Devil May Care (11 page)

“I live for them.” My father rubbed his hands together.

“You,” Bassano turned to stare at Matt’s mom, “will find a way to bond with your son’s new girlfriend. You will be nice. You will be polite. And at the end of the day the girl will be ecstatic at the idea of becoming a member of this family. Or I will hand you over to Mal and make you do the demon’s bidding for the next century.”

“You wouldn’t dare.” Valerie hissed.

“Dad, I don’t think that’s a very good—” Matt was cut off when Bassano waved his hand at him.

“We made a deal,” Bassano said. “You kept quiet about my courting my last two wives and didn’t tell your mother until I decided to announce my engagement. In return I promised you a life free of the Angale and your mother’s interfering. I couldn’t keep her away but I can make sure she doesn’t complicate your life now that she’s here.”

“I have duties to attend to in managing your flock,” Valerie said. “I don’t have time to bond with a demoness. No matter how much my son is infatuated with her.”

“Are you sure about that?” Bassano asked. You could have heard a feather drop at our table.

“Positive.”

“Fine, I Bassano, Cherub of the Celestial Order, repudiate you, Valerie Andrews. You are no longer my wife. You no longer have a place in my heart or my home. Your presence is no longer welcome amongst my tribe—”

“Wait.” She reached out to cling to his upper arm.

“Wait?”

“I’ll reschedule some things,” Valerie said, her shoulders slumping in defeat. “If it is that important to you I can juggle my other responsibilities.”

“That’s not necessary.” I tried to smile, even though I’m pretty sure it ended up coming out more like a grimace.

“Why are you willing to accommodate me?” Bassano raised an eyebrow at Valerie, both of them ignoring my protests that Valerie and I really didn’t need to bond.

Valerie swallowed. “Why?”

“Say it,” Bassano said.

“Because you’re right,” Valerie said, the pent up rage in her voice evident. “I need to be nice to your son’s love interest. No matter how short of a time they may be together. I’ll devote the rest of my day to getting to know her better.”

Hope was right—this guy was a bully. If it weren’t for the fact that Matt said they were evenly matched I might have felt sorry for her.

“You know that’s not such a good idea.” I tried to throw her a lifeline. Sure, she was a bitch and I was pretty sure she hated me, but that didn’t mean I wanted her to be miserable. She was the woman who gave birth to Matt, and for that reason, if nothing else, I wanted to make sure she was at least somewhat happy. “I have plans to go for a bridesmaid’s dress fitting after lunch. I’m sure it will be boring and I would hate to put you through that. Hell, I don’t want to go through that. So, maybe we should get together the next time you come to town?”

“Or you could come with us?” Mom asked, her baby blue eyes sparkling. It didn’t take a mind reader to tell that she wanted the other woman to come so she could needle her. “I’d love to have someone else’s opinions on the dresses we chose. You and Brenda could both come if you like. We’ll do the dress fitting and then all go get our nails done. How does that sound?”

“Mom.” I tried my best to keep my voice light. The last thing I wanted was to spend the afternoon with Valerie, Brenda, and a room full of hideous taffeta. After all, it was bad enough to go dress shopping with Mom. “Are you sure that’s such a good idea? You’ve been keeping these dresses under wraps for weeks. Aren’t you worried that it might leak what we’re all wearing?”

I looked over at Valerie and tried to keep my tone convincing, hoping the old dragon would just play along. “Not that I think you’d go blabbing about things, but Mom’s so secretive she wouldn’t even let her bridesmaids see the dresses before now.”

“Oh well.” She rolled her eyes at me and I could tell that she was going to play along. “Bridesmaids’ dresses are a big deal. A mother-daughter bonding moment. I’d hate to intrude.”

“So why don’t we do lunch tomorrow?” I grinned at her and we both knew that was never going to happen.

“Sounds perfect,” Valerie agreed.

I smiled at her, then sprung my clever trap. “And today, while I’m with Mom, you and Brenda can pack all her stuff up and move it from my apartment to wherever the two of you are going to be staying here in Pittsburgh.”

“I think that’s an excellent idea.” Valerie smiled back.

Fear niggled at the base of my spine, causing my tail to itch. Why did I have that sinking feeling that when I got home Brenda was going to have raided all my candy stashes?

Chapter Eleven

“Mirror, mirror, on the wall,” I muttered to myself as I stared at my reflection in the mirror and mourned the loss of good taste in wedding apparel. “Who’s the worst dressed demoness of all?”

Could my mother have picked anything uglier? Pink was bad enough but taffeta and hoop skirts? I wasn’t expecting miracles or Donna Karan or anything, because let’s be serious, nobody looks
good in a bridesmaid’s dress from a place called Kate’s House of Brides, but this might be the worst dress in the entire building. Possibly the entire state.

“Have you put the hat on yet? Mom called out. “The hat really completes the look that we’re trying to go for.”

I snatched up the hideous white straw sunhat by the pastel pink ribbons trailing off the back of it and jammed it on my head, my eyes flaring at my reflection like two tiny red torches of pissed off. Between the hat, the ruffles on the off-the-shoulder bodice, and the tiered hoopskirt, I looked like a throwback from a bad seventies wedding. Oh yeah, I was riding that retro wave.

“Are you three done yet?” There was a pounding on my dressing room door and I knew that Mom was getting impatient to see the hot mess of ugly she’d managed to put together for her bridesmaids. “I’m dying to see how beautiful you look.”

“No,” Hope said, the frustration clear in her voice.

“Not even close,” Lisa added.

“But you’ve been in there for ten minutes. Surely you girls have your dresses on by now?”

“Maybe you could send some tequila in to help speed it along,” Lisa suggested. “Because right now I could really use a drink.”

“There’s been a mistake,” Hope said. “Our dresses were switched with some other, horribly tacky wedding’s dresses. Antje needs to go find the right ones immediately.”

Wow, Antje the wedding planner extraordinaire would have steam coming out of her ears at hearing Hope try to give orders. All of us, except for Mom, had suspected she might actually be a demonic wedding planner. But she scared Dad, so that meant being a demon was out. Antje was just a psychopath with a fixation on flowers and proper seating arrangements.

“There’s been no mistake,” Antje said in her clipped German accent. “Those are the dresses your mother and I have chosen to complement the storyline of her wedding. Now, out you come, and let us see what alterations need to be made.”

“On three?” Lisa said from the dressing room on my other side.

I looked at the god-awful gown and closed my eyes, sighing. My mother had done a lot of things to torture me, but this might be the worst. I mean really, how hard is it to find a bridesmaid’s dress that doesn’t suck? “Can we try three hundred?”

“No,” Antje said. “Out you come on three. One…two…”

Alpha help me they better make this attempt at marriage last because this was the last time I was going to be one of my mother’s bridesmaids. Three times was two times too many as far as I was concerned.
At least this groom wasn’t going to be naked for half the ceremony as he communed with nature
, I reminded myself. I turned and grabbed the door handle.

“…three.”

“Don’t you girls look stunning?” Mom clapped her hands like an overexcited toddler. “Look at all of you. You’re just…visions.”

“Yeah, visions of the ghosts of Tacky Weddings Dead and Gone,” Hope said.

I snorted, trying to mask my laughter.

“They aren’t
that
bad.” Lisa plucked at the fabric of the skirt, wrinkling her nose. “They’re just a little more
retro
than you’re used to, Hope.”

“There’s a reason this fashion trend died and hasn’t made a comeback.” I gave Lisa’s yellow confection the once over. The dress itself hung better on her than it did me, but then again everything hangs better on a tall, skinny succubus than it does on a shorter, curvier demon like me. But nothing took away from the margarine color. Her tanned, olive skin seemed ashy and washed out next to that much pastel sateen fabric.

“Yeah, the reason this fashion trend hasn’t come back is that it sucks.” Hope looked down at her mint green version and shook her head. The hat cast shadows over her face and made the lines around her eyes stand out.

“You look lovely.” Our bride-to-be popped one of the complimentary brownie bites they’d left as a snack into her mouth. “Very summery. You just radiate feelings of ‘Garden Romance by Twilight.’”

“What are you spouting now?” Hope asked, hands on her hips. She hadn’t been part of the conversation in mine and Lisa’s apartment last week about the themes Mom and the wedding planner had worked through before settling on Garden Romance by Twilight. All of the wedding planning they were doing made me want to gouge my eyes out and swear off marriage forever, but the whole garden idea was by far the best idea for a theme they had. For $100,000, Antje wasn’t exactly a risk taker in her planning abilities.

“That’s your mother and father’s nuptial theme.” Antje held her hands in front of her, palms up, before she flourished them dramatically. “We’re going for a story line of Everlasting Love inside a romantic twilight garden and you three will be our fairies of matrimonial bliss in a fairytale entitled Love in the Garden.”

“Mom, have you ran this whole thing by Dad?” I looked at my sister, then my soon-to-be sister-in-law. “He’s not really a garden person.”

“We’ll provide him with antihistamines.” Antje gave me a tight smile.

“I don’t think that’s going to help,” I said.

Lisa’s shoulders were trembling, and Hope was looking at the ceiling, probably so she didn’t lose it. All it would take is one spark, and we’d all be in hysterics.

“I’m sure he’ll be fine.” Antje looked at the three of like she was the Mother Superior of an order of wedding planning nuns and we were her unruly novices. “Now if you could let the shop attendants look over your dresses and determine what alterations need to be made instead of taking up mine and the bride’s valuable planning time…”

“Dad really sort of has this thing about gardens.” I tried to make her see reason without actually making her see
the reason
it would be such a bad idea. I really didn’t want to think about how Mom would react to bringing up memories of Dad’s former consort and their relationship. “So you might want to change the theme.”

“The theme stands,” Antje said. “Now moving on to the dresses.”

“You need a new storyline,” I said. “First of all, this one sucks.”

“I think you’ll find—” Antje pushed up from her chair and stalked toward me.

“I think
you’ll
find that it might be better to allow my sister and I to choose our own dresses, and you can tailor
your
storyline to fit.” I let my horns curl upward. My eyes flashed red and Antje’s widened in shock. “Since this storyline is a bad idea to begin with. My father has already had one wedding in a garden. Maybe you’ve heard of it? Eden? Demoness named Lilith? Their pet snake was present. They served apples.”

“I—” Antje backed away slowly and swallowed. “I think perhaps you’ll be better served by a wedding planner of a different caliber, Ms. Bettincourt. No worries of course, our firm will reimburse all of your fees. In fact, I’ll just go ahead and write you a personal check right now.”

“But Antje.” My mother looked at the wedding planner, her eyes pleading. “What will I do without you? You are the glue that holds this event together. Without you I have nowhere to even begin.”

“Try Wenslow & Wapperly, they take on all the alternative wedding planning in Pittsburgh.” Antje reached into her red leather purse—rather cute for a Chloe, actually, and completely unexpected given Antje’s personality—and tossed a brown wallet at my mother. “Here, take it. No hard feelings. Just, I’m going to go. Now. If you don’t mind.”

She turned on her high-heeled boot and tried to scurry out of the room, catching her foot on the carpeted runner on the entryway stairs, and stumbled. She bounced against the glass door and didn’t even stop.

“Well.” Mom sighed. “That wasn’t what I had hoped would come of today’s shopping trip. Really, Faith, what were you thinking?”

I tugged at the ribbons holding on my overly large plantation style sun hat and threw the monstrosity down into the chair Antje had been sitting in. “I think I’m tired, and stressed out, and I have way too much going on. And most important, I think these dresses suck like a hardcore vampire on a three day hunger strike and offered a sacrificial virgin.”

“I think they’re absolutely lovely.” My mother tried to make her tone pleasant but it was easy to see she was pissed off. Then again, so was I. It had been three weeks of nonstop wedding talk, wedding planning, wedding strategizing, and I for one was more than a little tired. “But if you’re going to make a scene like you used to do when you were two then I guess I’ll just have to handle all the details on my own time. I’m not going to make you stay here and behave civilly. Even though this is the most important day of my life.”

“That right there is why I never intend to get married.” I turned back to my dressing room. “Because it turns women into complete idiots.”

“Faith!” Mom sounded stunned.

“What?” I turned around to look at her. “It does. Just look at yourself. You have two grown daughters. You went to college as a single mom. None of us have spent more than a night in jail, and considering our special circumstances, that’s pretty amazing. After all of that, you want to look me in the eye and say that the most important day of your life involves a game of dress up and a catered dinner? Really?”

“If you’d ever gotten married you’d—”

“Mom!” Hope grabbed my shoulder and pushed me toward the dressing room while she turned to stare down the pain of our combined existence.

“But I’m just trying to—“

“Go finish up with the bridal shop people.” Hope growled as I closed the door between us and tried not to let my mother get the better of me. Leaning back against the mirror, I took a deep breath and beat my head against the glass, trying to keep myself distracted by the dull pain so that I wouldn’t cry.

“I was only explaining that if Faith—”

“Mom!” Hope yelled. “Go deal with your shit. Now.”

“Faith?” Lisa asked a second later. “Are you okay in there?”

“Yeah.” I sniffled and tried to keep myself from losing it at the thought of the wedding I had missed. I tried not to dwell on it, but remembering my own dress, and the groom who was supposed to have been waiting for me that day, made that tiny spot just below my heart burn like an imp was trying to roast my internal organs for dinner.

“It’s Mom.” Hope pounded her fist against the door once. “Don’t let her get to you.”

“I won’t.” I swallowed and stepped away from the mirror. I reached behind me and started tugging at the dress’s zipper.

“Let’s just get changed and get out of here,” Hope suggested. “I’m feeling the urge to go mess with someone’s head.”

“Can you still do that?” Lisa asked, her voice further away than before. “I mean now that, well
you know
.”

“First rule of demonhood, DeMarcos,” my sister retorted. “The power just amplifies the natural talent. Not vice versa. Even now I’m still the most evil bitch on the block. Given my lack of powers I’ve just had to become more creative about it.”

I chuckled and shook my head as I heaped the dress in the corner of the dressing room and grabbed my own clothes. Leave it to Hope to be a glass is half full kind of girl. At least when it came to doing evil.

“Ma’am,” a perky voice said from the other side of the door. “Are you sure that you and your bridesmaids are finished? They’ve barely had time to try their dresses on. Don’t you want to have some last minute alterations done?”

“The dresses each girl had were perfect. They fit wonderfully. Everything is perfect. If you could just arrange for everything to be sent to La Pomponee Spa by three p.m. on Saturday then we’ll be set. Is that going to be an issue?” Mom’s voice was muffled and I heard her gulp. “Oh, and do you mind if I take another plate of these brownie bites to go? They are absolutely delicious.”

“Of course not, ma’am.” The young woman sounded confused. I slipped my shoes on and I came out of the dressing room to see her looking at Mom, obviously perplexed at her sudden decision to bail on her girly day of wedding delight. The girl smoothed her long auburn ponytail as she looked first at the clipboard in her hand and then back at Mom. “There’s some paperwork we’ll need you to fill out, and we’ll make all the arrangements.”

“I’ll be back to do the paperwork.” Mom patted the girl on the hand. “My younger daughter is…”

“Hypoglycemic,” Hope said, stepping out of her dressing room and putting herself between Mom and the perky attendant. “And she hasn’t eaten yet. Very bad situation. She could go into a coma and die right here in your store. Think about the news coverage. Not to mention ruining our parents’ wedding.”

“Oh.” The girl’s eyes widened. “That does sound serious. You know what? Why don’t I just go ahead and fill out all the paperwork for you? We’ve got your information from the wedding dress papers and I can just copy all the information for your bridesmaids over. I’ll call you when it’s done.”

“Perfect.” Hope leaned forward and pretended to peer at the girl’s name tag. “Tiffany. You’re just an absolute peach.”