Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO

The next morning, I discovered a note written in blood attached to the makeup mirror in my office. Rather ominous for eight AM. So far, the day was shaping up to be a stressful one. It was the cherry on top of the shitshow sundae we’d been eating all week as hosts to a bunch of cranky, old-as-dirt, egomaniacal undead representatives. Pam had been the only bright light of the hot mess. I was glad the Vamps were gone. It had taken four hours with Pam while buying crap online that we didn’t need for me to calm down. Ethan was proud of me for not electrocuting anyone during the week, and I’d only set Josephine on fire once for insulting my shoes. My impulse control was improving. Everything had ended in somewhat of a stalemate—nothing new there. When one lived forever, time meant very little. The issues would be revisited in six months… I couldn’t wait.

What I needed was a break.

Sadly, it didn’t look like I was going to get one.

At noon, Satan, aka Uncle Fucker, was stopping by for a chat with Ethan and me. That was unsettling. I’d spent the last half hour hiding all the expensive electronics in both of our offices. The Devil had very sticky fingers and was fond of office supplies—mainly Ethan’s. A visit from Uncle Fucker was enough to deal with. A note penned in blood was the last thing I needed.

“Hells bells,” I muttered, rolling my eyes. “What does a girl have to do to catch a freaking break around here?”

Normally, a bloody note would terrify a human being. I wasn’t normal, and I was no longer human. Not to mention, it was ludicrous that I had a makeup mirror. Since I was dead, or rather, undead, I had no reflection. However, I’d been a human longer than I’d been a Vampyre, and some habits were hard to break.

Peeling the note off the mirror, I examined it. The script was illegible. The only word I could make out was my name, Astrid. The scent was bizarre, off-putting and unfamiliar. Being a Vamp, the smell of blood was unusually appealing. I couldn’t tell if I liked or despised this particular brand. Whatever. The bottom line was that the missive created with bodily fluids and quicker-picker-upper pissed me off. I didn’t need anything new to add to my bullshit and possibly life-ending to-do list.

Maybe the note was a joke.

Most likely, it was not.

Maybe it had been left by one of the asshole Vamps I’d pissed off during our bi-yearly and tremendously unpleasant get-together.

Highly unlikely. My office had been warded against their entrance. If they’d tried to snoop, they would have been fried to a crisp.

It wasn’t from Ethan, the love of my undead life. His handwriting was as gorgeous as he was. Plus, he was more into Mont Blanc pens and thick cream stationary than a ripped paper towel and blood. Ethan’s pens had been the first thing I’d hidden away in anticipation of my uncle’s visit. Satan pilfered the expensive pens like his existence depended on it. It didn’t matter that he could buy all of the Mont Blanc pens in the Universe. Nope, the Demon got off on stealing. I was sure the note wasn’t from Uncle Fucker either. He wouldn’t know what a paper towel was and would never write a note in blood. While the leader of Hell was the ultimate badass in battle, he was a weenie about a paper cut. Tiny amounts of blood made him queasy. He was absolutely fine with large amounts. That took Ethan and Satan off the suspect list—not that I’d ever suspect Ethan. My five-hundred-and-something-year-old hot hunk of man had far more class and imagination than to bleed on absorbable paper and stick it to my mirror.

My office was supposed to be my violence-free, safe space. I’d taken over the suite next to Ethan’s at the Cressida House so our workspaces would be connected by a door. It was very conducive to midmorning, midafternoon and late afternoon nookie, which we took advantage of often. While my mate’s office was sleek, leather, and masculine, mine was over-the-top girly, with overstuffed couches and loveseats done in pale peaches and creams with celery green accents. It calmed my soul and made my heart happy. Granted, my heart didn’t beat but it still felt joy.

Since Ethan was the Vampyre Prince of the North American Dominion, I was his de facto princess, and we got to make the rules. We used our office spaces on a daily basis. The prince was more beloved than I was due to my making the ridiculously rich Vamps pay taxes—an issue that had come up multiple times at the summit and had led to a little bloodshed. That wasn’t uncommon for Vampyre meetings. The undead enjoyed trying to whack each other. I was still kind of dumbstruck by the Charlton and Stephano beatdown. However, dismemberment aside, we lived in this world alongside the unsuspecting humans and had an obligation. The undead didn’t want to pay taxes. No one actually wanted to pay taxes. If they were going to inhabit this world, they were damned well going to make it a better place. The bloodsuckers had amassed absurd fortunes over the centuries they’d been alive, or more accurately, dead, and they had never paid a single cent towards society. I had changed the game.

Banging, mating and then marrying Ethan came with some clout. As Chosen One—not by any choice of mine—I came with some clout of my own. Accepting me was hard for them. Change was difficult for people older than time. The tax decree wasn’t popular, and neither was I. I didn’t care. Being hard to kill was a bonus. Vampyres were notorious for getting even.

Suffice it to say, the taxation went over like a lead balloon filled with shit. Whatever. It was the ethically right thing to do, and the love of my life agreed. I’d been a target for quite a while, but I was basically impossible to kill since I was a True Immortal.

There were thirteen True Immortals in total. I represented Compassion. My uncles, God and Satan, embodied Good and Evil, respectively. Mother Nature was Emotion, and Bill—Satan’s father, my grandfather and Mother Nature’s mate—was Wisdom. My Demon cousin Dixie manifested Balance, and her mate, Hayden, the Angel of Death, represented Death. The Angel of Light, Elijah, epitomized Life. And the woman he pined for, Lucy—the daughter of the original Eve—was Temptation. The Fates, including Satan’s mate Elle and her mother Sadie, personified Fate, and that left Samuel.

Our son was Utopia, the most powerful of all the True Immortals. He was a combination of all of our gifts. Samuel’s future terrified me. Keeping him safe as he matured into who he was to become was paramount to both Ethan and me. While I knew there would come a day when our child would have to spread his wings, I hoped it wasn’t anytime soon.

I wanted to toss the note in the trash but hesitated. Immortals were a vicious bunch, and if I was staring at a death threat, it was better to keep the evidence so I could handle it. Ethan was more of a by-the-book kind of guy, and I was more of a wing-it-by-the-seat-of-my-pants kind of gal. It worked for us and terrified everyone else.

“Who did I screw over in a past life that I have to deal with this crap?” I asked as I stared at the note and tried to decipher it. “My karma is sucking.”

“Well now, Tits LaGlobes,” Martha grunted as she entered my office without an invitation. “I’ve always heard that karma’s only a fuckin’ bitch if you are.”

I kind of regretted removing the ward. Martha needed to learn how to knock. Going up in flames might teach her a lesson. “And I’ve always heard that people without brains shouldn’t be able to speak,” I commented.

She cackled.

I sucked my bottom lip into my mouth to keep from smiling. If the dingbat got any encouragement, she’d never leave. That would end in electrocution. Hers. I eyed the hot mess standing before me. Her booty shorts were green. Her boob tube that barely held her sagging girls was covered in orange sequins. Her black socks and orthopedic sandals completed the eyesore of an ensemble. She looked like a profane Halloween pumpkin from the Basement of Hell.

“Why are you here?” I asked, taking a sip of hot salsa and chips flavored blood. What I really wanted were the fries Pam had wolfed down last night. That wasn’t going to happen. I was eternally pissed off that I couldn’t eat food, but the flavored blood was a nice consolation. “You should be in Hell watching over Uncle Fucker’s baby.”

“On vacation,” Martha informed me, sauntering into the room and making herself comfortable. She plopped down on my favorite chair. Her legs were splayed. If I wasn’t mistaken—and I wasn’t—the booty shorts were crotchless.

That wasn’t working for me. At all. I zapped the daylights out of her. She just laughed and smacked out the flames. However, she did close her legs. It was the small victories that kept me going.

“Where’s Jane?” I questioned warily.

Martha and Jane were normally connected at the bony hip. It seemed to be their mission in life… or death… to drive me crazy, and I only had myself to blame. In a rash moment of weakness, I’d had the two eighty-somethings turned when they lay dying at my feet a decade ago. While Vampyres, in general, were absurdly good-looking, Martha and Jane were not. They were sparsely haired, wrinkled nightmares. Having them turned had been a bad move that turned into a gift. They’d saved the life of my son, and for that, I’d forever be grateful. I’d protect the banes of my existence until the end of time and secretly loved them. However, I set them aflame often. They deserved it. It was a better option than decapitation. I was thoughtful like that.

“That old hooker is in the training facility gettin’ her smelly crack kicked by them hot asses, Augustus and Felix,” she informed me with a wink. “If you want my opinion…”

“I don’t,” I cut in quickly.

She ignored me. “I think that skanky tool is tryin’ to cop a feel of some thousand-year-old Vampyre warrior bahoookie.” Martha slapped her skinny, age-speckled thigh and roared with laughter.

“Oh my God,” I said with an eye roll. “The two of you dumbasses are mated to Lizard.”

Lizard was a Demon and a badass of the highest order. His sense of fashion was nonexistent. The man favored polyester tracksuits and berets. He carried a baseball bat and always had a huge wad of gum in his mouth. Lizard might be a walking fashion mistake with beady eyes and scaly skin, but I adored him and trusted him with my life. Of course, his taste in mates was gross, but love was very, very blind in his case.

“Ain’t no problemo, ShirtPotatoes Le Jigglejoggers,” Martha assured me. “Lizard don’t mind. As long as we stay loyal to his giant sexy salami, we can slap a little ass here and there.”

If I could have sighed, I would have expelled the mother of all sighs. Since I didn’t breathe, it wasn’t an option. Sadly, I was also incapable of throwing up, which was what I was inclined to do right now.

“You have five seconds to tell me why you’re in my office,” I told her. “After five seconds, you’ll be completely bald.”

“Fair nuff,” she said. “Somethin’ is kinda weird.”

Our entire existence was weird. I waited to hear what one of the weirdest of the bunch thought was weird .

“Now I know I ain’t the sharpest tool in the fuckin’ shed,” she began.

“True.”

“But why would you think that a thousand-year-old Vamp might wanna practice beatin’ up on someone as ugly as Jane?”

I didn’t like the direction the conversation was going. Men and women were equally matched in our world as far as fighting skills and power. However, Felix and Augustus were warriors who had been trapped in a coma for over a thousand years. They were ridiculously strong and leaned to the sexist ideology side.

The thought of Jane being harmed was unacceptable. She was a thorn in my rear end, but she was very dear to me. No one was going to hurt the profane asshole on my watch.

Felix and Augustus were a byproduct of a mission. We’d saved two hundred Vamps ten months ago with the help of my sister Juliet. The actual mission had been to get an antidote to save Ethan and a bunch of other Vampyres who’d been put into stasis by Energy Vamps. We’d gotten the antidote and gained some surprising extras. The Energy Vamps were now our accountants. Insane but accurate. They’d pledged their fealty to both Ethan and me and had turned out to be terrific—albeit strange—members of our secret world. The two hundred warriors we’d saved had been more of a problem. Today’s society was vastly different than the one they’d lived in and it had taken a lot of work to acclimate them. Most had followed their leader, Rhys, along with my sister Juliet, and were productive members of the undead society. However, Felix and Augustus were fucking idiots, which was why they were still living at the Cressida House compound.

“Define beating up on Jane,” I ground out through clenched teeth as my fingers began to spark and shimmering black glitter covered my arms.

Most people would make a quick exit when I began to glow, but Martha just scratched her mostly bald head and shrugged. “Don’t rightly fuckin’ know. Felix said Augustus got himself into a situation and needed to know how to fight one with a bosom.”

My hair was now blowing around my head, and my eyes had turned blood red, displaying my Demon side. When my eyes went Demon, I saw red. Literally. My beautiful office was now bathed in a red glow, and that was messing with my calming color scheme and my chi. Felix and Augustus were about to learn a lesson they would never forget. If they wanted to fight a woman, they were going to fight me.

And I never lost.