Fashionably Dead Down Under (2 page)

I’d lost enough. I would not lose the man who
was my world and I flat out refused lose my baby. Unease skittered
up my spine like little mice and I shivered involuntarily as Steven
Perry began to belt out
Wheel in the Sky
. OMG.

Could the talking wall keep me from leaving?
Time to find out.

On the far left side of the room was a bay
window. I wondered how high up I was and if I could jump. What was
I thinking? I could fly, for fuck’s sake. I grimaced and stood. I
just needed to find a way out of the garish bedroom and make my way
to a portal that would take me back to Earth.

Of course since I had no idea what that
portal might look like or where to find one, that might prove to be
a clusterfuck in the making. Awesome. I needed to figure out where
I was.

Walking hurt so I decided to fly to the
window and check out the landscape. After two pathetic attempts
that resulted in my ass hitting the floor—hard, I realized my
powers weren’t the same in Hell as they were on Earth. Not.
Fucking. Good.

“Looks like you lost some power, my dear,”
the wall said.

“Ya think?” I snapped. Why was I even talking
to the wall? It was a wall. I would ignore it and if it got mad—so
be it.

My eyesight, hearing and sense of smell were
still bionic, but my ability to cloak myself was gone along with my
ability to fly. I needed to get the hell out of the room. Staying
low and away from the walls just in case they had hands too, I
slipped out of the bedroom and made my way down a massive hall.
Ironically—or maybe not—Steven Perry belted out
Separate
Ways
. Who in the hell knew Journey had so many hits?

Something was off besides the fact that the
walls talked. Why was I able to breath and why in the hell did Hell
smell so good? Was I even a Vampyre anymore? If descending to
I-have-a-shit-ton-of-money-and-no-taste-and-Journey-is-the-best-band-ever-land
meant that I had turned into a full Demon, someone was going to
pay.

Not wanting to show fear, but filled with
dread that made my heart beat like the drum section of a percussion
happy high school band, I stood in the center of the dimly lit
hallway. If the Demons had wanted me dead they would have already
killed me. I was creeped out that I’d been talking to a wall and
had seen no one. It felt like I’d plopped down in the middle of a
game with no rules . . .

This world was filled with dark magic and
Steven Perry . . . and strangely, I found that combination
appealing. Very appealing. It was unlike the foul magic of my
mother or my father and his minions. This was smarter and a whole
hell of a lot more dangerous. Thankfully my body was becoming my
own again. The pain was receding although I was still without my
undead powers . . .

Voices. I heard voices . . . and they didn’t
belong to Steven Perry or anyone from Journey as far as I could
tell. A man and a girl.

Oh, I wanted to go home. Where were my ruby
slippers or at the very least a fairy godmother? This was bad . . .
very, very bad.

Moving quietly toward the sound with as much
outward calm as I could muster my stomach roiled. Why, why, why did
shit like this seem to happen to me on a daily basis? My karma
couldn’t be that bad . . . Suck it up and deal with it. I’d just
defeated massive evil. I killed my vicious father and my bat-shit
crazy mother in the space of twenty minutes. Not something I was
proud of or wanted to brag about, but it was me or them and clearly
I had more to live for . . . I was a kick butt half-Vampyre
half-Demon who was pregnant. I was a virtual impossibility. I could
do this. I’d talk my way out and go home. Or I’d whack a bunch more
Demons and go home. Done. No fucking problem.

However, when I reached the source of the
voices my courage disappeared. The sheer amount of magic in the
room was like nothing I’d ever felt. The darkness wound around me
like a perfectly cut cashmere wrap and the magnetic pull was
intoxicating. There was no turning back. It felt right to be where
I was in this very moment. I was positive this was where I would
get some answers. Luckily I slipped into the room unnoticed. In the
spirit of self-preservation and utter terror, I quickly hid behind
a massive black brocade curtain as Steven Perry appropriately
busted into
Who’s Crying Now
.

***

“Dixie, this behavior is unacceptable!” the
man bellowed.

He was magnificent and frightening. His magic
was stronger than any I’d ever witnessed. I slipped farther into
the shadows so I wouldn’t be seen. Fuckity fuck fuck. Every
instinct in my body screamed at me to run away, but that was
impossible . . . they would see me. This was a mistake—possibly a
deadly one. But I’d been drawn here by an unmistakable pull. As
much as I wanted to disappear, I wanted to stay even more.

The beautiful man stood at least six feet six
inches tall and had long raven black hair—identical to the girl
named Dixie he was displeased with. She was stunning, yet her
demeanor was meek. Their eyes were golden like mine, although his
turned a ruby red as his anger mounted. Was the girl related to the
man? Who in the hell were they?

Their skin color differed. His was more of a
pale mocha and hers was a peaches and cream. They were both long
and lanky and reeked of magic. The girl, Dixie, appeared to be
about nineteen or twenty and the man? Who knew . . .

“I’m sorry,” she muttered, staring at her
fingernails. She picked nervously at the chipped black polish.

“Would you like to explain these grades?” The
air crackled with his anger and energy. He threw the paper to the
ground at her feet.

Grades? WTF? This was Hell . . . people got
report cards in Hell?

“Um . . . I studied?” she whispered, ducking
her head to avoid a blow.

“No child of mine receives straight As.” His
voice was soft and menacing.

I was so fucking confused I almost stepped
out from my hiding place, but sanity prevailed and I stayed
put.

“I said I was sorry, Dad. I’ll try harder to
fail next time.”

One question answered . . .

“Where did I go wrong?” he lamented. I
watched him pace. His presence filled the room completely, leaving
little space for anyone or anything else. His very expensive black
leather pants and black silk shirt matched his hair perfectly. It
was clear the girl loved him and was upset with his
displeasure.

He threw his hands up in disgust, “I’ve given
you everything, and this is how you repay me?”

“Didn’t realize there was a price,” she
muttered quietly.

“Everything has a price,” he hissed.

Damn, he had really good hearing.

Dixie shrunk down low and waited. I held my
breath, wishing I hadn’t chosen this particular room to
explore.

“You will drop the goody-goody act. You will
be rude, promiscuous and scandalous. You will not be compassionate
unless I am concerned and I expect you to flunk out of the Demon
College just like all of your sisters did. Do you understand me?”
he demanded.

“I’m really sorry, Dad.” She sounded like a
broken record—this was clearly a familiar conversation for
them.

“I am Satan,” he bellowed and the room
vibrated. “I have a reputation to uphold. You are a Demon Princess,
you have a Porsche, your own bungalow in the most exclusive zip
code in Hell and certainly more money than anyone your age should
have access to and yet you throw all this in my face? Why Dixie,
why?” He wearily dropped down on the couch next to the girl and she
put her arms around him.

“I love you,” she whispered.

A ghost of a smile touched his lips. “And I
you.” He wrapped his arms around her and looked into her eyes. “Is
it true that you donated one million dollars of my money to feed
hungry humans on Earth?”

“Yes,” she said and buried her face against
his chest. “I did.”

He heaved an enormous sigh, “I have to punish
you, you know.”

“I know.”

He put his finger under her chin, forcing her
to meet his eyes. “If I don’t punish you, all hell will break loose
down here. No pun intended,” he grinned.

“Daddy, that pun was totally intended,” she
giggled.

“That it was.” He stood up and ran his big
hands through his hair and turned his mesmerizing gaze on her. “You
are so like your mother.”

“And that’s a bad thing?” she challenged.

“It’s an . . . interesting thing,” he
conceded. His voice was melodic and hypnotizing.

“Dad?”

“Yes, Dixie?”

“What’s my punishment?”

He gave her a terribly evil and intoxicating
smile. “I’ll have to think about it.” He turned and walked toward
my hiding spot. Shit. Why did I have to be so freakin’ tall? Please
walk by me. Please. He stopped a foot from where I hid. I held my
new found breath and prayed to everything and anything I could
think of . . . including him.

“Come out, Astrid. I’ve been expecting
you.”

Sweet baby Satan, this day couldn’t get any
worse. Actually, it probably could . . .

Shitfire, hell and damnation. This was bad.
Satan was expecting me? How was that even possible? And how did he
know I was hiding behind curtain number two? Although he was Satan
or Lucifer or Beelzebub or the Prince of Darkness or...

“I prefer Satan. Lucifer is fine on Tuesdays
and the Prince of Darkness will do in a pinch,” he said smoothly in
his dark, rich voice.

Son of a... I quickly slammed my brain doors
shut and hoped I still had at least that ability. Test it, my
filterless and quick to come up with horrific ideas brain told me.
Fine . . .
Satan is a douchebag who wears ladies underpants and
picks his nose
... Nothing. No reaction. Thank you Jesus and
Buddha and Moses and Judas and whoever else was kind enough to be
helping me out at the moment. Wait. I take back the Judas thing.
Don’t want to pray to a dude who gets people crucified. Dumb, dumb,
dumb. I idly wondered for a moment if Judas lived down here. Focus.
Satan was on the other side of the curtain I was hiding behind and
he’d requested the pleasure of my company. Fuck.

I was Southern and I had manners. If I could
teach art to genitalia obsessed seniors, I could converse with
Satan. Right? Right. If he was expecting me, he was probably aware
of my recent patricide and matricide . . . Would he be impressed or
pissed? After all, my father had been in charge of Hell. Wait. How
was my stanky father in charge down here if Satan existed? This
made no sense. Were the Vampyres wrong? Was my father a big fat
hairy liar? Who in the hell did I kill an hour ago? Was he even my
father?

“I’m waiting,” Satan informed me in a tone
that got my feet moving quickly.

“Hi,” I said as I burst from the curtains and
shoved my hand out to shake his, acting like it was the most
natural thing in the world to be eavesdropping on the King of
Debauchery’s conversation from behind black brocade. “I’m Astrid
and there was clearly some major fuc...mistake. I don’t live down
here and I’m not dead. Well, actually I am dead, but not dead-dead.
I’m undead and my undead, um . . . husband is going to be pissed.
I’m a newlywed of sorts in a Vampyre undead way and I need to go
home, your Honor of Darkness. Now.” I expelled a loud and long
breath as I hadn’t inhaled through my insane diatribe.

“Interesting,” he purred and watched me. He
hadn’t taken my hand and I let it drop limply to my side. “So
you’re the Chosen One.”

“Apparently,” I snapped, annoyed that he
didn’t have the decency to shake my hand. “And you’re the bad
guy.”

“Occasionally,” Satan laughed and all the air
left my lungs. God, he was beautiful . . . and scary.

“Cigarette?” he offered, holding a pack of my
favorite brand out to me.

I was soooo tempted. I could breathe for
God’s sake. Would one measly cigarette hurt me? Um, yes. Yes, it
would. In my struggle with temptation, I’d all but forgotten I was
pregnant. Would I have taken it if I didn’t have my little miracle
inside of me? I’d like to think no, but I wasn’t too sure. Hell was
going to be hell.

“No, I quit,” I said, looking away from my
former vice.

“Such a shame,” he replied, watching me
intently.

It was if he could read me without diving
into my mind. Shit. Time for a change of subject . . . “I thought
my dad was in charge down here.”

“You do realize
down
is a misnomer,”
he informed me. He was in my space and I itched to take a step
back, but knew in my gut if I moved away I would lose a few points
in whatever fucked up game we were playing.

“I’m not following,” I said politely, very
aware he avoided my statement.

“My dear beautiful creature,” Satan said,
moving even closer. “It’s a misconception is that Hell is below and
Heaven is above. What does that even mean? Nothing is up or down,
that’s just mundane human mythology. Most likely the poor mortal
fools made the mistake because Hell is occasionally called the
Underworld. So very literal, those humans . . . Hell and Heaven are
simply on different planes, accessible through portals. Earth was
modeled after a combination of the seasons, climates and terrains
of Heaven and Hell. We all share the same moon, sun and stars.”

“Interesting. So about my father . . . ” I
said, ungracefully changing the subject. Again. Although what he
said was fascinating and I did want to know more I was in a bit of
a time crunch. The faster I could get out of here the better. I was
certain Satan already knew if he was going to kill me, so I had
very little to lose. I wanted answers, not a history lesson.

“Yes,” he replied silkily. “Tragic
ending.”

“Who was he?” God, the Devil was more cryptic
than the Vamps. “I thought he was in charge down here.”

That stopped the Devil in his tracks. “Did he
tell you that?” he demanded in a voice that made my stomach drop to
my toes.