Fashionably Forever After

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Fashionably Forever After Page 9

by Robyn Peterman


  Astrid nodded and came to stand beside me. Damn, if the child didn’t feel my discomfort. Making pleasantries wasn’t in my wheelhouse. But today would be an exception. Elle meant more to me than my ego—a fact that never ceased to surprise me.

  “I need to go to Kismet. I understand you know how to get there,” I said, not beating around the bush.

  “You understand wrong,” The Kev said, coolly. “No one knows how to get there.”

  “Yet your kind can survive in Kismet?” I asked.

  The Kev nodded slowly.

  “Then it stands to reason, if you know Fairies can endure in Kismet then a Fairy had to have gone there and come back to tell others about it,” I stated, staring straight at The Kev.

  The Kev stood and approached warily. “Why do you want to go to Kismet? It’s a death wish.”

  “I beg to differ. It’s my death wish if I don’t go. In fact it may be a death wish for all of mankind if I don’t go,” I shot back flatly.

  “What in the ever loving heck is Kismet?” Gemma asked, moving to stand beside her partner.

  The Kev ran his hands through his hair and gave me a dirty look. “It’s the land of the Sirens,” he told her. “Also as the myth goes, it’s also the home of Fate. No immortal can exist there for more than a day and Fairies can go a week… possibly.”

  “What about True Immortals?” Astrid asked.

  Sighing, The Kev shrugged. “I would guess that a True Immortal could survive. But the legend of l’appel du vide is very real.”

  “Translate,” Gemma said, wrinkling her nose.

  “It means the call of the void. In Kismet, one has desires of self-destruction and the enchantment on the island urges the intruder to act on them. Hence, even a True Immortal could end up stuck in Kismet for eternity.”

  “Umm… not following,” Astrid said.

  I was glad she said it. I wanted to, but I needed to play my hand wisely. Lack of knowledge was not a smooth move or in charge way to proceed.

  “With repeated self-inflicted wounds a True Immortal could get caught in a cycle of harming and healing—repeatedly. Forever,” The Kev explained.

  “That would so suck big ass,” Astrid said.

  “My thoughts exactly,” The Kev agreed with a small smile directed at Astrid. “Although I might have phrased it a tad differently.”

  “I don’t care,” I said with a dismissive wave of my hand. “I’m going. I’m far too selfish and self-absorbed to harm myself. Fate is there and she’s gone bat shit crazy.”

  “Is that where Elle and Sadie have gone too?” Tiara asked.

  I nodded with a grim expression on my lips. “Yes. And I’m going to get her.”

  “The woman you love?” Gemma asked, carefully.

  “Yes,” I hissed, annoyed that everyone was aware I had feelings. It didn’t sit well with my reputation. “She’s absolutely dreadful and I can’t live without her. You happy?” I snapped.

  “Yep,” Gemma said with a laugh. “Even the mighty fall.”

  “Did that at the beginning of time,” I muttered. This was turning out to be a waste of energy. None of them knew how to get to Kismet.

  The Kev sighed and began to pace. “I haven’t been there, but my sister has.”

  “Where is your sister?” I demanded.

  “She was cursed for twelve hundred years,” he replied with pain in his voice. “I have no idea where she is.”

  “Are you talking about The Shelia?” Astrid asked

  “No, Krumecaca, I don’t have a sister named The Shelia,” The Kev said, confused.

  “Actually you do. Her name was The Fru Fru, but she changed it to The Shelia because she was my diary and I called her Shelia. I thought it was kind of cold to address all my entries Dear Diary. Besides, the word diary made me think of milk which led me to think about ice cream and that made me feel stabby. I needed an outlet when I was writing Uncle Fucker’s autobiography slash romance and…”

  “We can really stop using the Uncle Fucker endearment,” I said shaking my head and closing my eyes in pain.

  “Whoops, sorry,” Astrid said with a giggle. “So anyhoo, I didn’t realize my diary was freakin’ alive. I mean who in the fuck would think a book was alive? You feel me?”

  “Umm… no,” I said, pressing the bridge of my nose. “Does this story actually have a point?”

  “Hell to the yes,” Astrid said, getting excited. She snapped her fingers and produced her diary. “Normally, I wouldn’t share my diary, but this part I didn’t write. The Shelia left me a note at the end. Shocked the shit out of me, but it was totally cool. It says… and I quote…

  Dear Astrid,

  I hope you’re seated. And before you get your designer panties in a wad, just know that I will never betray your confidence. However, all bets are off if you try to kill me.

  My given name is The Fru Fru—which completely sucks. My mother was a dumbass, not murderous like yours, but a total jack hole nonetheless. I’m a cursed Fairy that has to live in inanimate objects for twelve hundred-ish years because I had a horrid little habit of bitch slapping the wrong people—a lot.

  Being stuck as an inanimate object, I haven’t gotten laid in centuries. When the damned curse is lifted, I shall make up for lost time. Returning to my natural form of a Fairy with extremely loose morals is appealing at this point. I will be back to borrow your black stiletto Prada boots when the time comes. Pretty sure they will get me laid.

  I’m going to go by The Shelia now. I like it and it fits me. My mother can bite my ass.

  “Oh my God,” The Kev gasped. “That sounds exactly like my sister.”

  “Wait, there’s more,” Astrid said excitedly, scanning the pages. “Some of this is damning and will earn me an ass blasting from Uncle Fu… Lucifer, so I’m just gonna read the pertinent parts.”

  “Wise choice,” I said dryly.

  “Okay, this part isn’t really important, but it’s a nice compliment to me so I’m gonna read it. Do you want to hear it?”

  “Do we have a choice?” I inquired.

  “Nope,” she said with a laugh.

  I’d first like to point out that you have an unhealthy obsession with threatening death. You should work on that along with cleaning up your poop language. Just a suggestion. However, using the word “fuck” as a noun, verb, pronoun and adjective is wildly impressive. I’d like to congratulate you on that.

  And yes, your uncle does secretly like being called Uncle Fucker. I saw him grin with delight when you weren’t looking. Keep up the good work. If you want to vary your endearments, try Uncle Fester. That would be hilarious.

  “I will go on record now saying that is a very bad suggestion,” I cut in before she could list off more names that would end in decapitation.

  “Roger that,” Astrid said, still scanning the pages and then found more.

  My assmunch fourth cousin on my mother’s side put this curse on me. I’ll be gunning for her ass in a thousand years or so. I signed a whopper of a contract without reading it and now I’m stuck as an inanimate freakin’ object for twelve hundred years. I thought I was signing up for a new cell phone plan. What the ever lovin’ fuck? Right?

  I’m glad you trained with The Kev. What I’m going to tell you now might shock you so sit your ass down. The Kev is my brother. He tried to save me from my inanimate punishment, but alas it was my own fucking fault for not reading the fine print of what I thought was a steal of a deal on a cell phone plan.

  The Kev is a wonderful person and I love him dearly. You can tell him this and let him know I owe him dinner in about a thousand years. I can’t cook, so I figured I’d take him to that hamburger joint you talked about… Humphrey’s Hamburger House. I’d like to try that rabbit turd ice you spoke so fondly of.

  I won’t be staying in your closet or as your diary for the next thousand years so your secrets are safe. I’m thinking about becoming a bed at a brothel for a while. It might subdue some of my horniness—or not. I’ll let y
ou know how that works out when we meet someday.

  Oh, and ask The Kev to find out if The Dave has a mate. I’m hoping that hot piece of ass is still available when I get sprung from my inanimate Hell. That Fairy is all kinds of sexy and all kinds of mine.

  Be good my friend or I’ll have to kill you.

  Just kidding. I’m not into bloodshed except for maybe offing my fourth cousin on my mother’s side and anyone who thinks they can have The Dave.

  xoxo Shelia

  “I have to find her,” The Kev said with an urgency that set the devious wheels of my mind into motion.

  “Umm… I would like to point out that there are probably a lot of brothels in the world. Might be kind of difficult to find her,” Astrid offered up.

  “Not for me,” I replied cryptically.

  The Kev was speechless. He was very clearly torn. Owing the Devil was never a good idea. While The Kev might have been speechless, I was not. I saw an opening and I took it. Always.

  “You’re sister has been to Kismet?”

  The Kev nodded.

  “I can break her curse,” I said watching for his reaction.

  He didn’t disappoint. For a brief second, he looked as relieved as a man could look. Then his expression grew unsure and his eyes narrowed dangerously. “And what is the price, Lucifer?”

  My smile spread slowly across my lips and I paused. There was power in silence and I was about to take the upper hand.

  “Your price?” he repeated in a strained tone.

  “I will remove the curse permanently. Your sister will be free. However, the price—as you so aptly put it—is that she will take me to Kismet.”

  “And leave you there?” The Kev asked, realizing there was probably more.

  There was always more when the Devil was cutting a deal.

  “No. She will stay with me… and you, Gemma will accompany as well,” I finished and waited for the Fairy to come at me.

  “What about me?” Tiara asked.

  “And me” Astrid added much to Ethan’s displeasure.

  “And me?” Lizard asked.

  “Astrid, you have no Fairy blood in you and you are not nearly as selfish as I am.”

  “Thank God,” Ethan muttered.

  Ignoring him, I went on. I was winning. Zapping the Vampyre’s ass would not be a smart move. I really wanted to, but refrained.

  “Tiara, you have Vampyre and Demon in you as well. I won’t risk it. Lizard, you are only half-Fairy and half-Demon. You’re also male. Sirens are probably not good company for you. As much as I would like you with me, it’s not a good idea.”

  “Sire, if I may?” Lizard inquired respectfully.

  At least the idiot remembered I had a title. With a curt nod I let him speak.

  “I would give my life for both you and my Queen. My bat skills are unrivaled and I beg you to let me come. I will not be affected by the l’appel du vide. As far as the lure of the Sirens, it will not be an issue. I have mates now and I am committed to them. But most importantly, because of my past, I’m impervious to pain.”

  Gemma’s sharp intake of breath made Lizard stare at his feet in embarrassment.

  “You’ve had a tragic past,” she asked sadly.

  “Actually, I’d have to argue his present is pretty tragic since his mates are Martha and Jane,” Astrid muttered under her breath.

  “My past is my past,” Lizard said emotionlessly. “It’s made me who I am right now. My Liege has been good to me—better than anyone in my many centuries. I will die for him gladly—and for you as well, my Queen.”

  “So be it. Lizard will come. Your answer?” I asked, turning my attention to a seething The Kev.

  “No,” he ground out thorough gritted teeth. “Not Gemma.”

  “Wait,” Gemma said, placing her hand lovingly on his arm. “We’ll need help—all the help we can get when we go to Zanthia. We have no one there we truly trust except The Dave. The Shelia could mean the difference between life and death for us.”

  “I will fight for you,” Lizard said, putting his hand on his heart.

  My eye roll was enormous, but even my Demons had free will. If the Demon wanted to go die for a glitter throwing Fairy, it was his choice.

  “And I will defend you with my life as well,” Tiara said, putting her arms around Gemma and hugging her tight.

  “While all this is outstandingly gas inducing, there is a deal on the table. Take it or leave it,” I said, feeling a headache coming on. All of these Immortals were too lovey-dovey for my sanity.

  “We’ll take it,” Gemma said. “However, we will be even. We will owe you no favor for any of this.”

  “Done,” I said. “Give me an hour. I will find your sister.”

  “You have an in at all the brothels in the world?” Astrid asked with a raised brow and a smirk.

  “I’m fucking Satan,” I said throwing my hands in the air. What did I have to do to get respect around here? “Of course, I do.”

  “Can he really do that?” Gemma asked with a giggle.

  “Find The Shelia?” I asked. What was wrong with these people? Was everyone hard of hearing?

  “Umm… no,” Tiara said with a wide naughty grin. “Gemma is wondering if you’re a contortionist.”

  Closing my eyes, I sternly reminded myself that killing everyone in the room was a really fucking bad idea. I’d just cut a deal that could potentially save Elle’s life and damn Fate’s. Mass decapitation would screw everything up.

  Playing nice was going to kill me.

  Note to self… Think before you speak. It will cut down on dismemberment, decapitation and incineration of others. Possibly…

  At least I was going to leave with the onyx mesh desktop organizer with five vertical and three horizontal shelving sections. That certainly made an annoying hour more palatable.

  Chapter Eleven

  “Mmmkay Mr. Evil Pants, correct me if I’m wrong… I just got sprung from being a bed in a brothel—which by the way was more fun in freakin’ theory than in actuality—and now I have to go to Kismet?” The Shelia asked, wrinkling her lovely nose.

  The Fairy was truly stunning. The Shelia looked so much like her brother it was disturbing. However, her sense of style was thankfully far superior. It hadn’t been all that difficult to find her. I’d simply put the word out to pinpoint a talking bed in a brothel and the location had come back within twenty minutes.

  Breaking the curse had been a bit more complicated, but I was a master and refused to lose. Being delicate was not one of my stronger suits, but it was necessary in this unusual case. The spell was intricately woven and one wrong move could have ended The Shelia’s immortal life.

  However, I was good—very, very, very, good. In fact if I had an ego, I’d have to say I was the best. Oh wait… I did have a fabulously out-of-check ego and no humility whatsoever. I was the best.

  The Shelia had chosen a brothel in Vegas. Luckily her destination had been in a house of ill repute I happened to own. No mind-wiping had been necessary since the cliental was primarily Immortals—Gnomes to be more specific.

  “That’s the plan,” I told her. “I’d be happy to reinstate the curse if it doesn’t appeal.”

  “Hell to the no,” she shouted, shaking her head with repulsion as pink and gold Fairy dust blew willy-nilly around the small brothel office. “If I have to see one more green Gnome member in my lifetime, it will be one time too many. The ugly bastards seem to have an obsession with the movie Fifty Shade of Grey. The term ‘laters babe’ has been branded into my brain. This is not a good thing—at all.”

  I had no idea what the woman was babbling about, but I didn’t care. As long as she was game to get me to where I wanted to go, she could even recite my brother’s book and I wouldn’t care—much.

  “One question though,” The Shelia said, pacing the small office. “Is there time for me to get laid before we head to our deaths? I haven’t had a big O in a couple hundred years.”

  It was a highly
unusual request and I wasn’t quite sure how to answer.

  “You are one hot son of a bitch,” she said with a come hither smile. “Maybe we could bump fuzzies for a bit—no strings attached of course.”

  In the olden days I would have taken her up on her request in a heartbeat, but not now. While I could still appreciate her feminine assets, her beauty and her shameless appetite, I had no desire to bed her—or anyone except my Siren.

  “I’m taken,” I said. “You’ll have to go elsewhere for your amusement.”

  The Shelia sighed dramatically and then giggled. “Actually, I’m taken as well, but the bastard doesn’t know it yet,” she said. “However, if someone has a stray vibrator laying around that will do the trick as well.”

  “Can’t say I travel with vibrators,” I replied, enjoying the crude woman.

  “Damn it, what good are you, old man?” she demanded with a charming smile. “I’m a horny Fairy who hasn’t done the horizontal mambo in a few centuries. You’re the damned Devil. I had no clue you were a one-woman man. Has the world changed that much since I’ve been cursed?”

  “It’s quite recent,” I replied with a grin. “Surprised me most of all.”

  “Well, that is one lucky woman to have nabbed your hot ass,” The Shelia replied. “So who’s taking us to Kismet?”

  “You are,” I replied.

  “Not following,” she said, staring at me in confusion.

  My stomach tightened and I held my temper with effort. As much as I had enjoyed our inappropriate exchange I was in no mood to play games.

  “You’ve been to Kismet?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you clearly survived,” I added.

  “Yes.”

  “So correct me if I’m wrong,” I said, repeating her earlier statement as my eyes went vivid red with anger. “You must know how to get to Kismet if you’ve been there.”

  “You’re wrong,” The Shelia said, staring pointedly at me. “Who told you I knew how to get to Kismet?”

  I paused and thought for a moment and realized no one had actually told me that The Shelia knew how to get there—just that she’d been there.

  “My mistake,” I said tightly, sitting on my hands that were beginning to spark black glitter. If at first you don’t succeed, you try a new approach. If that doesn’t fucking work you resort to decapitation. “How did you get there? Who took you?”

 

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