Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

“Kill me now,” I muttered softly.

“Could be arranged, Assbutt,” Pam whispered back.

I grinned at her. She grinned back. This wasn’t the time to screw around. A crucial meeting was taking place—a meeting I would have happily skipped, but no such luck.

The Grand Ballroom of the Cressida House was stunning. Dark, heavy woods gave it a masculine feel, but the crystal chandeliers and exquisite floral arrangements in stunningly etched glass bowls kept it from being too manly. The sweeping staircase in the foyer was breathtaking. Of course, none of us breathed, but that was beside the point. All the handmade rugs in the place had cost more than my college education times a hundred. The thick brocade curtains draped over fifteen-foot-high windows resembled waterfalls of molten gold. Of course, their majesty was nothing compared to the original Rembrandts, Picassos, Degas and Monets that graced the walls. The entire compound, while tasteful, was beyond grand. When I’d first moved in, I had been afraid to touch anything. It had quickly become my home.

Currently, my home was under a passive-aggressive and potentially bloody attack by some very well-dressed people. I was going to have to salt and sage the damn place after our visitors left.

The twenty male and female Vampyres who sat at the long and ornate meeting table were not stunning. Well, on the outside they were… On the inside, not so much. The egos of individuals older than dirt were large. I rolled my eyes as an idiot named Charlton went on and on about letting undercover Vamps enter the Olympics. His theory was for the undead to hold world records in every sport imaginable. In his own tiny and, in my opinion, feeble mind, he believed the popularity of those athletes would give them the inside track into politics. He surmised that if we, as a people, could get Vampyres into positions of power throughout the world, then the Vamps could eventually take their rightful place as rulers and gods over the human population.

The man was a broken record. At the last bi-yearly meeting with those who oversaw the specific sections of North America, Charlton had suggested having Vamps win Oscars in each and every category, leading to political office followed by world domination… It was all I could do not to electrocute the power-hungry asshole where he sat. Like I said… tiny, feeble mind. His suggestions were absurdly ridiculous and had been shot down multiple times. We lived in secrecy. Period. Charlton was shit out of luck with each one of his new and stupidly-hatched plans for world domination. When my guests were gone, I would order extra bleach for Charlton’s chair, and even then, I wasn’t sure it would remove the stain of his existence.

“So, Assbutt,” Pam whispered under her breath as she pushed a pad of paper and a pen over to me. “You wanna play tic-tac-toe?”

I bit down so hard on my lips I was sure my fangs had punctured them. It wasn’t the most inappropriate thing my Guardian Angel had ever said, considering the woman had a mouth like a sailor, but the timing was diabolical and pure Pam.

“Cakehole. Shut it,” I muttered, trying not to smile. It was a difficult task. Even though the meeting left little for me to smile about, having Pam for a visit made my non-beating heart happy. She’d been the profane miracle who’d helped me navigate the world of the undead in the beginning. She was the only highlight of this painfully dull and mandatory meeting.

“Now, Asscrack,” she said so softly I had to lean in closer. “You’d best watch that mouth, or I’m gonna put a shoe in it.”

I glanced down at the table and swallowed my giggle with effort. Pam was a foul-mouthed Angel mated to Ethan’s father, the King of the Vampyres. She had come to the meeting as a proxy for the King since he was busy in the European Dominion. It had been a year since I’d seen her, and I’d missed her desperately. “I’d like to see you try to put a shoe in it,” I said, egging the nutty woman on.

Pam grinned. “Don’t push me, dead girl.”

Technically, I was dead. If someone had told me all those years ago that getting hypnotized to quit smoking would kill me and I would gain a smack-talking Guardian Angel, I would have laughed in their face.

The laugh had been on me.

But suffice it to say, through the shitshow that had become my life, I’d ended both my viciously evil mother and my even more hideously dangerous father. I’d battled Trolls, Wraiths, Demons and even off-the-rails Vamps. I’d been busy. I’d gained a few siblings I didn’t know I had along the way, mated and married the love of my undead life, and had my miracle baby—who was no longer a baby.

“What size is your foot?” I asked Pam quietly.

“Why?”

“Just answer the question,” I shot back.

“Same size as yours, Asswhomp,” she replied.

“You wearing Prada or Jimmy Choo?” I inquired, keeping my voice at a volume that was difficult to hear.

“Prada, Asslicker.”

I glanced over at her and winked. “Then make sure you use both shoes because once they’re in my mouth, they’re mine, jackhole.”

Pam shook her gorgeous head and chuckled.

There were some angry curses in the room as the arguments around the table got even more intense. Then I heard my husband’s voice raise. Well, shit. Fun time was over.

“Charlton,” Ethan said, running his hands through his hair. “I’d suggest you let that fever dream go. World domination isn’t happening. Ever.”

Charlton snarled and wrapped his black velvet cape tighter around his body. The sudden, angry movement nearly toppled his top hat from his head. The Vamp looked like a cartoon. Josephine, the major ass licker of the group, patted his back and tsked at Ethan. She was an icy blonde convinced every man alive and dead wanted her. They didn’t. I’d been shocked when she’d shown up with hickeys all over her neck a week ago but hadn’t commented. She was a two-thousand-year-old grown-up. Hell, all twenty of the Vamps here, aside from Ethan and me, were well into their thousands. What Josephine wanted to do and display was her own business. However, I was dying—pun intended—to point out that Charlton looked like the Snidely Whiplash of Vamps, all he needed was a thin handlebar mustache to complete the cartoon villain look, but Ethan had so generously taught me that opinions were like assholes—everyone had them, but not everyone wanted to see them. He’d wisely suggested that if I wanted to show my opinion, aka my asshole, to make it worth it.

Pissing off a dummy like Charlton wasn’t worth it. It would be fun in the moment but not smart in the long game. As idiotic as he was, the Vamp was powerful, just like every other Vampyre at the meeting. While Ethan ran the entire North American Dominion, he had representatives, so to speak, who dealt with the day-to-day in different areas of the territory. I would have chosen other people than those gathered here, but they’d held the positions long before I was undead.

The love of my life was far more diplomatic than I was. I was ready to electrocute old Charlton and zap Josephine bald, but Ethan, who held the title of Prince of the American Dominion by heredity, had the final say on all undead matters. I, as his mate, did not. However, I was the Chosen One. The Vamp who had been foretold since the beginning of time. In our sexist society, the fact that the Chosen One had turned out to be a woman had gone over like a pizza and beer party for people who can only drink blood.

Stephano, a thin, red-headed Vamp with bright purple eyes who I usually liked, slammed his hands down on the table and glared at Ethan. “My Liege, you’re making us nonessential and weak,” he hissed. “Vampyres with no real power. We should be running the world, not hiding in the shadows. You’re being shortsighted.”

“And how exactly would that work, Stephano? Taking over the world?” Ethan’s voice was flat and cold. It made the hair stand up on the back of my neck. It was all kinds of badass and all kinds of sexy. It could be said that I needed my head examined. Whatever. My guy wasn’t finished talking. “The population of North America is 381,048,005. In our Dominion alone, the humans have 1.29 million active-duty troops and 767, 238 in National Guard and Reserve troops. The Vampyres in the entire world number around fifty thousand… not the best odds for a move that could obliterate us. And let’s talk about the rest of the human population while we’re at it.” The entire room grew uncomfortable. Vamps despised being called out. Ethan didn’t give a shit and didn’t suffer fools. “The human population of Europe is estimated to be about 745,083,824. Asia, 4,814,972,563. And let’s not overlook that China alone has an estimated 2.5 million in active military.” He paused and scanned the room. The haughty bunch were slightly less haughty. “So, explain to me again how you think that could work.”

“Your boy’s a badass,” Pam whispered with a nod of approval. “Just like his daddy.”

I agreed.

Stephano didn’t. “While Charlton is obviously losing his mind, he’s not wrong about us running the show. Humans are weak and malleable. His methods are pathetic, but then again… so is Charlton.”

Charlton let out a scream that made me slap my hands over my ears. Josephine tried to calm the idiot again, but he just flashed some fang and slapped her away. What I didn’t expect was for him to lunge at Stephano. While the meetings often devolved into violence, this one was wild. In less than thirty seconds, body parts were flying. It wasn’t until Charlton was missing his left leg and right arm and Stephano was missing both legs and his left eye that Ethan put an end to it. Slashing his hands through the air, he electrocuted the living hell out of both of them. With a quick nod to me, I finished the job by magically hog-tying both of the dolts in silver chain. For good measure, I wiggled my fingers and hung them from the massive crystal chandelier above our heads. It wouldn’t be good form to dismiss them from the meeting. I did my very best to make sure they were still present while being thoroughly humiliated. Good times.

Ethan smiled at the shocked crew. The smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Is there anything else anyone would like to bring up on this lovely afternoon?”

No one said a damned word.

“In that case,” Ethan said. “I shall see everyone at the soiree this evening. You’re all dismissed.”

The Grand Ballroom had been converted from a meeting space into a party space. The waitstaff carried flavored bottled blood, courtesy of my buddy Vinnie, in crystal goblets. The tables were covered in crisp white linens and decorated with silver vase centerpieces containing an abundance of blood-red roses. A classical quartet played in the background. Sometimes music felt like the translation of my deepest thoughts. Tonight, the light and airy sound of the violins calmed my antsy soul.

There was no actual food for the guests since Vampyres didn’t eat, except for Pam. She was an Angel, and she could eat. I’d made sure she had her favorite dinner cooked to perfection. I was insanely jealous as I watched her devour a perfectly done medium rare steak and pommes frites. That was the one thing that really chapped my ass about being dead. I’d give my left boob, which was the slightly bigger one, to have the ability to enjoy chips and hot salsa just one more time. The salsa and chips flavored blood that Vinnie invented for me, was the closest I would get.

Everyone was dressed to the nines, myself included. I’d pulled out all the stops and wore an Oscar de la Renta crystal-embroidered tulle gown and crystal-encrusted Jimmy Choo slingbacks. I felt like a princess. Ethan was dashingly handsome in an Armani tux, and Pam worked it in head-to-toe Chanel.

She was also ready to gossip. Pam was the tea party aficionado at all gatherings. She lived to serve and spill everyone else’s tea.

After the week I’d had, I was all in.

“That one right there is a spineless waste of tissue,” Pam announced, pointing at Charlton as she sipped champagne.

I smacked Pam’s arm. My buddy was loud. While I didn’t disagree with her assessment of Charlton, we didn’t need any more bloodshed. The Vamp had grown back his missing appendages in the few short hours since the meeting had ended. Stephano had as well, but he wore an eye patch. I wasn’t sure if it was for show or necessity.

Thankfully, this was the final night we would have to deal with our noxious guests, who would all be leaving in the morning.

“Just keep your voice down,” I warned her as I considered licking one of her fries. That would end with me curled up in a ball on the floor for days. I’d experienced that pain in a moment of weakness and wasn’t ready to live it again any time soon.

“That one over there,” she said, pouring herself more champagne.

“Which one?” I asked.

There were twenty Vamps besides Ethan and me at the soiree. Ten men and ten women. It was abundantly clear that most of the women liked me less than the men did… and the men didn’t like me all that much. The feeling was mutual. They were all dressed impeccably and on their best behavior. No one wanted to leave Kentucky with the Prince of the North American Dominion pissed at them.

“That one,” she replied. “I think his name is Dick or possibly Pecker.”

I groaned. “It’s Peter.”

“That’s what I said,” she shot right back with a naughty grin.

I giggled. “Actually, his name might be Petro. I can never remember.”

“Peter, Pecker, Dick or Petro,” she said, shoving a few fries into her mouth. “Isn’t that the bloodsucker who went at you about having to pay taxes, Assburger?”

“Yep.” I didn’t like the guy. He was one of many who were wildly put out and very vocal that I’d made the Vamps start paying their fair share.

Pam grunted with disgust and a mouthful of steak. “I wouldn’t piss up his ass if his colon was on fire.”

“Nice,” I said, almost choking on the strawberry-flavored blood I was sipping.

“Most of these fuckers are entitled trash bags,” she pointed out.

As if on cue, Peter-Petro-Pecker-Dick and his man-eating buddy, Josephine, approached our table.

“What are they doing walkin’ over here?” Pam asked. “You’re as popular as a rug burn.”

“Thanks,” I told her. “My rep is solid.”

“Darlings!” Peter, or whatever his name was, gushed. “Aren’t we lovely this evening!”

“Well, I am,” Pam said with a wide smile.

The expression on his face was confused. He wasn’t sure if he’d just been insulted.

He had been.

“Where did you get your dress?” Josephine demanded, eyeing it with jealously.

“Target,” I replied.

Pam cackled.

“Pardon me?” Josephine snapped.

“Not today,” I told her with a smile that infuriated the woman. It was fun to mess with her. She’d messed with me for years. A little payback banter was harmless.

Bowing low, Peter-Pecker-Petro kept running his trap. “Queen Paloma, I am honored to be in your presence. I’m so sorry the King is indisposed and couldn’t join us. Please send my regards.” He turned to me and tried to hide the sour expression on his face. He failed. “And, of course, Princess Astrid, always lovely to be in your company.”

I eyed him silently for just a beat too long. The dummy got flustered. “You can call me Chosen One.” If he wanted to play, I would play to win. It was getting old having to put up with the disrespect.

His brows shot up like Josephine’s, but he recovered quickly. “But of course, Chosen One. Enjoy your evening.”

“Will do, Pecker!” Pam called out as he and Josephine hurried away.

“Dude,” I said, laughing.

“I call ‘em like I see ‘em.”

Leaning over, I put my head on her shoulder. The amount of comfort I felt in her presence was beautiful. She was more like a mother to me than my own mother. “Can you stay for a while?”

“No, baby,” she said, cupping my cheek. “I have to leave later this evening.”

I wanted to cry, but since Vamps cried tears of blood, I sucked it up. I loved my gown far too much to ruin it. Blood was fucking difficult to get out of clothes. “I have an idea.”

“We pants everyone at the party?” she asked with a silly grin.

“Umm… no.”

“We spike the blood with laxatives?”

“Gross. No. And that wouldn’t even work since the undead have no bodily functions,” I pointed out.

Pam shrugged. “It might make the suckers pop like tics.”

I wasn’t sure what it said about my character, but I considered her suggestion for a hot sec. “Mmkay, no. I was thinking more like we go up to my suite and do a little online shopping. My treat.”

She raised a brow. “Target or Neimans?”

“Both.” I gave her a sly grin. “And if you’re really nice to me, I’ll let you use my Costco card.”

“Bulk goods?” Pam stood up and grabbed my hand. “Now you’re talking my language.”

As we left the ballroom, Vamps on either side of us bowed in deference. It was all for show. As we approached the door, Pam stopped and scanned the room.

Turning to me, she said, “A piece of advice, Assbag. Always be willing to burn a bridge when you’re standing on it, but make sure the time is right.”

I took in what she’d said but drew a blank at its meaning. “Am I supposed to understand that?” I asked her, knowing I wouldn’t get clarification. Immortals were as cryptic as they came.

My Guardian Angel smiled and patted my head. “Not yet, but you will.”

I decided I’d dissect her statement at another time. Right now, I wanted to shop.

And shop we did.