” I asked The Kev. “I think he might like to come and pick these fuckers up.”
“As a matter of fact I do,” The Kev said with an impressed grin. “He’ll be quite happy to get them back and very proud of you.”
I grinned. I adored The Dave. If I could pick a father, it would be him. He was truly special.
Glancing over at the pile of douchebags on the floor, I let my shoulders sag in relief. I was very aware that this was not even close to the last battle I would fight in my life. I was just pleased it was by far the easiest. All of my people were safe and no human blood was spilled.
Win.
Win.
Best damned Bachelorette party ev-ah.
Chapter 22
“Sweet Heaven on Earth—or Hell to be more accurate,” Pam said as her amethyst eyes misted with tears. “You are the most gorgeous bride I’ve ever seen.”
I closed my eyes so I wouldn’t join her crying. My stomach was in knots and I was seconds away from a full-on bridal meltdown. I’d been holed up in Dixie’s childhood bedroom in the Dark Palace since we’d arrived in Hell. Surrounded by my bridesmaids, seamstresses, along with Demon make-up and hair stylists, the morning whipped by in a flurry of crazed activity. I’d barely had time to think, which was actually a good thing, but still….
“Thank you,” I told Pam as I gathered my wits and decided to enjoy the time with my girls.
“Wait until she puts on her dress,” Raquel said with a little squeal. “Our Astrid will be a true princess.”
“Did Satan make a dispensation for the Vamps to spend time in Hell?” Pam asked, carefully removing her bridesmaid gown from the dress bag.
“He did,” Dixie promised, painting her lips with the perfect shade of Chanel pink. “I made sure of that.”
“Good thing,” Pam said, stepping into her dress. “I hate to be celebrating and then have a shitload of Vampyres drop dead. It’d ruin the ambiance and give me gas.”
“Speaking of…” I started.
“Gas?” Pam inquired with a huge grin.
“Um, no. I don’t ever want to hear about your bodily functions. Ever,” I warned her.
“You’re just jealous that you don’t have any, Asscrackada,” she shot back with a cackle.
An enormous eye roll was my answer to that. “The ambiance part. Has anyone seen the Grand Ballroom? I’m a little concerned. After the Big Sean’s Booby Bungalow choice of venue, it might be, um…”
“Tackier than shit?” Pam supplied, politely.
“I would have said uglier than a sack of assholes,” I replied primly, and then burst out in giggles.
“That visual is foul,” Raquel commented wryly with a shake of her red curls. “You two are disgusting and no. Charles and the Baby Demons won’t let anyone in until the wedding starts. Not even Satan.”
“How’s that going over?” Paris asked with a grin.
“I don’t think he’s noticed,” Dixie said, handing out the delicate diamond drop necklace and earring sets I’d bought for my girls. “He’s so put out that he has to stay two hundred feet from Steve Perry, he’s doesn’t know what to do with himself.”
“I thought it was only fifty feet,” I said as I straightened Venus’ dress and then did the clasp on her necklace.
“I upped it to be safe,” Dixie informed me with a wink and a proud smirk.
My gals looked like fairy princesses. The pale pink gowns floated on air and whispered when they moved. The shoes matched and the diamond jewelry finished the off the magic to perfection.
“Where’s our little man?” Pam asked, partaking of the heavily laden food table that Satan had provided.
“He’s with the guys,” I told her, watching her destroy a cheese platter with gusto. “I saw him in his tux. He’s positively the most beautiful baby alive.”
“Of course he is,” she said through a mouthful. “And the smartest. Sweet Baby Moses in crotchless panties, this pound cake is the best damned dessert I’ve ever tasted.”
“Thank you,” Mother Nature squealed, magically blasting into the room in a storm of peach and pink glitter. “I made it myself!”
Pam choked and almost spit the cake from her mouth, but she was far smarter than to incite my grandmother into a hissy fit that could result in God only knew what. With tremendous effort, Pam swallowed the cake and gave Mother Nature a warm hug.
“Am I gonna die from it?” Pam asked with a twinkle in her eye.
Pam was one of the very few that could gently rib my grandmother without getting fried to a crisp.
“Absolutely not,” Gigi purred, still preening over the fact that Pam swallowed her creation. “I’m no longer sending people into gastrointestinal distress with my cooking.”
“You knew?” I asked, surprised.
“Of course I did,” she replied as she circled the room oohing and aahhing over the dresses. “I have no talent in the kitchen—now the bedroom is a different matter altogether.”
“TMI, Gigi,” I cut in quickly before she could go into graphic description of her sex life with my grandfather.
“Sorry, dear. Anyhoo, I’ve secretly hired a cook! My cooking was a test of sorts,” she explained to a now confused room.
“Not following,” I said, as I found the gift I’d gotten her and held the gaily wrapped package out.
“If someone loves me, they’ll eat my food and at the very least pretend to like it before they have to run and find a vomitorium,” she said.
“Vomitorium?” Gemma asked, confused.
“It means a big toilet, darling. I’m old,” Mother Nature explained. She then examined the package in her hands and began to cry.
My stomach dropped. I’d never seen Mother Nature cry. I knew what happened when she got mad, but sad? It was anybody’s guess.
“What’s wrong?” I asked. I moved to her and took her in my arms. “Did I say something wrong?”
“No. You did something,” she blubbered and grabbed one of the many layers of her ethereal peach gown and dabbed at her eyes.
“I’m so sorry. What did I do?”
“You gave me a present,” she wailed inconsolably. “No one gives me presents.”
Shitshitshit. How the Hell was I supposed to know I wasn’t supposed to give her a present? The fucking immortal rules were endless—and weird.
“Doesn’t Grandpa give you presents?” I asked, trying to keep her talking so she didn’t blow up the Dark Palace or something worse.
“Well, yes, but he’s my mate. That’s a requirement,” she replied, still sniffling. “No one but you has ever thought that I might like a present.”
“So, um… that’s a good thing?” I asked tentatively, knowing it could go one of two ways.
“It’s a wonderful thing,” she whispered and lovingly cupped my cheek in her perfectly manicured hand. “May I open
it?”
“It’s yours. You can do whatever you want,” I said, so relieved my knees almost buckled.
She tore at the paper with excitement and opened the small box. She then gasped and froze. I prayed to every deity I could think of and a few I made up hoping her reaction was a good sign.
In the box was a locket on a gossamer thin silver chain. Inside the locket was a small hand drawn picture of her and Samuel. The likeness was uncanny and it was almost as clear as a photograph. In the best of worlds it would have been a photograph, but Samuel didn’t show up in pictures.
Fashionably Dead and Wed Book 7 Page 22
