Fashionably Dead Down Under (28 page)

Lights. Camera. Action.

Thankfully I was seated next to Ethan. The
gorgeously laid out main table was for family and close friends.
Several other tables, equally as lovely, were specifically for the
Guards and their wives or significant others. The main table held
Satan at one end and Wrath at the other. I assumed if he took
Amanda as a mate that might be her spot. Amanda sat to the Devil’s
left and Cole to his right. Seated next to Amanda was Envy, then
Greed, Dante, and Gluttony. On our side after Cole was Sloth then
Ethan, myself, Dixie and Pride. That put me directly across from
the delightful Dante.
Nice
. One chair sat empty down at
Wrath’s end. I assumed that one would have belonged to Lust.

The room seated probably forty or so and was
now lit completely by candlelight. Janet turned out the electric
lights as we were seated and Satan clapped his hands twice. A rush
of magic that tickled my tummy blew through the room and hundreds
of candles illuminated. The crowd applauded enthusiastically. It
was beautiful. The crystal and heavy silver literally sparkled. The
sheer amount of firepower in the room was a tad nervewracking, but
the effect was stunning.

I tried to make eye contact with Amanda
several times, but she avoided me like the plague. I suppose the
whole lip popping incident had scarred her. Who knew?

“
Ethan, did you learn anything from
Cole
?” I asked silently as I passed the basket of rolls that
was making its way around the table. I wanted one badly, but knew
that gagging at a formal dinner party would be considered bad
form.

“
Not much, but he seems to have a healthy
obsession with Amanda
,” he replied.

“
Really? I thought he didn’t trust
her
.” I glanced down at Cole and Amanda, but they weren’t even
looking at each other.

“
I’m sure he doesn’t, but it might go a
bit deeper than that
.” He smiled and raised his glass.
“
Astrid, pay attention. There’s a toast
.”

“
Whoops
,” I raised my glass, then put
it to my lips. There was no way in hell I was going to drink
anything, but I wanted to fit in. Much to my great surprise it was
blood. WTF? I glanced up in surprise and caught Satan’s eye. He
winked and I laughed, almost spilling my treat.

The dinner, which I didn’t touch, smelled
heavenly. Wine and conversation flowed freely and the atmosphere
was light. However, as the meal wound down something changed. I
felt a chill. A dark magic unfurled and wafted through the room. My
hands felt clammy and my chest constricted painfully. What was it?
Who was it? The desire to get up and move was strong. The magic was
dissipated and not coming from any one direction. I glanced over at
Satan, who seemed oblivious. Running around the room might appear
odd, even for the
Vampyre
guest, so I stayed seated.

“
Do you feel that
?” I asked Ethan.

“
Feel what
?”

“
Dark icky Demon voodoo
.”

“
Did you say Demon doodoo
?”

“
Oh my God, no. Why would I say dark icky
Demon doodoo
?”

“
You tell me
.”

“
I said voodoo. Not doodoo
,” I snapped
so loudly, his hand went his forehead and he winced.

“
Sorry, I’ll keep my thought volume
lower
,” I muttered. “
But do you feel it
?”

“
No, I don’t
.” He closed his eyes and
focused. “
I feel nothing
.”

The pressure on my chest eased, but the eerie
presence remained. No one noticed, or if they did they showed no
sign. Unable to hone in, I figured I’d continue to play Sherlock
Holmes and delve back into the non-magic intel.

“Why does Wrath sit there?” I asked
Dixie.

“She will become the leader of Hell when
Daddy decides to retire or whatever,” she said quietly.

“What if Big Lips has a boy? Does that fuck
up the line?”

“As far as I know it would, but I don’t think
the baby is his. Amanda gets around—at least she did before she dug
her claws into Daddy.”

“Does Wrath think the baby is your
dad’s?”

“Nope, she’s positive that Amanda will be in
deep shit—her words, not mine—after she gives birth.”

I was so happy I wouldn’t be here for that
shit show.

“Who’s behind Wrath in line for the
throne?”

“Envy. then Greed, then Lust, then the
triplets, then me,” she said.

I stored the information away and eyed the
desserts that were coming out to the table. Shitshitshit. Black
raspberry chip ice cream? Was someone screwing with me? That was my
favorite and I almost threw a tantrum.

“You can do this,” Ethan said, holding me
back from the ice cream.

“I just want to sob,” I whispered. “What the
hell is wrong with me?”

“You’re having our baby and he apparently
wants ice cream.” He smiled and squeezed my hand.

“I guess so,” I pouted.

“I told you I’d give you what you want if you
give me what I want,” Dante hissed under his breath to Greed. He
clearly didn’t know about super duper immortal hearing skills.
Although no one else seemed to be listening.

“Dante,” she purred. “You get yours after I
get mine.”

Um, gross. I did not want to hear them
discuss the arrangements or, God forbid, details of their
rendezvous. Trying to tune them out, I refocused on the desserts I
couldn’t eat. Note to self . . . no more dinner parties while
pregnant.

“I just want it. Now,” he insisted. “If you
don’t give it to me my way then you’ll get nothing.”

Now, unfortunately, he had my full attention.
I was about to throw up in my mouth and I didn’t need the ice cream
to help me. I had no clue what she saw in him. He was a douche.

“You are more trouble than you’re worth,” she
snapped and turned to chat with her sister Envy, leaving the
asshole with no one. Gluttony had turned her back to him at the
beginning of the meal.

“So, Dante my man,” Satan bellowed. “Are you
here taking poker lessons or trying to find out if I’ve hidden some
levels from you?” The crowd tittered and Dante fumed.

“I’m still here trying to figure out how to
be a cheating, conniving, soulless bastard like you,” he shot back
and the room went silent.

After an uncomfortably long pause, the Devil
threw his head back and laughed. The other Demons followed suit
much to the great relief of Greed, who shot eye daggers at
Dante.

“Those are some rather harsh words for
someone trying to get into my daughter’s pants,” Satan added as the
laughter died down.

“Daddy,” Greed gasped.

“Yes, well . . . my apologies,” Dante
muttered insincerely. “Greed, a word?” he stood and pulled her
chair out for her. The crowd stood and began to mill about as after
dinner aperitifs were passed around.

“Something is off,” I muttered and realized I
was talking to myself.

Ethan had been drawn into an animated
conversation with the Devil and the Seven Deadly Sins were chatting
it up with Amanda the pregnant consort. No one back at home was
going to believe any of this. I had a difficult time absorbing it.
I watched as Dante roughly led Greed from the room and the voodoo
stopped. The dark magic left the room with them. Bingo. It could
not be this easy.

I quickly made my way out of the dining room.
I caught Dixie’s eye right as I reached the door. She arched an
eyebrow in question, but I simply smiled and waved.

The hallway was dark. Thank God for Vamp
vision.

I heard them from a distance and I made my
way toward the sound. The hallway was thickly carpeted and I was
able to move silently. Their voices were raised, but where was the
magic? It had disappeared. Crap. It sounded like they were fussing
at each other or someone was injured—it sound horrific. Would they
lead me to the Sword? Could I go home tonight? I was curious to
meet God, but I wanted to get out of Hell even worse. Could it
really be so simple?

No. Of course fucking not.

I picked up my pace and rounded the corner.
If Dante had hurt Greed he was toast. I liked her and I . . . Oh.
My. Hell. My first thought was that I would have to bleach my eyes
. . . Dante’s pants were at his ankles and Greed was on her knees
in front of him. The slurping and moaning set my gag reflex in
motion.

“Oh shit,” I gasped. Dante’s ass was nice,
but extremely white. The entire situation was mortifying and would
stay with me for centuries.

They turned and stared. Greed’s expression
was one of shock and Dante’s was pissed.

“I am so sorry,” I mumbled backing away.
Dante had slapped his hands over his eyes and swore in what sounded
like Italian. Greed pointed to Dante’s rather oversized manhood and
gave me the thumbs up. I weakly returned the gesture and turned to
go.

“Would you like to join us?” Greed called out
as I hauled ass back to the dining room.

“Um . . . no, I’m good,” I choked out. “But
thanks.”

“Maybe another time,” she yelled as I picked
up my pace to a sprint. I needed to go home. Immediately.

No Sword. No magic. Only eternal memories of
my cousin giving a douchewanker a blow job in Hell. And now I was
lost. How did I get lost? Granted, the Dark Palace was huge, but
this was fucking ridiculous. I hadn’t followed Greed and her boy
toy very far and I was sure I went back the same way. Maybe in my
haste to get away, I’d overshot the door.

A violent jolt of hazy black magic made me
freeze. It carried the same signature as the magic I’d felt at
dinner. It hadn’t left the room with Greed. It had stopped and made
me think it had been Greed. The owner of the magic had wanted me
gone. Shit. Something was going down in the dining room and I
couldn’t find it.

When conventional means fail use magic. A
shit ton of it. I lifted my hand and flicked my fingers and a
glittery breeze engulfed me. It was warm and familiar. A giggle
escaped my lips and I flicked my fingers three more time. Glitter
spun wildly around me. The temptation to bask in the beautiful
peach and rose colored magic was tempting, but I had places to be
and Demon ass to kick. I just didn’t know which Demon. No time like
the present to find out. With one more flick, I transported back to
the dining room.

Welcome to Hell.

The dining room looked like the aftermath of
a hurricane. Everything was still in motion so it was problematic
getting my bearings. Violent winds swept the room. Debris and
Demons were flying. Muffled screams and grunts assaulted my ears.
The dust and glitter made seeing almost impossible, but there was a
wall—a clear crystal wall. It stretched from one end of the room to
the other and literally oozed magic. Iridescent goop dripped down
the smooth facade, slightly blurring what lay beyond. The Guards
and guests were on the opposite side from where I stood. Small
fires from the candles burned and licked up the curtains and
smoldered in the carpets. The Demons clutched at the walls to keep
from being blown around and burned to death. The storm was far more
violent on their side. The only immortals left standing were Satan,
Ethan and Dixie. I tried to communicate with Ethan, but the wall
blocked my magic. Whoever erected this sucker had some major mojo
going on . . . The fury on the Devil’s face at being helpless was
like nothing I’d ever seen—beautiful, raw and horrifying.

What was happening? And why was I on the side
where nothing was exploding?

“I should have given you more credit,” a
disembodied female voice hissed. I shuddered involuntarily at the
malice in the voice. “I didn’t think you’d make it back for the
show.”

Wrath? I whirled around and backed away. She
was magnificent. Swirling gold and amber tattoos covered her pale
skin and morphed from shape to shape. Her blonde hair flew wildly
on her head and her gown billowed around her. She embodied her
name.

In one hand she held Amanda. The consort was
bloody and beaten and trembled with fear. In the other she held the
Sword. Fucking awesome.

“You do that, you’re gonna die,” I said
calmly, even though my insides roiled. She was strong and by the
looks of it, insane.

“My father will never kill me. And you
can’t.” She laughed manically and eased the Sword closer to
Amanda’s neck. “Only one prick—one touch of the blade and any
immortal dies,” she whispered as Amanda whimpered. “Just one and
the whore dies.”

Get her monologuing . . . bad guys love to
tell you how bad they are. A few minutes—even seconds would give me
time to think. Wrath had humongous balls to think she could get
away with this. Everybody who was anybody in Hell had front fucking
row seats. I refused to turn and look. One, I didn’t want to see
the worry on Ethan’s face and two, I wasn’t about to take my eyes
off Psycho Cousin. Unsure if she’d actually kill Amanda, I was
fully aware I could kill her even if she wasn’t. I fingered the
stone at my neck,
she was meant to rule
. . . I didn’t want
to use it and hoped she would make me.

“But the baby’s not his,” I pointed out
hoping she’d forgotten that possibility.

“Probably not,” she agreed and tightened her
grip on Amanda’s hair. “This is precautionary. A just in case.”

The tattoos shimmered as her crazy increased.
The glare off her skin intensified. I squinted and kept my eyes on
her face.

“So, how’s this gonna work?” I asked.

Wrath rolled her eyes and blew out an
exasperated breath. “As attractive as I find you, Astrid, your
stupidity is beginning to bore me. I am over a thousand years old,
and some little hussy will not blow out a boy and take my
birthright. It’s quite simple. She dies and her child dies with
her. Daddy won’t retire for hundreds of years and I’ll be forgiven
by then. Done. Get it?”