Fashionably Dead Down Under (29 page)

“Why the Sword? Why don’t you just kill her
with magic or your hands?” Amanda moaned with despair.

“Nice of you to notice. I wanted to show all
the Demons in Hell how magnificent I was and thought it would be a
fun touch.”

Deranged didn’t even begin to describe her .
. .

“Demons aren’t allowed to kill,” I reminded
her.

“You bought that bullshit?” She cackled and
my anger rose. “Of course we can kill. True Immortals are allowed
to kill. Did Daddy leave that out of your lessons? Satan has blood
on his hands,” she snapped. “Why do you think he’s in Hell?”

That was a surprise, but her logic was
faulty. “You’re not a True Immortal.”

“Not yet, but there are three more unknowns
and I plan to be one of them.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s not how it works,
cousin, but good luck with that. Now, I’m going to ask nicely,
mostly because I like my dress and getting into it with you might
fuck it up . . . drop the Sword and let Amanda go.”

“Who do you think you are?” she screamed.
“You are nothing. A Vampyre hybrid—a wannabe Demon. I am Wrath and
I can destroy you.”

“Blah blah blah,” I muttered. Her eyes
widened in shock and I bit back my inappropriate laughter.

“What did you say?” she ground out between
clenched teeth.

“I said blah. Blah. Blah.” I smiled and
watched her unravel.

“You,” she hissed and dropped Amanda to the
floor. Turning quickly she shot a spell at her. Amanda froze in a
grimace of pain so awful, I felt myself viscerally react. I didn’t
like her, but she was pregnant and for the most part innocent.
Being a bitch was not a crime to die for. This was not gonna happen
on my clock. She and her unborn child didn’t deserve death at
Wrath’s hand.

“You are scum,” she spat at me. “You come
from scum.” Her hair whipped with wild abandon around her face and
the tattoos raced even faster on her skin. The effect was dizzying.
“Your mother was a whore. A greedy whore who traded her soul for
power. That certainly ended up working out well for her, didn’t it?
She’s looking a little worse for wear down there in the Basement. I
do find it sweet that you still want her love.” Her laugh made my
teeth grind. My fangs descended and I knew my eyes glowed green
with rage.

An acid-like burning started low in my gut
and raced through my veins like fire. I sucked in a painful breath
and finally accepted the darkness I’d avoided. It was liberating
and frightening. I had no time to wonder if I was making a
fundamental change in my chemistry. Honestly, it no longer
mattered. I was what I was.

I eyed the lunatic Sword brandishing woman in
front of me with rage. Wrath had been correct about my mother, but
she was also deadly wrong. Yes, my mother’s choices had been
motivated by greed, but she’d been a mere child when my father got
to her. Her free will had been destroyed by methodical abuse over
lifetimes.

My body jerked forward as my Vampyre tried to
reject what was happening to me, but I pushed her down. My hatred
was consuming me and I let it.

“And your father,” she hissed. “He was an
imbecile. A stupid, stupid nothing. What could we possibly expect
from you? You come from shit.”

The blood roaring in my ears blocked all
sound. Her lips moved, but I no longer had any desire to hear what
she said.

It wasn’t slow and it wasn’t gentle. I called
for the darkness and it came. I had control. I briefly closed my
eyes and let the magic consume me. It was no longer just gloves. It
was me—all of me. My skin was covered in a fine black glitter. I
sparkled and vibrated with power from head to toe. Wrath’s eyes
rounded in fear and she took a step back. She was no longer the
big, strong, evil bad guy . . . I was.

“What are you?” She pointed the Sword at me
and took yet another step back.

“I’m the nothing that’s going to take your
Demon ass out.”

Her scream was reminiscent of a battle cry
and she came at me with a vengeance. It was too quick to call a
spell and my body went into action like it had been trained to do.
With Vampyre speed and Demon aggression, I back flipped out of her
line of fire. As she turned, I cartwheeled and caught her by the
neck in a scissor hold and knocked her to the ground. Her shock at
my skill was all the time I needed. Her body hit the floor with a
sickening thud and I rolled away as she shot a blast of lava hot
voodoo at me.

She was back up and she was pissed, but I was
done. Totally done. No more roughhousing. I had a baby to think
about. I chanted as her eyes grew wide again. I pointed at her and
she roared before my power even touched her. As if in slow motion,
I watched a shower of black and crystal white magic flow into her.
She dropped the Sword and fell to the ground. Her body convulsed
and fluid began to gush from her nose and mouth. She was dying and
I watched her dispassionately. I was happy.

Glancing up, I locked eyes with a horrified
Amanda and I was jerked back into me. The real me. What the hell
was I doing? I pulled back on the magic and Wrath’s breathing
resumed—erratically, but it resumed. The relief that I hadn’t
killed her was staggering. Would I have done it if I hadn’t made
contact with Amanda? Did it matter? I had made contact with Amanda
and I stopped. Everything happens for a reason. Amanda was here to
stop me and I was here to save her.

“Kill me,” Wrath choked out. “Finish it.”

“No,” I said as I picked up the Sword.

“I will have nothing—no respect. They will
laugh at me. I will have nothing.” She sobbed at my feet and I gave
her a smile that came nowhere near reaching my eyes.

“We can start a club. The Nothing Club. I’ll
be the president and you can be the treasurer. It will be fun.” I
raised my hands in the air and knocked down the wall dividing the
room. Demons raced forward and threw what I assumed were magic
blocking chains and ropes on Wrath. Satan went to Amanda and held
her lovingly in his arms. I couldn’t make out what he whispered to
her, but she gave him a weak smile.

“Cole, take Amanda to my suites and have the
women attend to her,” he barked.

“Yes, my liege.” Cole picked up a damaged but
alive Amanda and took her away.

“Wait,” she said as they passed me. “I don’t
know what you are . . . but thank you.”

I nodded and felt strong arms embrace me from
behind. “I could kill you,” he whispered.

“Yep,” I said as I leaned back into him. “I
figured. Am I still all black and sparkly?”

“You are.”

“Does that bother you?” I asked. My stomach
knotted as I waited for his response.

“I actually think it’s kind of hot,” he
whispered in my ear. Little chills ran down my spine and tears of
relief pooled in my eyes.

Satan paced the floor in front of the
disgraced Wrath and the crowd held its breath. The other Sins stood
off to the side and watched with morbid excitement. All of them had
enjoyed the show except Dixie. She stood away from them and
trembled with fury.

“Things like this make me wish I’d had a
vasectomy,” Satan bellowed. “This is embarrassing and
unacceptable.” He turned to me and his gaze narrowed. “Why did you
stop? Why didn’t you kill her?” he demanded. An anguished cry
ripped from Wrath’s throat, but I had no sympathy left for her. She
already received my mercy and I wasn’t about to kowtow to the
Devil. I was pissed at all of them.

“She didn’t deserve it. She didn’t kill
anyone. And I’m not the judge of those who should die.” I picked up
the Sword and handed it to him. “Here’s your damn Sword. I want to
go home.”

He turned so quickly I wasn’t sure I was
seeing things correctly. He touched blade to Wrath’s skin and slit
a small wound. The gasps and cries from the Sins made my blood
chill. Why would he do that?

“It’s a fake,” he said and dropped it to the
ground.

It took a minute for me to find my voice.
“Did you know that?” I yelled. “Or was that a test?”

He smiled his beautiful smile and shrugged.
Was he for freakin’ real
?

“We have a deal. That sword was a fake. You
will leave when your job has been completed.”

We were stuck. No one from the dinner party
was leaving the Dark Palace until after God’s visit. Most of the
Demons had no clue why we were quarantined, but I knew. The
Sword—the stupid Sword of Death. Satan was sure it was in the
palace and he was taking no chances. The majority of Demons still
believed the Sword to be a myth. As they grumbled and made their
way unwillingly to their guestrooms they made that fact abundantly
clear.

“I can sense it’s here,” Satan said as he
paced the destroyed dining room and assessed the damage.

“Can you sense that I’m totally over this?” I
muttered and pressed my fingers to the bridge of my nose only to
realize my sparkly skin had reverted back to normal pale Vampyre
chic.

My uncle threw back his head and laughed.
“Thank you. I needed that.”

“I wasn’t exactly joking,” I huffed.

He bent down and picked up a shard of glass
that was at one point an exquisite crystal vase. He expelled a sigh
and shook his head. “I’ve spoiled them rotten,” he mumbled. “It’s
time for me to retire for the evening. I’m sure you’ll find your
accommodations satisfactory.”

“Why me?”

“Pardon?”

“Why me? Why not have Cole or the Guards find
the Sword?”

He played with the fragment of crystal in his
hand. It caught the light from a chandelier that had miraculously
weathered the storm and cast brilliant dots of color on the wall.
“Because you’re blood. I don’t trust anyone but blood at this
point. Besides, most of them don’t believe the Sword exists.”

“Does it?” I asked.

“Does it what?”

“Does the Sword really exist?”

He took my face in his hands and I leaned in,
mesmerized by him. Ethan stiffened beside me but stayed quiet.
“Indeed it does and if it’s not found . . . ”

“I know,” I said.

His hand dropped down to my stomach and he
gently placed it on my slightly rounded belly. “If the Sword is not
found it will put the life of this child in peril.”

“That sounds like a threat,” Ethan said
softly with an edge that made me uneasy. Neither one of us stood a
chance against the Devil—at least I didn’t think we did.

“Not a threat. It simply is. The child you
carry is special.”

“And by that you would mean?” I asked.

“Exactly what I said.”

Son of a bitch, my child was special enough
with his Vampyre-Demon heritage. He did not need any more
special.

His hands left my body and I felt strangely
bereft—sad. He was a link to my father no matter how I felt about
my parentage. I wanted him to want me like a daughter. Wait. WTF? I
wanted the Devil to be my daddy? Heaven and Hell help me . . . I
needed some therapy.

My uncle considered me for a moment and I
wondered if he knew what I’d been thinking. “I find it interesting
you didn’t kill her when you have the power to do so.”

“A killing machine with compassion is always
such a big hit at parties,” I quipped. I didn’t want him to know
that I might have destroyed her if it hadn’t been for Puffy Lips. I
didn’t want to deal with that fact about myself yet.

“Ah yes, compassion . . . that pesky little
habit.” He smiled and then turned to go.

“Will what she did affect her claim to the
throne?” I asked

He paused and turned back. “No. Her behavior
tonight will have no bearing on whether or not she succeeds
me.”

“Will having a son affect it?”

“Possibly.” He nodded. “But probably not. In
the end–and mind you, the end is many thousands of years away—it
will not be up to me who shall succeed me.”

“Who will choose?” He was a ball of cryptic
and I expected no answer.

“You, Astrid. You will choose.”

With that, he disappeared in a cloud of black
glitter and smoke. I fell back into Ethan’s arms and sucked in a
huge breath.

“I didn’t want to know that,” I whispered and
bent over at the waist so I didn’t hyperventilate. “I’m going to
stop asking questions.”

“Quite honestly,” Ethan replied, as shocked
as I was. “I think that’s a fine idea.”

***

I was right back where I started when I
arrived in Hell. The same room with the same predictably cheesy
black silk sheets—only this time I knew exactly where I was, the
walls were silent and I was with the man I loved.

“Ethan I . . . ”

“Astrid, stop. The answer is I don’t know.
The only good thing to come out of that conversation is the very
likely fact that you will be around thousands of years from now.
Everything else was alarming to put it mildly.”

“I don’t want that job,” I whispered as I
tried to pull the thigh high boots off my tired legs.

“Let me help,” he said and unzipped my
dress.

“What about my boots?” I whined as he slipped
my dress over my head and tossed it on the floor.

“You’re going to leave those on.”

“I am?”

“You are.”

Tilting my head to the side and batting my
lashes, I feigned a huge yawn. “It will be awfully uncomfortable
sleeping in stiletto boots.”

“You won’t be sleeping,” he said and removed
his coat and dress shirt. Ignoring me, he stripped off the rest of
his clothing. My mouth went dry and my lady parts began to sing.
The hard planes and edges of his body made me dizzy. A crooked half
grin pulled at his lips. My breath caught in my throat and I
grabbed the bedpost for balance. I smiled and began to back away
from him. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Angel. A game you won’t
win.”

“Who says I want to win?” I continued to move
farther away and he continued to stalk me. I was in danger of my
knees buckling from sheer excitement and the look in his eyes. His
erection lay flat on his stomach and his body was a perfect male
sculpture come to life. He was the predator and I was his prey. A
shimmer of panic and lust settled in my loins and I wet my lips
with my tongue. His eyes darted to the movement and I realized the
predator could be distracted . . .